An Editor’s Departure

I figured it was my time eventually; to write one of the numerous farewell letters giving some sort of life advice, maybe something sappy, even a tad artificial even though well intentioned. I scrolled through them late into the night looking for the deeper meanings of things, seeing what I have to live up to as I write this deep into the hours of the night.

I’ve learned that many people are afraid to show who they are in high school. I was the same for so incredibly long that I lost track of who I was for a while. You might have memories of me making you chuckle, reading one of the things I’ve written or listened to my speeches. Or even have experienced my angsty middle school days of me being silent and scary. Man; I don’t miss that.

The year has started winding down, the sun is shining outside, and more importantly, I’ll have to finally step into the real world in June when I walk across that stage and flash a smile to the audience. I’m sure you’ve heard the spiel of growing up, and moving on or whatever. If you want that, by all means, tune out and listen to a droning graduation speech, but if you want genuine conceptualization of someone who’s living through high school as you guys are, then feel free to listen.

I’ve been quiet recently, both here on the Johnny Green and in the classes, you and I have had together. I’ve been lost in thought like I used to be, and I came to the conclusion that things are bitter sweet.

That’s why I’ve decided to be as real as possible with you guys, it’s the least I owe.

For those of you that watched the musical, about two weeks before production I was watching the show to be ready to manage the sound for it. It was, in typical Addams Family fashion, a goofy but dark experience, I expected a couple chuckles and some smiles, but I got something more out of it. I started panning through the script before the next number in the second act came on. Both Anthony DeFazio and Samantha Ball took their places on stage and began the song “Happy/Sad”. I’ve tried watching it again on YouTube from the Broadway show, but it’s not the same, it doesn’t do the scene the same justice as seeing it live.

There’s just a couple small sections that I wanted to share with you:

“I’m feeling happy, I’m feeling sad.

A little childish, a little Dad.

I think of all the days you’ve known.

All the ways you’ve grown.

See you on your own, and then

I’m feeling happy and sad again.

—

I think I’m rested, but then I’m tired.

Today requested tomorrow fired.

—

Life is full of contradictions, every inch a mile.

And the moment we start weeping,

that’s when we should smile.

—

In every Heaven, you’ll find some Hell.

And there’s a welcome in each farewell.

—

So let’s be happy

Forever happy

Completely happy

And a tiny bit

Sad.”

The truth is, I’m a scared kid. I was always afraid of failure in my future, not being good enough for anything, and not being the man I wanted to be. Underneath sarcastic exterior, I’m honestly afraid of the future and leaving you guys even though I’m afraid to admit it. Even though we might never talk, if we’ve fought or argued or just glanced at one-another out of the corner of our eyes, everything anyone does shape other people.

I’ve said a million times that I can’t wait to get out of here– but I’m not. I’m happy-and-sad; happy-and-sad. I’ll have to leave behind all the people and memories I’ve made here. But I’m happy… I’m happy because my life doesn’t end at just High school, the credits won’t a role, the curtains won’t drop, and the thunderous applause doesn’t start. I’m happy I had the chance to work and be with hundreds of different people and see how everyone evolves, but I’m sad to see them leave.

That’s the thing right? It’s certainly strange. How could it be that there can be things that are so conflicting yet couple so nicely when put together?

It’s okay to be sad, and it’s okay to be happy. There’s always that incredibly overused quote, “Don’t be sad because it’s over, smile because it happened.”– Screw it, I’ll do you one better. When I feel sad I stop after a while and realize that being sad is kinda beautiful in a way. It makes you feel tangible, and that you don’t feel that disconnect. I’ve got to be happy because I feel those emotions and it makes me feel human. It’s amazing that something had to leave such an impact on you that you’re upset over it that you can give an emotional response.

I can’t be certain what the future might hold, or what the future of you and I have together is. But I will be certain of this: In June, when I walk across the stage, I won’t just give a smile for being happy, I’ll give one for being sad too.

Life really is full of contradictions.

Sincerely,

Nathan Currier