This year has been flying by; as you read this, it’s already February and I am well into my last semester of high school. I feel as though the end is simultaneously coming too soon, yet too slowly. I want to finish, yet I don’t want adult responsibilities.

    As cliche as it sounds, I can still remember my first days as a lowly freshman. I was absolutely terrified of everyone around me, whether it was warranted or not. And honestly, I’m still scared (albeit for a different reason). As I entered my senior year I was anxious of what awaited me, not just in anticipation of the last moments of my childhood, but of what could possibly come after. I was so concerned with making the “right” decisions — with ensuring that I wouldn’t have any regrets or missed opportunities.

    After two years in journalism, first as a reporter and then copy editor, I took on the role of editor-in-chief at the start of my third and final year. I have always tried to live up to those who came before me; with all the past editors (my older sister included) in mind, I knew there was a high standard to meet. The last thing I wanted was to go down as that editor. I have spent this year trying to contribute to this legacy — to raise the expectations.

    I have never been one to stand out (and I’m quite comfortable with that fact). But I have always tried to ensure that my presence is felt: I want to have an impact. Entering this year, I knew I wanted to make the most of my time left. I wanted each page published to be something that my staff and I could be proud of. Towards this end, I can’t pretend I magically knew what to do, or say that it happened without a struggle. It came with a lot of stress, and at best I can hope to say that it didn’t show on my face too much.

    Through the issues, we came to find our voice — one that is unique to this year and to this staff. To you we may just be faceless names on a page, but I assure you, my staff has put their time and effort into bringing you this issue. We have chosen to feature people from Mililani with a wide range of interests and experiences. While I’m not so optimistic as to believe everyone who receives this paper will read it cover to cover, I do hope that within you will find at least one story that interests you — that you may learn more about someone (maybe your friend, classmate, teacher, neighbor) and of the remarkable things they have done. I truly hope you enjoy the second community issue of Mililani Times.