Savannah Advincula

I can’t believe this is my final graphic :’)

There is a story behind every story.

When readers pick up a magazine, scroll through a website or skim past a headline on social media, they often only see the finished product. They see the polished layout, the finalized article or the perfectly cropped photo. What they do not see are the conversations behind it, the late nights, the revisions, the disagreements, the laughter and the people who made it all happen.

In a world that increasingly values convenience and efficiency, I think we sometimes forget the importance of being genuine and artistic. Print media, journalism and student publications still matter because they preserve humanity in a way that fast content often cannot. There is intention behind every page. There is care behind every design choice. There are people behind every headline.

Our magazine was first launched during the spring term of the 2024-2025 school year, and I was lucky enough to witness its growth from beginning to end. For the most part, I worked on layout. I spent hours arranging pages, adjusting spacing, moving headlines by centimeters and making sure every issue looked like something our staff could proudly hold in their hands. It was tedious at times, but it was meaningful. Watching a blank document slowly become a finished magazine never stopped feeling rewarding.

What mattered even more than the magazine itself were the connections created inside the newsroom.

If it were not for journalism, I do not think I would have become friends with Malina Velasquez. She would often talk to me about the music she was reviewing. I always liked music, but Malina was the expert. I still remember finding out about 2hollis through her 2025 album review and hearing her passionately explain his artistry. Moments like that reminded me that journalism is not just about reporting facts. It is about sharing interests, perspectives and pieces of ourselves with other people.

Another person journalism brought back into my life was Amari Boyd. Before this year, we used to hang out during breakfast sometimes. We were friendly, though we never talked much. I always thought she was cool, especially when she dressed as Raven for Halloween in 2024. At the time, I mostly saw her as my friend’s friend.

After our circle experienced a falling out for reasons I would rather keep private, we drifted apart. But when spring 2026 started and Boyd joined the staff, we reconnected in a way I never expected. We talked through unresolved feelings and became closer than ever. If she had never joined this class, I honestly do not think we would even be speaking today.

I will admit that part of me wishes I could have been closer to everyone on staff. Sometimes that realization hurts. However, as Editor-in-chief (EIC), I learned that leadership also means setting boundaries and maintaining professionalism, especially in a space where so many personalities work together closely. Even then, some people still found ways to get past the exterior I tried to maintain.

One of those people was my managing editor, Avian Yun. I always saw him as a younger brother because we shared similar humor and interests. Over time, I watched him grow from a quiet reporter into a confident editor, and I could not be more proud of the person he became.

I trusted his potential from the moment he first joined staff, which is why I tried my best to support him however I could. For our magazine’s final issue, I let him take the lead, and seeing the result made me incredibly proud. I am excited for everyone to finally see his work when the issue comes out. I know he will do well as the next EIC.

If someone had asked me a few years ago whether I saw myself leading a newsroom, I probably would have laughed and said no. I never imagined myself taking on a major leadership role. Yet somehow, here I am at the end of my term, reflecting on everything this position gave me.

When I moved to America, I promised myself I would become ambitious. I wanted to take every opportunity possible, even if I was scared. Journalism became one of those opportunities.

Over the years, I watched myself grow from someone uncertain about surviving in a completely new environment into someone who knows she will be okay no matter what happens. Journalism taught me that setbacks are inevitable, but it also taught me that I can always recover from them. More importantly, it taught me that there will always be people willing to support me along the way.

Despite everything our staff accomplishes, I still think our class often goes unrecognized. I hope that changes in the future because journalism matters deeply to our campus community. Student publications give people a platform. We cover protests so students can understand the messages behind them. We write reviews that allow staff members to share their interests. We report on events and games so students can stay connected to what happens on campus.

This class offers far more than people realize, and it continues evolving alongside the student body with every new group of leaders that enters the newsroom.

Long after the pages are printed and the headlines are forgotten, I think what will stay with me most are the people behind them.

Gallery • 6 Photos

Amari Boyd

Senior Spring Staff 2026 <3

Shout-out to Jacob Franco for listening to my rants when I get stressed out <3, Damian Munoz for gossiping with me even when we’re busy, Wilbur Balanay for speaking in Tagalog with me inside the newsroom, Shayla Rivers for sticking with us even when times were hard, Ariella Bin for the tasty cookies, Gabriel Senishen for idk, Enoch Ngala for liking BL, Veronica Bran-Ramirez for being patient with me (even when I give unclear instructions), Isaac Arce-Gomez for being the chillest guy in the room… except when Enoch didn’t give his charger back, Mr. Valdez for continuing to grow as an advisor, and to the Junior League of San Joaquin County for helping us publish the first few issues of The Crown.