In the very coveted position of a second semester senior, I can confidently say that the college application season sucked. Like grade-A, do-not-talk-to-me-or-I’ll-rip-your-head-off, stress-pimple-inducing sucked. But, with the power of hindsight, I can also say that I’m grateful for it. Because if I’m going to toil over 17 different applications, I better get something in return — a reflection of myself.

Over a dozen of my colleges asked the same question: “Who are you?” And (amazingly) I had an answer. In every single one of those questions, I wrote about my identity — my gender, sexuality, race — but most importantly, I wrote about this column (gasp; namedropped!). And because I needed to essentially choose who I am — or who I wanted to portray to those college admission officers — I was forced to look critically at what I valued the most about myself, the things I deemed worthwhile; be it my sport, academic passions or, in this case, my column.

My column is one of the only things that is truly my own. I’m not dictated by some ground-breaking news, or the actions of the administration, but follow my own whims, write exactly what I want to write, exactly how I want to write it. I’m not ashamed to say it: I’m proud of this. And sure, being vulnerable is scary: My heart pounds and my hands sweat when the Editor-in-Chief suggests edits, or when I see my parents’ copy of The Talon flipped to the Opinions section. But that’s what makes this all the more powerful, all the more rewarding — because, by pushing through these fears, I finally found another chance at coming out to my parents on my own terms, made a space where I’m unapologetically myself, started difficult conversations with my teammates about transphobia.

So, dear reader, I hope you can start thinking about who you are too: the communities that make up your identities, the things you’re most proud of accomplishing, the passions you want to follow as you move through life. Take the time to explore what excites you and try reaching for your goals: Audition for Broken Box, sign up for that one club you’ve been eyeing for years, take the AP course you’re unsure about. Maybe the thing that really makes a difference won’t be writing a column for The Talon, like it was for me — but I have it on pretty good authority that it can change lives.

Curate, ut valeatis,
Iphis