Harmonizing through competitions

EMMA chuang staff writer

Singing with growing talent through the 2023 season, Diamond Bar High School’s choir department concluded the year on a high note, with all four teams placing competitively.

At the last competition at John Burroughs High School, the school’s Diamond Tones won third place, while the all-male group Radiant took home third place in advanced bass.

Solitaire earned second place in intermediate treble.

Marquis placed second for best choreography in the advanced mix tier one.

“The best choreography was definitely well-earned, because our choreographer worked so hard and pushed us to be where we are, and I’m really grateful for that,” senior Aeron McCoy said.

“I think it was the bonds that we shared and the passion that we had for the art that allowed us to win.”

Students awarded best performers at the last competition included junior Jimmy Chen in Diamond Tones, junior Jessie Li in Solitaire, senior Daniel Illingworth in Radiant, and senior Olivia James in Marquis. Senior Jolene Wu in Solitaire was awarded best soloist. Since the theme of Solitaire’s performance was K-pop, the singers in that number were required to learn Korean in order to sing the songs.

“At first the dancing was really challenging when we first learned it,” junior Violet Kieta said.

“But I think everyone was really up to the challenge, and we all were able to get it in the end.

Also learning to sing in Korean was really hard; only one person on the team was actually fluent.”

Moreover, another choir group, Marquis, competed in four competitions.

The first one in Esperanza, the second in Burbank, the third in Hart, and the last in John Burroughs High School.

Their theme was Ivy League Fever, and the show depicted a collection of students under the constant pressure of society to get into an Ivy League school.

The performance showcased the decisions of either aiming for prestigious universities or following their own path.

“The story kind of follows these five or six characters where they all go through their own personal exploration and self-growth,” McCoy said.

From endless practices to numerous show dates, each choir performance presented something unique and different.

Every choir group had a contrasting bond, forming relationships like no other.

“This year especially, it was so easy to form a connection with everyone.

The group this year was so tight knit, and I really felt a connection with everyone, and I think that’s pretty cool and pretty rare,” Kieta said.

“I think choir really helps me improve a lot with my dancing and singing.

I was really proud of my teammates when we got second place at the last competition.”

Moreover, the students both share the goal of improving their singing and projecting more with their performance.

“I would really like to keep improving and growing as a performer, creating new bonds with people and still sharing that passion with others that I have for choir or drama.

I want to continue to be a role model for the underclassmen, because the seniors did so much for me last year, and I really hope that I can do the same,” McCoy said.

MK PALARIS Former Editor-In-Chief

Ten whole Brahma Tech credits.

That’s all what the journalism prerequisite was to me in freshman year—I even wanted to drop out within the first week and swap my class with photography, because what kind of bloke wants to spend their high school years writing for a paper that, like, thirty students and some (cool) moms read?

But fate loves irony, because here I am three years later, penning my senior column as the former editor-in-chief, struggling (and failing) not to sound like a cynical misanthrope.

It’s funny how life works. I wasn’t the slightest interested in joining The Bull’s Eye most of my freshman year—until I intruded on some random deadline night session after school because my brother was still in 6A and I had nothing better to do.

I can’t give a concrete answer of why I became so drawn to the program, when I initially abhorred it.

Maybe it was my affinity for writing, or even a kick of excitement for my boring life (and yes, joining a school’s newspaper was unironically my highest option).

But as I reminisce my younger self staring with wide eyes at my upperclassmen completely off task while completing layout, I chalk it up to one thing: the desire to be a part of a group.

Cycling through three different advisers in my three years of being in The Bull’s Eye was no easy feat— especially when the switch to a new one came to my utter surprise after I was announced editor-in-chief.

A much more difficult concept to grasp was the drastic changes to the Diamond Bar High School journalism course as a whole; the amalgamation of J1/J2 classes, obscurity of print paper and lack of any concrete authority.

The safety net of a familiar presence was torn from me and I was back to square one.

This is usually the part of a senior column where the writer reaches their peak of melancholy, only to do a complete 180 and list improvements and adaptations they’ve made to overcome those barriers.

Call it a crossover of Freytag’s story pyramid and the journalistic inverted pyramid, but replace the newsworthy aspect with autobiographical obligation.

But I don’t have a tidy list of accomplishments or adaptations I can share. Though that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Quite disappointing, but it’s not the end of the world.

I dealt with the cards I was handed. What I did, I did well.

Some decisions I made were good, some bad.

But despite everything, despite all my doubt in sticking to journalism, I can confidently say that I don’t regret my time here, even when it seemed like the universe was throwing everything it’s got onto me.

To me, The Bull’s Eye was worth a whole lot more than ten credits.

Now, my column is running a little short so I need to blabble about random nothings to avoid empty space. So I just want to say: Shout out to Mr. List for somehow convincing me to join The Bull’s Eye and to Ms. Chen as well for being a real one.

Ryan Kung

Former Staff Writer

Momma, we made it! I am about to step onto campus for the last time and head to a new environment where it is just me.

Although it feels euphoric to bask in the glory of graduating, there wasn’t always a time when I felt this milestone would ever come in my life.

My high school experience was unique, to say the least, as we migrated online during my sophomore year. Having slacked off for most of the year, I took five AP courses on top of grinding extracurriculars throughout my junior year. As a person, this simply cannot be healthy as all I wanted to do was the opposite of study.

If you are reading this for any academic or extracurricular advice, I advise you not to listen to me. But just remember this: Whatever happens will always happen, and you can do nothing about it.

What I can do is make you hopeful for the bright future ahead of you. Being in the position that I am in today, hopeful for the future, I can emphasize that struggling with AP courses and stressing about school will always come to an end, and beating yourself up over these minuscule details will never be the best choice.

Throughout the course of my high school career, I’ve discovered many things that would help me through tough times and relieve my stress, even empowering me to continue pushing. However, what I found most interesting is the idea of creating something original to you. There is no direct form of creating, whether it be playing music, drawing, or writing. It all comes down to a product that is authentic to you.

Being somebody that isn’t academically driven like the rest of DBHS, seeking the academic validation that is drilled into our minds as children, seeing a finished product, created a source of motivation for myself and even excited me for the future.

You see, there are endless possibilities to what our minds can form and create. Following constant inspiration can also help motivate you to innovate something different.

It may seem like set equations and courses constrict us, but in reality, that is just the school system. So next time you are doubting your academic abilities or feeling down about your success, remember that nothing is stopping you from creating.

Fuel your brain fluids with things you are interested in. Taking courses that are difficult and extracurriculars that help you get into a top school isn’t what is going to make you a successful and fulfilled person. Instead, take on inspirations that help you grow, ideas that allow the gears in your head to turn.

When I step onto the podium when my name is called, it will be my last time being a child. Growing into an adult, I am ecstatic to pursue my dreams, even if it means leaving all that I have ever known behind.

This attitude has gotten me through high school, and even though I was a lazy student, my mind did not stop running. Don’t restrict yourself like the classes we take do. Set your mind free and follow wherever it takes you.

Iknow what you’re thinking and I wholeheartedly agree: I didn’t think it was possible. But with a 3.87 GPA and several new mental illnesses, I’m finally walking free from this nicely decorated rye field.

I want to talk about my favorite bildungsroman (it’s a fancy word for coming-of-age story)—J.D. Salinger’s “Catcher In The Rye”— yeah, that book you read if you decided to do English III Honors instead of AP Lang.

For those who haven’t read this novel, our main character Holden Caufield has this recurring dream of blindfolded children stumbling through a rye field only to fall off a cliff edge unexpectedly; our title drop happens when Holden talks about becoming the one who saves these helpless children when they fall, hence he becomes the “catcher in the rye”.

To save you a whole SparksNote analysis, the entire dream is an extended metaphor of losing childhood innocence, or as I interpret it: the very sudden transition from childhood to adulthood, like falling off the edge of a cliff blindfolded.

What makes “Catcher In The Rye” my favorite bildungsroman is that Holden fails; he utterly, entirely and irrevocably fails to reach his dream. His utopian vision has never and will never come true.

Despite this, he becomes the victor in the story—not through luck, deus ex machinas or coincidences; Holden wins because he realizes that moving on from one’s childhood is an inevitable fate, but not an inherently malicious one.

Now I want to bring up a theory of grief by author Lois Tonkin.

Tonkin wrote that it is not our emotions of grief and loss that get smaller as time continues, but that our experiences of life allow us to grow around our grievances, like how over time kudzu will overgrow a wall.

I think one feeling all of us seniors shared this year was grief: we grieved over friends we no longer talk to, we grieved over the loss of half of our high school years staring at a rectangular screen in our rooms and we grieved over what our futures could look like and our past regrets.

But despite that, we’re here, aren’t we? Half the battle is showing up after all, and much like how Holden had to grieve and ultimately move forward from the losses in his life, I believe that there’s a chance for all of us to grow around our strife, like the beautiful flowers that grow from the hard labor of gardeners.

I’ve grieved a lot these past four years over what seemed like life or death, but the thought that there’s more to life out there—outside this “bubble” we’ve created for ourselves—helps me move forward.

Loss is difficult, but difficulties are relative. So to anyone who has read this so far: do not let your grief stop you from meeting new people and experiencing new things because you will never know the person you become.

And now I leave you with a quote from Azar Nafisi that embodies my feelings wholeheartedly: “You get a strange feeling when you’re about to leave a place. Like you’ll not only miss the people you love, but you’ll miss the person you are now at this time and this place because you’ll never be that way again.”

Ialways wondered what it’d be like to write one of these columns. Most people tend to write about their sentimental moments on the paper, but as someone who hasn’t attended a deadline night in over a year, there isn’t much to say. To set the record straight, I enjoyed my time on the paper and felt like I got the opportunity to talk to people who I didn’t know existed. But that aside, this year has been one of the most tumultuous and confusing years of them all.

For context, the current graduating seniors have had the very, very pleasant time of switching journalism advisors year-to-year, from Douglas List (2021) to Connie Chen (2022) and now current advisor Michael Miller (2023).

During List’s time, we were given one of the best advisors possible in the form of a strict, grumpy former Los Angeles Times editor. Once his time was up, under the guidance of Ms. Chen (who had prior experience as an advisor), we were led by seniors who had the pleasure of working under List’s system for years; those who had the experience and knowledge to run the paper similar to pre-COVID times. When they graduated, we lost a majority of that and I think we’re starting to see the effects of List’s departure on the Journalism program this year. From what I remember, Journalism I was austere and unforgiving. Current events quizzes were miserable, List regularly massacred our essays and work was all-round held to a higher standard. The lack of anything in Journalism I last year and this year have resulted in an overall weaker publication; you can tell by just reading some of the articles we publish now.

Underclassmen actually had to compete to get their works published and weren’t just gifted those opportunities. It’s especially irresponsible to increase the workload of Journalism II students by having them edit those articles; it shouldn’t be expected of editors to care about those articles when they already have enough on their plate.

I don’t feel that I’ve earned the right to complain too much, especially given my relatively lax role as a staff writer, so I’d like to thank all of my editors for putting up with my articles.

Pivoting to something positive, I think my favorite time in the Journalism program was either my time in J1 or when I was writing lengthy reviews for shows and movies (much to the dismay of my editors). I remember multiple times sitting with Reyna and trying to cut word count for my reviews but somehow seeing the counter go up. And of those I regularly talked to in J1, there was camaraderie among us in the sense that we were all terrible at journalism. We’d chat during lectures, beg Charles to help on current events, freak out last minute about unwritten articles and all of that. Despite it ending early, it was fun in hindsight.

As for the future, I don’t think I’ll be doing too much journalism, it’s just not for me; it’s not entirely out who knows. List occasionally sends me email reminders of new movie reviews he writes, so I’ll be following in his footsteps and shoot back some of my own.

A final thank you to the staff over the years, List, Chen, Miller and those I’ve interviewed (especially the sports coaches that actually reply). Writing for The Bull’s Eye was truly a pleasure.

I thought I was finally done.

I had dreamt of this moment for years—by second semester senior year, college acceptances meant that I would be completely done with school.

Yet, as I found myself staring at assignments I didn’t need to do, studying for tests I could easily fail, I couldn’t have been more wrong.

My entire time in high school has been a blur—a mix of late night studying and long assignments.

However, despite constantly telling myself that it would all be for good and that the work would eventually pay off, I was still never quite satisfied.

Throughout the last four years, I’ve realized that my relationship with academics has been characterized as nothing short of obsession.

The pandemic made it worse, forcing me to stay home and constantly immerse myself into work.

I was perpetually unsatisfied and constantly found myself asking the same question: “What was the point of it all?”

Of course, there were some events that drew me away from this cycle: football games, the occasional rallies, and often hangouts with friends.

But, even though I have felt genuine happiness in these moments, it always seemed as if the time I spent there had to be compensated by studying or doing homework—I never felt fulfilled with simply “having fun.”

And it’s not just a problem with me.

Growing up in a competitive environment has reinforced this notion that being “successful” means obtaining high SAT scores, doing an unhealthy amount of extracurriculars, and getting into a Top 20 college. But it isn’t.

I’ve realized now that being successful means being happy, and—if that’s true—I’ve failed.

So, what still drives me to move forward? The fear of failure? Academic validation? Peer pressure? Maybe all three of them.

Yet, as I chase these endless goals, I never find myself fulfilled at the work that I do.

If I could turn back time, I would tell myself not to care about academics so much.

I would tell myself to go out more and appreciate high school for what it is. But that’s not how it works. I can only move on and hopefully convince myself that it was all for good.

To all the underclassmen and incoming seniors: just have fun. Time really does fly, and it’s the memories and friends you make throughout high school that really matter.

Go out with friends, attend homecoming, and find something you’re genuinely interested in— it’s all worth it at the end.