2017
2 | seniors
| the roar
friday, may 12, 2017
The ball is in senior AJ Starks’ court: this November, she signed to play basketball at UMass, a Division One school, with a major in International Studies and a minor in Arabic. “I was happy [when I was offered],” Starks said. “I mean, I had gotten offers from D1 colleges, so like I was just happy and blessed.” Choosing UMass, out of the other offers she had gotten from schools such as LSU and UT, simply came down to the
strength of their academics. “[My family was] kinda confused at the beginning because most of my family is in Louisiana, so they thought that I was going to pick LSU, but they supported me in my decision,” Starks said. “[Also], I’ve been in College Station for seven years, so I just want a new experience and [to] meet new people.” For Starks, basketball isn’t just a step on her path to her goal of becoming an ambassador — it’s been a central part of her
life since she was three. “My dad introduced it to me; he gave me a ball, I picked it up and just went from there,” Starks said. “It’s like an adrenaline rush, and I’m one of those people who chases those types of things — it just makes me happy.” Her passion for the sport shows through to everyone around her, including senior and teammate Sara Hana. “She’s very strong, like physically, and she’s also very quick, and so she’s very fastthinking,” Hana said. “She makes really good passes, she reads the plays very well, so she knows what’s happening.” Starks is also well-known for her sense of humor and leadership both on and off the court. “She’s very very funny, she’s really funny,” Hana said. “[Additionally], everybody’s cool with her, everybody’s comfortable with her, so I feel like that’s the main thing, she just has the leader characteristic that some people are just naturally born with.” Despite her impressive plans for the future, Starks’ life isn’t quite perfect — five days before she signed her letter of commitment to UMass, her father passed away due to a sudden heart attack. “We had just got to the school from a game, and then [my dad’s friend] called
After thirteen years of formal education, senior Ben Bradshaw just “couldn’t stand more school”, so he’s enlisting in the Navy. “I think a few people think that I’m just too dumb to go to college, which may or may not be true,” Bradshaw said. “I think right now, if I went to college I just wouldn’t perform because I’m burnt out.” However, Bradshaw isn’t done with his education; next year, he’ll be working on nuclear submarines. “The Navy stuck out to me as a good option,” Bradshaw said. “I could learn a great trade skill, I did great on the ASVAB [a military aptitude test] so they want me to do nuclear, and after you get out, you can get your college paid for, so that’s another big thing if I want to go to college afterwards. Bradshaw has one more reason for joining the Navy: his strong political viewpoints. “I couldn’t have felt safe joining the military unless Donald Trump won,” Bradshaw said. “I’m absolutely 100% ready to go, I feel like we’re in good leadership, and I have a lot of faith going in.” Like many others enlisting, Bradshaw
has family in the Navy, as all of his greatgrandparents served in the armed forces during World War II. “It’s just a great life experience,” Bradshaw said. “Everybody I’ve talked to tells me that it’s the most difficult thing you’ll ever do and you’ll never regret it. I think there’s a lot to be gained.” According to senior Cody Brummett, the Navy, in turn, will benefit from Bradshaw. “He [usually] knows what he’s talking about, so if he’s talking about something, I usually trust him on it 99% of the time because he does his research,” Brummett said. “He’ll learn a subject; he’ll just go with it and if anyone tries to prove him wrong, he’ll tell them facts, straight-up, so that he when he goes into that or has to do something with that, he knows exactly what he’s talking about.” Bradshaw knows his weaknesses, though. “I have no idea what I’m getting into, I have to play it by ear, you know,” Bradshaw said. “Physically, I’ll be in good shape, it’ll certainly be a change, but I think I’m ready for that too. So, I need to start running more.”
Additionally, Bradshaw is well-known around Consol for his strong opinions. “[He’s] very headstrong, very stubborn, takes it as he sees it, really,” Brummett said. “He likes his opinion - the military doesn’t like your opinion - they think it’s dumb, because they like their own opinions, so I think that’ll be his biggest struggle.” Bradshaw, however, sees his greatest
me and I was like ‘What’s going on?’ and she said, ‘Your dad’s had an accident, he fell asleep at the wheel,’” Starks said. “And I was like, ‘Well, oh, okay, he’s been in accidents before, he’ll be fine.’ So Coach Hines drove me up there to where he was and they were like, ‘He had a heart attack, he died.’ And I was like ‘This can’t be real life.’” However, Starks said that she got back to her normal life after about three weeks because she just “[likes] being happy all the time].” “She’s not a very emotional person,” Hana said. “She’s very, very strong, especially with what happened with her father, she pushed through it like crazy. We had a game the next week and she played and it was her best game, and I think that’s how strong she is.” Starks takes her father’s death as motivation, not only for basketball, but for her career and life in general. “He always pushed me to do better, he always set high goals that people thought he would never reach, so that’s why I said I wanted to be an ambassador, because no one thinks that I can do it,” Starks said. “I think it made me play better, it made me play for more than just I like it and gave me a reason, so I’m playing for my dad and because I like it, it just pushes me over.”
contribution as his dedication. “I’ve never been one to settle for second best,” Bradshaw said. “I’m always taking higher level classes and really straining myself over it because I’ve gotten in over my head, and this happens every year. And so, I always keep trying to push and do better in my life, and I think this is the next step.”
the roar | seniors | 3
friday, may 12, 2017
Senior David Wu is a full-time guardian and part-time college student. With both his parents working overseas in China, Wu has stepped up to be the head of his household for the past two years. “Starting in the morning, I wake my sister up, bring her to school, cook her dinner,” Wu said. “Since college is about taking care of yourself, and I have this experience of taking care of my sister, I actually think it’ll help me to better fit into college life.” In between looking after his sister and keeping up with high school, Wu goes to Texas A&M University to take several advanced math and physics classes. “The beginning of senior year, I took Math 221 and Physics 221, which is multivariable calculus, and optics and thermal physics, and for this semester I’m taking differential equations and linear algebra,” Wu said. “I think that they really added a new perspective of what classes are like in college. The professor is not available all the time for you, so you have to really find the time, really schedule ahead of time to figure out questions.” Due to his positive learning experience at A&M, Wu plans to major in physics at the University of California-Berkeley. “It was a really gradual process. There isn’t really a moment in life where I can pin-
Senior Lacey Naumann has a calling. Come fall, Naumann will be spending her next academic year at Texas Bible Institute. “I want to be a youth pastor; I figured that’s the best place to start,” Naumann said. “I’ve wanted to do something different for a while. So for this time I’ll still be doing something that I love and interests me, [something that] will give me time to think and pray about what I want to do
point that I figured out that I want to major in physics,” Wu said. “Taking all these physics courses, seeing how professors start from scratch with a simple formula and expand it to an integral of d with t--it’s really cool seeing physics happen in front of you. And it’s like during the process of learning that I thought, ‘Hey, why not major in physics?’” Citing “the logic” of physics as his favorite element, Wu explains the basis of his affinity for the science. “With physics, you can figure something out that is completely parallel to our lives and just make it tangible to our current lives and make it applicable to what we need. And I think that’s really cool,” Wu said. “When you write an answer for a physics question it’s definitively right or wrong. You have to get it right or wrong. There’s no such thing as on the edge.” The other reason Wu would like to pursue physics in college is a little less academic. “I’d like to major in physics because the male pool is relatively weaker than other majors. When you try to hit on a girl, you can’t just be like ‘F=ma,’ it’s more about poetry. If I’m majoring in physics, the components competing against me are weak, and I think my chances of getting a girl in the physics department will become increas-
with my life.” Naumann spent the majority of her early life planning on being a teacher. “I realized there are so many hurting people,” Naumann said. “I thought that being a teacher would be a good way to reach out because I know there were times when I wished that I had an adult I could talk to besides my parents.” However, her viewpoint changed after
ingly higher than it is in high school.” Senior and friend Shelly Zhou attests to Wu’s remarkable dedication in both his home and school life. “I know from experience that taking care of a younger sibling takes up a lot of time, and the fact that David takes care of his sister without any parents is really incredible. I can't imagine having that total responsibility without any help, and I really admire the patience and commitment
it takes for him to do that,” Zhou said. “I think it’s really cool that he’s pursuing his interests [at A&M], too.” Wu, however, doesn’t believe he’s anything out of the ordinary. “Honestly, I don’t think taking care of my sister is that special. You know, you’re going to have a child one day, probably,” Wu said. “It’s just a matter of starting early or starting late. And I think starting early is a good way to get ahead of the game.”
thirteen years of public education. “After being in high school, I realized I didn’t want to be stuck teaching to a test or to a curriculum,” Naumann said. “I figured youth ministry, not only could I show people the love of Jesus, but I think it’s a better way for me to reach out to people because I can do so much more in their lives. I can focus more on their emotional and mental needs and spiritual needs as well.” Texas Bible Institute offers a curriculum different from a traditional college or university. “The first semester is the discipleship program, which is building up foundations of faith,” Naumann said. “The second semester is the leadership program.” Because TBI isn’t a traditional college, Naumann’s decision has been met with doubt by some. “There are the people who think it’s just a cop out, or that I couldn’t get into other colleges,” Naumann said. “But I never actually applied to any other colleges. I’m looking forward to really experiencing something new. That’s part of why I didn’t do it, I would hate going to college right after school. It’s just too much stress, and expectations.” Naumann’s physics teacher Charlotte
Wiggins was one of her initial supporters. “I think it’s important that you do what you want to do, what you feel called to do,” Wiggins said. “I’ve had a lot of students who go to college and they get there and it’s not what they want to do. So they're miserable.” Wiggins spent her first semester at Texas A&M as a chemical engineering major, though she was lucky to have a professor who recognized her true talent teaching others. Now, as an educator in Brazos Valley for over 35 years, Wiggins has seen the same thing happen to several of her students. “[Some students] just don’t like what they’re doing, so it makes them sad, they don’t function well, so they end up wasting time before they get to what it is they’re really passionate about,” Wiggins said. “Life is awful long to be unhappy.” After spending a year at Texas Bible Institute, Naumann plans on having chosen a traditional university to attend. “If you want to do something outside of just going to college, go for it,” Naumann said. “But don’t waste years when you’re gonna feel pressured. Don’t waste your years doing something you don’t love.”
4 | seniors
| the roar
friday, may 12, 2017
Senior Justina Reeder knows how to talk shop. “Welding really spoke to me more than I thought it would,” Reeder said. “I was taking the vet tech programs here at the school, but then I started looking into the shop and
I was like, ‘Wow, that looks like fun’.” Reeder took the introduction to Ag Mechanics class her sophomore year and will be attending the Tulsa Welding School & Technology Center in Houston in the fall.
“I realized how much fun I was really having and how much I was enjoying it and then I kept going and I was like, I want to make this a career,” Reeder said. “This is who I am, this is what I enjoy. Why not do what I enjoy for the rest of my life, instead of being miserable at a job that I don’t like?” Reeder’s friends, like fellow senior Kelsey Madron, are supportive. “She’s pretty good at it,” Madron said. “She’ll come back from the shop and have grease on her face and on her hands.” Reeder attributes her welding skills to her art skills. “I draw a lot, so it really feels like I’m just using another form of art to do something that can actually help another person out,” Reeder said. “You just tend to get lost in it like you get lost into a book. I [also] really like working with my hands and getting dirty. I really like the idea of building while destroying something at the same time. That fascinates me.” According to Reeder, being a female in the welding field will also work to her advantage.
To senior Maddie Miller, pursuing a career in the performing arts isn’t about fame or fortune—it’s about her love for art’s “unsurmountable ability to portray emotions” and about the necessity of art for the “wellbeing of society.” “I dance because I have so much passion and I think there’s so much humanity in it,” Miller said. “Art to me is such an important thing, and especially in the South and in College Station, we don’t get enough of it or understand of how much it can affect human emotions.” As a soon-to-be dance major at Chapman University in California, Miller is most excited about the independence and adventure that living in the Golden State will entail. “I’m so excited to get out of College Station and go to another state where the culture is so different,” Miller said. “I’m excited to be on my own, officially, but also in a really cool environment where I get to dance all the time.” Passionate about the arts at a young age, Miller knew from middle school that she wanted to commit herself to dancing. “It was always my fear of having a desk job, ever since I was [young],” Miller said. “I am so bent out on going out and doing things, and when I found dance, I was like, ‘This is what I want to do.’” Following her decision to pursue dance at a collegiate level, Miller dedicated countless hours to perfecting her performances for numerous auditions.
“You have to apply to the school separately, and then to get in an audition, and then you have to apply to the dance program, and an in-program audition,” Miller said. “While all my friends were applying to A&M or UT, here I was applying to eight programs with four different applications for each program. It was remarkably overwhelming but definitely worth it.” Miller learned through this expensive, time-consuming process of flying out to schools all across the United States for auditions about the complicated nature of acceptance. “I would go into auditions and they’d be like, ‘Even if you’re a really good dancer, if we have someone like you or you’re just not what fits our program, we’re not going to accept you,’” Miller said. She has also recognized through fellow dancers in the California area that the stereotype of a starving artist is often untrue, and that what’s most important as a performer is hard work and an open mind. “I don’t want to a pick a certain route or close myself off because I think a lot of performers are like, ‘I want to be on Broadway and nothing else,’ and they close themselves off from so many other opportunities,” Miller said. “Since I can do all of those things, I love to sing, I love to act, I love to dance, I want to stay open. I think as soon as you start getting picky, you run into the problem of not finding jobs.” Though Miller is nervous for the lack of stability that many performers face after
university, pursuing a career she is truly passionate about makes dance worth it. “I want a job that’s adventurous and fun, and though the performing arts can be scary and not stable, it’s something that’s so much more important than being an accountant [to me],” Miller said. “We definitely need accountants, but for me as a person, [art is] just something that clicks so much better.” While she occasionally faces judgment from fellow classmates who question her
“Females are known to have a steadier hand, pay attention to more detail, work fast and clean at the same time, so women get better pay, better jobs, better opportunities, so it just works out so well,” Reeder said. “Showing everybody up is what I want to do. And showing up a man is the best thing to do.” Because of this she has confidence in her future. “A year from now I see myself just graduating Tulsa College in Houston, coming back home, being with my family for a little bit, looking at jobs that will want me,” Reeder said. “Being a female welder puts you at a higher ranking than the males.” Reeder encourages other women considering traditionally male careers to pursue their passions. “Don’t be afraid to take life by the reins, even if you’re female and you’re wanting to do something that is typically a male job do it,” Reeder said. “I’m scared, but that’s the thrill of it. Don’t be afraid to do something because someone else thinks you can’t do it. Do you. Live it up.”
career choice, Miller stands by her decision entirely and ultimately believes in her own talent. “Don’t let the judgment of all the intellectuals around you, who [say], ‘I’m going to be a doctor and I’m going to all these places,’ affect your decision on whether or not you want to pursue [art],” Miller said. “It’s a lot of hard work, so you have to make sure, 110% sure, that this is what you want to do, because it is a huge commitment. But if you’re committed, you will succeed.”
the roar | seniors | 5
friday, may 12, 2017
Yousef, Last year, I could not picture you in high school with me for my senior year. Let’s be honest here: you’re loud, inattentive, and often forgetful. I really thought you would be stuffed in a locker three times a week. But you proved me wrong. You’ve really grown this year. Not only in height (you never fail to remind me that I’m the shortest one in the family now), but as a person. Even though I make you late to soccer practice everyday because I hate waking up, you never really get mad at me. (Sorry you had to run punishments for being late so often.) You have a great work ethic, and you’re always ready to help people. I think you survived freshman year, but I’d like to give you some advice for when I’m not there: Watch what you say and when you say it. Everyone who has the *honor* of becoming acquaintances with you knows that you love the sound of your own voice. I don’t mean to hashtag roast you, but please think before you speak. You don’t have to be the best at something to enjoy it. If you focus on whatever makes you happy instead of being better than everyone else, you will enjoy high school more. Comparison is the thief of joy. Finally, and I think most importantly, learn to take yourself seriously. It’s alright to let people administer some (welldeserved) roast sessions, but don’t let anyone walk all over you. I know you have a reputation of being a hooligan, which is fine, but don’t let that define you as a person. You’re gonna be fine, chump. SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEE, Nour
Dear Logan, What an adventure it has been. Remember sharing a room in Buenos Aires, or navigating the narrow streets on the way to school in France? Remember when, in each new place we moved to, neither of us had friends yet—just each other’s company? Every time I try to picture a moment in which I have felt truly alone, I can’t—you’re there with me. I can’t imagine being a thousand miles away in just months. You have three more years of high school. Use them not only to work hard for your grades, or think about the future, but to pursue what you love. Devote yourself to yourself--this is a time to figure out what you want and who you want to be for others. I sound so cheesy, but I’m serious. I spent so much of high school stressing about grades and college I know I missed some opportunities to figure myself out, to take full advantage of the time I had with the people I love. High school isn’t easy, and I won’t be there to help you through it—at least in person. But I am only a phone call (or a 14-hour drive) away. Go get ‘em. Love, Zo
Dear Ethan, I hate bringing up college applications when you’re just a freshman, but I know this topic will arise sooner or later in the next two years. I want to give you specific advice about this process, but the problem is, I don’t have that kind of knowledge. See, all those books I read about “how to crack college admissions” were useless; the only thing I learned from this whole process was that 1) there’s a group of admissions officers who evaluate your application and 2) no known psychic capabilities exist to read their minds to see what improves your chances of acceptance. However, there is one notable lesson I learned. Do what interests you, because high school will be much more rewarding if you do so. This might seem pretty obvious, but let me approach it from the another perspective. Don’t do something because someone said that “colleges like that” or because so-and-so did that and got into [insert prestigious college here]. What do they know that you don’t? And if something is fun but hurts your GPA (like tennis), just take the hit and keep doing it. Personally, GPA-hawking wasn’t worth it, and plus, tennis keeps you reasonably sane and fit. Also, one other piece of advice: write your timed writings on wide-ruled paper and double space so it makes it seem like you have more to say. Love, Andrew
6 | seniors | the roar
friday, may
ARIZONA
missouri
Chris Maness
Talyah Holmes
arizona state university
university of missouri
new york
arkansas
university of arkansas
Bard college & conservatory
Landon Hux
Isabela Cruz-Vespa
vassar college
california
Carlos Espina
university of california, berkeley David Wu
Brandon Zhao
Maddie Miller
stanford university Lexi Kuppersmith
Yanichka Ariunbold
university of southern california Joshua Hart
colorado state university Amanda Rivera
cedarville University Autumn Foust
concordia University Tasha Williams
university of oregon
illinois
Sean Gunn
university of chicago
south dakota
Alena Kang-Landsberg
south dakota state university
iowa
Jacob Hanson
drake university
tennessee
Jared DeFriend
louisiana
vanderbilt university Oceane Parker
louisiana state university Marsavion Gollnick
Kansas kansas weslayan University Alison Zamora
maryland maryland institute college of art Dana Choe
Massachusetts university of massachusetts, Amherst AJ Starks
ohio oregon
colorado
Aysia Martin Devonte Paldo
North Carolina Duke University
chapman university
texas Braden Goodwin
austin community college
Jacob Shepherd
Lawson Klotz Matthew Arthur
blinn college Adriana Macias Akram Suliaman Alex Cupit Alex French
Javi Ramirez Jon Alaniz Josh Mikeska Kaleb Goodman Kali Camacho Kalissa Cernuch Karla Aybar Keenen Houston Kenley Vestal Keston Jones Korey Goodman Lia Guillen Mackenzie Price Mariah Lopez Michael Garza Michael Lopez-Diaz Miguel Flores Natiana Nation Nick Rians Noah Shafer Paige Ary Perla Guerrero Ramtin Reihani Robert Franklin Samantha Conrad Sara Hana Shelby Stratton Sinathy Kao Syed Rizwan Tre Flowers Tricia Avilez Za’Maria Marshall Zeke Cadena
Sasha Lee
cisco college Mady Schultz
Dallas Baptist University Burl Carraway
Kylee Shipp
East texas Baptist University
baylor university Josh Eidson Krysta Kenney
Ariane Chapman Ashley Toups Bryce Nesbitt Carlos Prida Carson Fink Chris Garcia Chris Hines Christian Powell Cody Shrimpton Collin Christian Conner Button Courtlynn Ross Courtney Skains Crystal Hosea Damian Navarro Danielle Fletcher Desiree Allen Fairooz Ibnat Ramisa Gillian Fexer Gio Garcia Grant Murphs Hailey Medina Hailey Phillips Haley Groff Haley Hearne Harley Coons Harrison Wedeking Ireon Kemp Jackie Contreras- Galvan Jacob Cote Jarrod Lawrence Jason Michael Wright
blinn college, Brenham
angelo state University
Alonzo Credes Rojas Andrei Todd
prarie View A&M University
blinn college
Allison Lackey Alyssa Laine Analessia Martinez Anthony Amador
Grant Johnson
Jonathon Sylvester
lamar University Abel Daily
lone star college Kierra Moore
Paris junior college Austin Fowler
John Altman
Abby Ramirez Brianna Levi Landrea Thompson
Trianna Levi VeAnnie Allen
rice university Andrew Pham Benjamin Lamb Rachel Lamb
Shelly Zhou Vi Burgess
sam houston state university Alex Ocampo Anna Reddy Hector Cepeda
Rebecca Bradshaw Tyon Merchant
San jacinto college Audrey Batten
Southwestern University Kay Watson
tarleton state university Caitlin Crowder
Katie Woodworth
texas A&M University Aaron Garrett Ajil Matthew Alanna Kovar Alexis Girouard Allie Wenzel Allyson Eoff Amanda Clegg Amber Taylor Andres Orozco Andrew Martin Ashton Gully Avery Michalk Avrie Hodges Ayush Upreti Becca Curry Bridget Griesbach Brittany Scott Carson Todd Catarina Hurtado Charlie McKenzie Claire Garner Cody Brummett Daniel Ioerger David Poteet Emily Garrett Emily Hay Graham Waller Hannah Hildebrandt Hunter Scott
Irene Hsieh Isabel Condon-Heck Jackson McGuffey Janisah Saripada Jedidiah Romo Jenna Gray John Paul Whiteacre Josey Meyer JR Matlock Juan Ordonez Juliana Shrestha June Jeong Kade Flynn Kate Motley Kaylie Olsen Kelly Krenek Kelsey Siddons Kelvin Wang Kenji Blum Kylan Lewis Kyle Schlueter Lamya El Nihum Lily Taylor Lydia Garcia Mabel Eggebrecht Maddy Wright Mance Harmon Marissa Lartigue
the roar | seniors | 7
12, 2017
texas A&M University Marissa McShane Matthew Loden Matthew Spencer Mckean Matson Melody Donaldson Michelle Lane Mikki Miller Molly Cole Nooran Riaz Nour Hilal Olsen Schwartz Peyton McDermott Rachel Bernardo Ross Villanueva Sam Ramirez
Samantha Mallen Samisha Panthi Sean Kluver Sebastian Tchakerian Shannon Gabriel Taylor Gray Tiffany Barrett Trent Spears Victor Rocha-Rojas Victoria Nelson Vivian Ramont Waylon Roosma Will Munoz Will Sullivan Zain Marediya
texas christian university
university of texas, dallas
Brooke Gully
Eric Harris
texas state university
university of texas, san antonio
Brett Leopold Emily Keith Kara Rust
Anna Lopez
Kayla Cave Sarah Donaldson Vaughn Jones
texas tech university trinity university trinity valley community college Tony Williams
university of houston
texas A&M University, kingsville Kaylee Ramos
Rose Richards
Naaman Outing
Madison Welch
university of north texas Celeste Aucoin Logan Childs
Jamaal Moss Kelsey Madron
university of texas, arlington
texas A&M University, San antonio
Grace Manuel
Ana Santillan Castaneda Dulce Rodriguez Gonzales Hilary Mitchell
university of texas, AUstin
texas bible institute Lacey Naumann
Jackie Cuajicalco Villalobos Kimberly Carroll Lourdes Percino Vanessa Morgan
Amanda Jackson Andrew Hill Benjamin Belov Emily Caldwell Emily Rude Haley Mitchell
Riley Kuttler
utah state university Leiah Hickson
university of mary hardin-baylor
Tory Templin
Za’Maia Marshall
Regan Kuttler
Cannon Coker Christian Mancuso Mackenzie Rosario
wayland baptist university
brigham young university
Katie Barondeau
Bailey Hayes-Daniels
texas A&M University, galveston
Katerina Kountakis
utah
Camryn Garner
Texas A&M University, Corpus Christi Kayla Kubelka
Sara Burchfield
Joshua Brooks Jack Hall Kaitlyn Gilmore Shlok Mohanty Sujay Shankar Takuma Fujiwara Tian-Shu Huang
military airforce Kyle Lindsey Quinten Jackson
army
Ashli Stewart Derrick West Frank Williams
Ryan Romero Tommy Huitron John Primrose Keenan Robinson Kasha Wann
Marine corps Devin Alford Eva Barnhardt Liam McPeck
Matthew Gonzales Micahel Blodgett Rebecca Prince
Navy Ben Bradshaw
Joey Blackmon Jr.
trade school Alex Langston Collin Capps Justina Reeder Miranda Gallardo
Steven Dee Steven Widders Thaddeus Crum Weston Thibodeaux
gap year Aly Fairbanks Daniel Carrasco
John Blinn
workforce Cheyenne Cook David Jamioy Georgie Erickson Jailene Lopez Jasmina Wade Jose Aguero JP Perez
Kolten Howell Logan Darwin Megan Hightower Tristan Chaney Wesley Warehime Zachary Key
mission
Jason Jasperson
other / undecided Dany Godfrey DeVante Burton Guerin Tran Hailey Lopez Isabel Salcido Kamry Rollins Kylie Fitzgerald Mattie Lightfoot
Mila Sihvonen Paco Diaz Paula Osorio Steven Bean Syd Holmes Ted Williams Tyri Merchant
8 | seniors
| the roar
friday, may 12, 2017
nursing biomedical science
5.4% 3%
business computer science
26.2%
3.3% 3.6%
22%
4.5%
5.7% military 2.1% trade school
KATERINA KOUNTAKIS section editor
6.5% workforce/gap year
84.8% higher education
I am sitting on a bed and my heart is breaking. “Kat, we are here for you. How can we judge you when we’ve done messed up things too?” I want to tell them, but I’m embarrassed. I am not used to people truly caring about me. “No matter what you did or what happened, we still love you. We will always love you.” That is when I break down, telling my mistakes while my friends held me and stayed true to their word. *** I hate high school hallways. They always make me frustrated and annoyed. “KAT!” I turn around and I instantly smile. “You are so beautiful. You look beautiful everyday. How are you? I haven’t seen you in a while. Are you doing okay?” This is preceded by a warm, comforting hug, and I am smiling so widely that my cheeks always hurt a little afterwards. I suddenly don’t feel annoyed anymore, but safe and loved. I love high school hallways. *** Card games are always a good way to start wars. Most of the time, this involves intense arguments and accusations. “UGH! I see the slap, but don’t move fast enough to get it.” My friend says this while doing a little spaz and we are all laughing so hard we are on the floor. “Come on. This is the card. I know it.” I look at my friends and the comfort, freedom, and amusing feeling that makes us laugh so much over a silly ERS game is something I will cherish forever. Maybe, with the right people, having card game wars involves something more than fights. Dear lifelong friends: Your kindness has transformed me. I have never experienced true friendships like this. I am around you all, and I smile and laugh everyday because of it. You are constantly asking how I am doing and calling me beautiful. You are constantly
thinking of my well-being and actually caring if I am okay or not. I will miss that. I will miss the bright smiles and bear hugs. I am scared that when I leave, I am not going to find that kind of love. I am afraid of the past repeating and not having a caring atmosphere around me that makes me feel so safe. What am I supposed to do now that we are going separate ways? I just got close to y’all this year. I don’t want that to go away. I have learned so much from all of you. You have inspired me to always be kind to people no matter what and taught me how to love myself. Your love saved me. I have never met such beautiful hearts and souls. When I was at my most vulnerable, you were there to hold me. It was because of your strength that I am able to keep moving forward and have hope. I don’t know what would have happened if you were not there to catch me when I fell. Just knowing I have you all by my side means more to me than any one of you will ever know. You have impacted me in a different way and made me the person I am today. I want you to know how much you have changed my life. There is no way I could have accomplished what I did in the past two years, grown this much as a person, or have had the best high school year of my life without y’all. This is not a goodbye, but a thank you. I owe y’all the world and more. My love grows everyday, and I wish you could see yourselves the way I see you. I see people who are so beautiful, inside and out, that I am in awe every time I turn around. I see insanely intelligent people who constantly blow my mind everyday. Y’all are everything. You all deserve the world, and I know each one of you will live the best life and kick major ass. Thank you for being in my life. Thank you for everything. I love you and I always will. Katerina will be attending the University of Texas at San Antonio to major in English.
friday, may 12, 2017
My sister is the type of person who will wait up for you to get home (while watching High School Musical to keep herself up). She’s also the type of person who will wear your clothes and swear to you they’re hers… because she can. She’s my best friend. I can assure you, those were words I never thought I’d say. We always seem to fight more than we get along, especially when we were younger. I had a temper, and she knew how to make it flare. And I know I’m not alone—if you have a sibling and say you’ve never fought with them, well, I don’t believe you. But hey, that’s not the point of this. What follows is the story of how my sister, an obnoxious, spoiled, and immature freshman, somehow became my trusted confidante and my go-to companion over the course of this year. A lot of it probably has to do with simply the amount of time we spend with each other. We’re always around each other, and she’s always there. I can’t seem to get rid of her sometimes. Since a lot of the time we’re headed to the same place, we ride everywhere together. We have a system: I get in the car, she complains about it being hot, I turn on the AC, I hand her my phone, she picks the music. Sometimes I sincerely enjoy our time together, and I sit there and look at her and admire how far she’s come. And other times, I want to open up her passenger door and physically kick her out of the car (not really). But overall, it’s pretty nice. I really like knowing that I always have her there, and I’m there for her. We talk about almost everything—there’s not a whole lot that she doesn’t know about me, and vice versa. Next year, when I’m away at college, I think that’ll be the thing I miss the most. A friend of mine once remarked that my sister and I “check each other constantly,” and I couldn’t agree more. We’re incessantly looking each other up and down, looking for a shoelace untied, a hair out of place. Because, if we find one thing wrong, we don’t let the other off the hook until it’s fixed. Whether it be as simple as
the roar | seniors | 9
EMILY CALDWELL staff reporter
having a shirt on backwards or something as as serious as falling down the stairs in public, we don’t let the other hear the end of it (and we never stop laughing afterwards either). I yell at her about her scandalous (I think they’re scandalous) shirts, and she yells back that I have my shirt buttoned up too high. I yell at her about doing her homework, she yells back that I do too much and can’t have fun. While the majority of arguments we have are about things we will never see eye to eye on, we still have them. Why? Because we’re siblings. But just because we bicker doesn’t mean we can’t talk. I’ve told my sister some things that I’ve never told another human being ever. Once we established a mutual trust (it took a while), a door opened. And now, at the end of my senior year, I am closer with a freshman than I am with some of my senior friends that I’ve known all my life. It’s crazy what maturity can do to the disposition of a growing teenager. One thing I think I hear too often, though, is a phrase along the lines of, “Wow Emily, you’re such a good big sister, you’re so nice.” It’s usually spoken with a connotation implying that our relationship is pretty uncommon, or at least with one of surprise because they aren’t used to witnessing siblings being genuinely kind to each other. Maybe it’s because we’re close in age, maybe it’s because we do lots of things together and share similar interests, but when did it become the norm for siblings to fight constantly? When did it become the norm for older siblings to never help the younger ones out and for the younger ones to never appreciate the effort the older ones go through? Of course, we don’t get along constantly. We’re not angel children, and quite frankly don’t pretend to be. But she’s my sister, and the only one I’ve got or will ever get. We both might as well learn, or at least try, to always be there for each other. Emily will be attending the University of Texas at Austin to major in Latin American studies.
JUNE JEONG opinions editor
The hospital-like fluorescent lights and brick walls painted in a dull white aren’t helpful. At the sound of the bell, students flood the halls, over-crowding the school building’s tight hallways—my eyes glaze over as I walk with an I’m-dead-inside expression on my face, avoiding contact with other students also making their way to their next class, and plugging in my earbuds to drown out the deafening sound of students clamouring, laughing. It’s nearly the end of the school-day, and I’m walking to my last period—tired, and stressed, and annoyed. These thoughts and feelings are extremely mundane, trivial even, but they’re also naggingly immediate, demanding to be felt and listened to. Because moments when I’m frustrated with work, or stressed during an exam, or waiting in a ridiculously long line, all I care about is how annoyed I’m feeling. My immediate line of thinking concerns the nearly inescapable, default feeling that every situation and experience revolves around me, that my hunger and my fatigue, my stress, my sadness, my anger are important above all else. Perhaps the worst aspect of this “selfism” that pervades all of our systems is that it results in what David Foster Wallace describes as a form of self-worship. Self-worship sounds like an evil, all-consuming way of life, but it isn’t. We all do it, every time we determine our worth through our qualities and possessions. Wallace describes it as the kind of religion “you gradually slip into, day after day, getting more and more selective about how you measure value.” And as he puts it, atheism doesn’t quite exist in daily life. All of us are slaves to investing energy and finding value in what we have, which inevitably fails. It’s a simple but easily forgotten truth: those of us who find worth in intellect and wisdom feel stupid when we are exposed to more intelligent people. Those of us who worship our own beauty feel unworthy around more attractive people. Those of
us who value our wealth desperately grasp at fleeting pleasure, only to feel empty. The world by nature seems to encourage these forms of self-worship in that institutions, the workplace, corporations, thrive off of our insecurities, our utmost fears, our frustrations. We find ourselves instilling time and energy on wealth, beauty, intellect, power and ultimately ending up in a state of fragile self-dependence that is wrought with instability. And when we see others as ‘having more,’ we quickly confront feelings of inadequacy, while simultaneously belittling and undermining those we see as ‘having less’ than we do. Indulgence in “selfism” doesn’t just make us insecure; it makes us judgmental, and perhaps turns off the most essential and human aspect of who we are: empathy. I recognized this through a pattern of my behavior, trying to be funny at the expense of another person’s feelings. I discovered that I often only truly empathize with people if I find out about a difficult or tragic event that happened in their life. But this line of thinking in itself demonstrates a selfish, ‘selective’ empathy by which people must be deemed worthy of my acceptance and humanity. I don’t demand or even ask anyone reading this to fix their “selfism,” because it’s hard, and it’s ingrained. After all, by nature, selfishness allows us to thrive and benefit ourselves, and the world thrives off of it. I merely ask my fellow classmates to remain aware of our naturally selfish line of thinking. Maybe real transcendence, liberation from destructive, selfish worship comes from acknowledging that our value isn’t what we have, but how we choose to love others, and what we do in the world. As we head off into this next chapter of our lives, as dancers, engineers, construction managers, economists, soldiers, teachers, doctors, accountants, artists, I ask that we all at least recognize the universal feeling of insecurity we face as we all search for fulfillment and meaning. June will be attending the Texas A&M University to major in business.
10 | seniors
| the roar
friday, may 12, 2017
RACHEL LAMB executive editor
All of my life I have been surrounded by people who are half like me, half not. I move between two seemingly opposite cultures: half of me like my Christian family from Texas, different from my northeastern Jewish family. My experiences are split between my time in College Station, Texas and the summers I spend at my Jewish summer camp outside of Philadelphia. The differences appeared early. In first grade, a classmate told me I had to be Christian because all whites are Christian; then, my best friend started to cry because she was Christian and black. I’m not sure it helped when my classmate, Mark, jumped in, explaining that Jesus was white and Jewish. Later, as I began attending summer camp in Pennsylvania, I was introduced to a Northeastern version of narrow-mindedness by a fellow camper whose first reaction to meeting me was, “There are Jews in Texas?” This is not a typical summer camp. My summers involve sitting in circles in the grass discussing economic systems, world events, and community, while taking breaks to do more camp-like activities. We have intense conversation involving the limits of Democracy, race relations and the flaws of capitalism-followed quickly by shaving cream fights, pool parties and zip-lining. We have no air conditioning or fancy sports fields, and every camper has a job to contribute to the upkeep of the camp. These activities build pride in our camp and help us build a caring community. Camp infuses its way across the rest of my life daily, not only providing a comforting community in times of struggle, but teaching me how to handle and overcome difficult situations. I find myself in an odd balance. At camp, I constantly defend my small hometown in Texas that I care for, one that has raised me and contains almost everything and everyone I know. When people made negative comments about Texas or dismissed Texas as lesser or unnecessary, I felt a strong urge to fight back and explain what made it great. To try to explain in
words why my upbringing in College Station and the community I had built was so important and essential to my life and future. Yet at the same time, my home in Texas is a place that does not always seem to accept me, or anyone too different from the mainstream. My summer camp, which prides itself on inclusiveness, does not always reach the point of complete acceptance either, with my friends espousing stereotypes about Texas faster than I can refute them. I am fortunate. College Station attracts many people from all over the world. I have had opportunities to interact with a diverse group of people – a real strength of the city, adding to my community in an otherwise uniform town. The communities I have grown up in have taught me to value and learn from others’ attitudes and experiences. Constantly having to defend Texas has helped me to understand the strengths and weaknesses of the culture I grew up in. Defending Texas has also taught me how to respectfully disagree, even with people whose values often mirror mine. After years of thinking that my destiny had to be beyond the large borders of Texas, I’ll be going to college only two hours down the road. I think it took the thought of leaving for good to realize how much I love and need the community I have built in Texas over the past 18 years. Yet before I head off to college I will be returning to my summer camp, this time as a counselor, to try to build and share the community and incredible experiences I have had there with young campers. I hope they can find their place in a community I have grown to love, but they never let it limit themselves from meeting new people and experiencing different cultures. Rachel will be attending Rice University to major in social policy analysis.
YANICHKA ARIUNBOLD section editor
This is it. In exactly two weeks, we seniors will be flipping through the pages of programs that have our (!!) names listed in alphabetical order and sporting the overpriced maroon gowns we’ve witnessed older siblings, friends, teachers—but never us—wear. I ask you to pay close attention to the sensations you will feel at Reed Arena (do you remember the free tickets we would get in elementary school to watch the A&M women’s basketball team play there?). Make sure to pinch the ceremonial fabric draped over you from time to time. Reach up and touch the tassel hanging from your cap every so often. Turn your head to exchange a quick glance with your best friend, who is sitting 200 or so strangers away, and lock that image in your mind. In a couple years, you’ll remember graduation with the haziness that accompanies all such Momentous Life Events, and you’ll have trouble remembering the specifics—only that you got handed a fake diploma and exchanged “Oh my god let’s hang out this summer!!!”‘s with acquaintances you knew deep down you’d never see again. Yet the specifics are important. So, as you grab the edge of your cold, metal folding chair in two weeks, remember the back-pain-inducing stools and creaky blue and maroon chairs you’ve sat on for four years. In some ways, we’ve had a unifying experience at Consol. We’ve taken required classes that often served to disinterest us from learning altogether, struggled to navigate around (or inside) the ‘Grind Circle’ at school dances, and occasionally smelled weed—among other things—in the bathroom in the cafeteria. We’ve had wonderful teachers who exuded passion for their job, and we’ve had weary teachers who never made the effort to learn names, even if you did sit in the front row for an entire semester. I don’t know if they knew, but we could always tell if teachers didn’t actually believe all
of the idealistic sayings displayed on the posters that covered every inch of their classroom walls. We’ve walked the same hallways, and at times, felt like the off-white paint and the cracked tile floor were oppressing us from all sides; other times, we thought they were endearing—this was our Consol, imperfections and all. Already, we’ve experienced heartbreak—not in the woe-is-me, romantic sense, but the suffocating kind we thought only happened to “grown-ups.” We decided to conceal these emotional burdens every time we walked through the school doors, accessorizing our fraying sense of self with a lanyard, ID, and dress-code compliant clothes. Somehow, though, in the middle of the afternoon, we would suddenly be struck by how impossible it seemed to get through the rest of today, and the day after, and the day after that. But we did. You may think I’m being overly sentimental. I used to be. But ever since my dad—the loyal family man, the impulsive dog-adopter, the repeater of “Yanichka, never forget where you come from”—ever since he left me and my mom to figure out the rest of our lives without him, I’ve decided that melodramatic sentimentalism rife with hypocrisy and defensiveness is not a philosophy I’d ever like to follow. I’m writing to you today with something else: I task you with remembering high school without the haziness and deceptive nostalgia. To remember the specifics: the good, bad, everything in between. To neither have “stuck-in-high-school syndrome” nor forever think of Consol as a prison—it may have looked like one, and sometimes felt like one, but you and I know that there were worse places to be. Class of 2017, I know how hard the past four years have been for you, but you’ve done well. I am proud. It’s been both my pleasure and my personal hell. Yanichka will be attending Stanford University to major in neurobiology.
the roar | seniors | 11
friday, may 12, 2017
HALEY MITCHELL managing editor VI BURGESS editor-in-chief This may be the last time I get to say this, but to most of you – even those of y’all whose only interaction with me is through my surveys – I’m the editor-in-chief of The Roar. And right now, I know you really don’t care anymore; heck, you’re all probably either reading this newspaper because a) you love me a whole lot or b) you’re killing time before you can walk out the front doors, and who I am really isn’t important to you. But to me, that title was about half of my identity this past year. All of us have something like that, some singular title that people know you as, the one thing that you’re proud to be associated with, whether it be that-guy-who-brought-anair-rifle-to-school or the-athlete-whosigned-at-A&M or our lovely Student Body President. And the rest of my identity – that’s how I define myself in relation to people: I’m someone’s best friend, I’m someone’s girlfriend, I’m someone’s homework resource, I’m someone’s violin partner, et cetera. Like everyone else here, I exist in relation to other people. Don’t get me wrong – I’m proud to be associated with them, to have my name linked to theirs, much as all of us are someone’s child or friend or significant other or whatever. See, here’s the problem. In about two and a half months from now, it really won’t matter at all that my best friend is Vivian Ramont, because where I’m going, there’s going to be exactly three people who recognize that name. Three. Whole. People. It doesn’t diminish the fact that I love her and some of my best memories of high school are sitting across from her getting coffee, it’s just that, like the half of Consol ‘17 moving out of College Station next year, whether that’s to college or work or trade school or the military or whatever you’re doing, the labels that we’ve all built for ourselves cease to matter. Even those of us at A&M or Blinn or working in College Station next year - what happened in high school really isn’t going to matter. To digress for a minute, I’ve been itch-
ing to get out of College Station practically since I arrived in the hallways of middle school; it’s always felt too restrained, too insular for me. But as I get closer and closer to the move-in day, I’m just like, shoot, I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to leave a place where I worked for years and years to earn the labels that I have now (*cough* crushing on the same guy for two point five years) nor the security that they lend me when I ask myself, who am I? Next year, all I’m going to have is Vi Burgess, biochemistry major that’s definitely getting in over her head and the labels that I can’t change – my race, my gender, my sexuality, my level of intellect, all of the innate characteristics that could pretty much be printed on a college application. And I mean, who really knows enough about themselves to say that they’re going to define themselves by being the kind one or the bossy one? We can’t see inside each other’s heads at all, and the people I love enough to ask will lie to me to make the truth more palatable. So I, the control freak who loves Google Calendar till death do us part, am stepping into next year with absolutely no idea what’s ahead of me, what I want from life, nor who I think I’ll become. As I begin the process of handing over the newspaper key and hugging my best friend and my mom goodbye until I can come back home, I’m just going to have to be satisfied that I won’t know who I am until long after I’ve finished most of my life, because I’m never going to find anything unless I keep searching for something a little better, a little more complete. Vi will be attending Rice University to major in biochemistry and cell biology.
An indie short film spurred my Bruce Springsteen obsession. A one-shot, one-monologue masterpiece, Jim Cummings’ Thunder Road perplexes at first. Because I’m assuming that none of y’all will want to take 13 minutes out of your day to watch the short, I’ll summarize: Cummings portrays this quirky police officer, torn apart by the death of his mother Brenda, and at her funeral he delivers a eulogy ending in a horrendously awkward performance of her favorite song, Thunder Road. It was hard to wrap my head around. I just kept watching it. Absorbing it. Reveling in the discomfort. The sorrow. The film is an odd blur of reality and fiction—this police officer doesn’t exist, nor did Brenda, but her favorite singer Bruce Springsteen does, and to her “Bruce Springsteen meant leaving a small town and doing something with your life.” Well, that part I could understand. So I kept listening to Thunder Road and read up on The Boss. I ran across one of his more interesting philosophies, which Springsteen described in an interview for Vanity Fair: “I always picture it as a car. All your selves are in it. And a new self can get in, but the old selves can’t ever get out. The important thing is, who’s got their hands on the wheel at any given moment?” It’s ludicrous, but it stuck. What would this look like? How many people, different versions of myself, are crammed into my car? How many people are crammed into the car of someone who’s, say, 80 years old? I thought about this a lot in January, when I was diagnosed with anxiety, depression, and a family brand of OCD that puts funny pictures in my head, if I’m putting it kindly. I was having weekly panic attacks. Just functioning became difficult. A counselor strongly suggested that I check into Scott and White’s Mental Health Clinic. Therapy and medication have helped, but I can’t help but think that the person I was in January and many months before
is still in my car. On bad days she’s at the wheel. But the reality is that everyone gets sad. The best thing to do is be a light to someone’s dark places. An extended hand. I was in San Antonio for a photo competition, and a big cycling race was being held in front of my favorite landmark ever, The Alamo (remember?). Foot traffic had come to a complete standstill as the bikers entered their final lap. I was looking through the lens of a camera when I heard Kat say my name, then say it again, then again with increasing levels of panic in each iteration. I looked up and a fairly obvious scene had unfolded—part of the racing barrier was felled by two bikers who had taken a turn too sharply. The first got up, dusted himself off. The second sat up, and, with a red stain blooming across his chest, screamed. A section of the fence had gone through the back of his shoulder. He had been impaled right before our eyes. In our disbelief, our complete and utter dismay, Kat held out her hand, and I took it. We watched paramedics arrive on the scene, whispered “Oh my God” to ourselves probably a hundred times, but eventually we walked away. Despite scouring San Antonio news sites for weeks after, I’m still not sure what became of that man. But Kat’s hand. A mundane thing, I know, but someone else being there, someone else seeing what I saw made the reality of that particular situation easier to cope with. It makes any situation easier to cope with. It’s easier to take care of yourself when other people are willing to show they care, too. Then it’s easier to know who has their hands on the wheel. And it’s a good feeling, knowing that it’s the best possible version of yourself. Haley will be attending the University of Texas at Austin to major in radio-television-film.
CHS