Once upon a time, we couldn’t have cared less about the news. The media merely existed to bombard us with an endless stream of depressing information, none of which we found particularly engaging. Occasionally, we might have glanced at the headlines about international conflict, political corruption, and global destruction—meaningless events happening in locations miles and miles away. The goings-on in the rest of the world just weren’t applicable to us. Here in our cozy Arcadia bubble, we felt safe and secure, protected from all of the hardships of Elsewhere, and we were content. Nothing could possibly go wrong, we assured ourselves.

Then the economy abruptly took a nosedive, and all hell broke loose. We had always known that the country had its share of financial problems, but to witness them compounding in such a sudden and in-your-face way was genuinely shocking. Housing prices plummeted, unemployment soared, and national panic ensued. And our beloved California, holder of the worst credit rating in the nation, received the brunt of the fiscal blow.

      Last year, our eyes were truly opened to the severity of our economic troubles. In the spring, we faced the frightening possibility of mandated teacher layoffs, a highly stressful situation for students and faculty alike. Fortunately, that crisis was later averted with an across-the-board salary cut, but we could no longer dismiss the state budget deficit as an extraneous issue. Tension mounted, and a tangible anxiety permeated the halls of AHS. Our teachers expressed concern over larger class sizes and poor classroom equipment, factors that seemed inevitable in the years to come.

      Education is typically one of the last areas to receive cuts, which only underscores the seriousness of our financial woes. Billions of dollars that should have gone toward school funding have been redirected to address the budget shortfall. The Cal Grant program, which so many students rely upon, is in danger of elimination. Public universities can no longer afford to admit as many applicants as they have in prior years. And with the recently issued IOUs in place, we will have a difficult time paying off student grants when it’s our turn to apply to college.

      With so many discouraging reports in the papers, throwing in the towel may seem like a pretty tempting option. Why bother trying anymore? The next few years certainly look rather bleak. But there’s more than one way to assess the situation. On one side, we can argue that the outlook seems grim for many of us in high school—certainly a greater percentage of Americans than five or ten years ago. On the other side, we can reason that such an obstacle should only encourage us to try harder, to step up to the plate and aggressively push ourselves for the future we want.

      If there were ever a time to foster legitimate academic motivation, it is now. Perhaps we once believed that school was something to blow off, little more than 12 mandatory years of incarceration, but the economic crisis should serve as a wake-up call for all of us. Now, more than ever, our effort in school matters.

      At AHS, we are by default no strangers to competition. We’re already engaged in our own battles for the top grade, the top leadership position, and ultimately the top college. This new competition is merely an extension of our existing rivalries—now that major auto and insurance companies have no choice but to lay off employees, the competition for jobs will increase as well. And statistically speaking, the best way to ensure success in the working world is to perform well in school, acquire a decent education in college, and then pursue a career.

      Will we ever achieve the happy ending that we seek? The final outcome may be impossible to predict, but ultimately we have the choice to make it happen. We can shrug, cross our fingers, and hope that everything somehow works out for us—or we can fight for a future no less than we deserve. We can begin our journey forward with our head lowered in helpless defeat or with the torch of human dignity held proudly in our hand. The decision is ours. The moment is now.

When someone you love dies, everything in life seems to lose value. Your world jolts suddenly into perspective—everything that mattered before now looks utterly frivolous and inconsequential. The past becomes a movie reel of memories with a character who is eerily misplaced, and the future, which had previously beckoned with plans of family vacations, birthdays, graduations, and weddings, now looms emptily and purposeless. You realize that all you looked forward to will now be faced alone.

      Trivial matters that you overlooked before become painful reminders of the person who once was. When you go to a restaurant, the hostess asks how many in your party and you automatically reply seven and then have to recalculate—six. When you call their house, their voice asks you to please leave a message on the answering machine. When you see the sweater they always wore, eat their favorite foods, and remember their little idiosyncrasies, you are plunged back into your misery.

      Cruelly, the world goes on despite this gaping void as all around you people go along happily with their lives. Some will wake up and lie, cheat deceive, steal, and inflict pain on others. Why are they still alive? you question. Why are they here occupying space when someone so beloved, so kind, so innocent, so worthy is not? Suddenly you see the world through a critical, acerbic lens that magnifies all of life’s injustices.

      Being alone with your thoughts sinks you into depression, so you keep yourself surrounded with people and occupied with errands, books, homework—anything to not think of the death that lurks nonetheless in the back of your mind. And then there comes a lull in your day, and you can run from it no longer—the pain inevitably catches up to you. The terrible truth that they are gone and will never come back sets in.

      If you had loved them less, it would not hurt so much now. But you know you would not, if given the chance to change the past, sacrifice one iota of that love to ease your suffering in the present. The reason you cry is not because they are dead, but because they made your life so beautiful, because you are so thankful that they were born and you were born and somehow your lives intersected. You realize that you are bloated with tears because you are swelling with love, which is why the sympathy cards, flowers, and care packages that arrive in the mail, so full of compassion for you and the one you lost, trigger the waterworks yet again.

      The messages inside those Hallmark sympathy cards you receive may at first sound cliché. They may make you angry as you demand how those self-proclaimed prophets can tell you that your “loved one is alive in spirit” when they obviously have never experienced the sheer devastation you feel. But with time, you will come to see that they are true. Death can cruelly cheat you of time but it cannot take away what has already happened. You will never forget the memories you shared. This is small solace, but it means that the person you loved will never really leave you. They have, in some way, influenced who you are, and so as long as you live, so will they.

      There is no cure for the sadness that comes with death. Time will lessen it, but it will never completely go away. You will always miss them, and in the future, as you take that family vacation, receive your diploma, or go off to college, you will wish that they could be there to see you. But know this: your sadness comes from a love that is profound and everlasting. In the words of Kahil Gibran, “When you are sorrowful, look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.”