Written by students, for students.
The official newspaper of Crescent Valley High School.
Hi Raiders. I hope you’re all doing well and that you’ve found ways to take care of yourselves while at home. These are unique times, in more ways than one, and the emotions they evoke are also myriad. While we’re living through history, it’s important that the stories we hear and that we tell ourselves are not merely echoes of each other. It’s a time to hear other people’s perspectives, to lean into vulnerability and community, and to ensure that real change occurs beyond the time of protest. Remember how long ago it was that Australia faced raging fire and America seemed on the brink of war with Iran? Someday, the stories you read on the news may feel as distant as those events. But we can’t afford to forget this.
The fights we are fighting today－ending systemic racism and police brutality, ending a deadly global pandemic－are marathons, not sprints. Make sure that you are taking care of yourself and take a proverbial drink of water every few miles: consider taking a day off social media, practice good self care, and reach out to others when you need support.
On a less serious note, the Crier has had an amazing year, in no small part to your continued readership. We are so very grateful that you continue to pick up our papers and check our website, and we hope that you get it as much out of it as we do. If you have suggestions for us for next year, you can always email us at email@example.com, leave comments on our website, or contact me (the editor) directly.
As the editor of the Crier, I wish you all a happy summer, and hope to continue reporting for you in the fall. Thank you for reading, and have a wonderful summer break.
- Kate Voltz, the editor of the Crescent Crier
Cleanliness and cheap soap and fresh, cool salty air - that, to me, is the smell of a beach house. Not the beach house, where we go to visit my grandma every summer, with its big crowds and smell of wine. Just a beach house, the kind with faded sea-green paint and only three rooms, with driftwood and seashells for decorations, with a door that opens right onto the sandy shore. The kind where you hear waves instead of traffic and seagulls’ cries instead of people, and there’s nobody else for miles around. And when you walk outside you don’t put on shoes, not even sandals, because you can’t get sand between your toes as well with shoes on. And you run down the dunes, tripping and sliding, to the edge of the water, and you jump over the waves as they break on the shore and when one catches you by surprise and soaks you, you just laugh. Maybe you bring a special friend and you laugh together. Then you sit down and drip wet sand through your fingers and make fairy castles out of it for a while, and you dig moats in front of it to protect it. And when night finally falls you don’t look to the west, because sunsets are overrated; you look east into the growing twilight to see the moon rise and the stars come out, and you make a wish before you head home.
- Valerie Delos-Reyes