Hello and goodbye fellow Day Creek students (*sheds a tear*). I know, I know there’s still one more week of school, but as an eighth-grader, that last week or so is a chance for me to savor middle school. Ridiculous, right? I have to leave a legacy, before I am ultimately drowned out in a sea of high-schoolers, so that these middle school years don’t go to waste. As a matter of fact, I pushed stubborn Tyler to write one last editorial so that people wouldn’t remember him as “the editor who hasn’t written an editorial since October.” But, what will my legacy be…

I have plenty of ideas. Of course, my grades and my test scores could mark my experience here. And, my year-long position as editor-in-chief for the Howl is definitely something. But, I still feel something is missing. At the eighth-grade promotion ceremony, I have the honor of giving a speech along with two other “coyote-hearted” students. This speech could reach out to many people in the audience, but how long would they remember its impact?

Let’s back up and start with the definition of “legacy.” According to dictionary.com, a legacy is “anything handed down from the past, as from an ancestor or predecessor.” Okay, so a legacy is something I can hand down to students after me. Or rather, anything I can hand down to students after me. Everything I have done in my three years is my legacy. Mind blown.

Maybe, students after me, including my teeny-tiny, sixth-grade brother (just kidding, he’s almost as tall as me!), will notice my past relationships and memories with my teachers. As my brother enters seventh and eighth grade, he will meet the teachers I have had. After finding out his last name, they will probably realize who his sister is. In elementary school, my brother realized that no matter what, if he runs into my teachers, they will talk about me (luckily not in a bad way) until he wants to scream at them. Not that he’s the kind of person who would. Some of you are familiar with his situation. Despite his sibling struggles, I’m glad that my teachers think kindly of me, and I want them to know that I will always remember them fondly as well.

I have experienced so much within my three short, yet long, years here. Now that I figured out that everything I did and do is part of a legacy (talk about no pressure…), this article will probably take up a small section of my middle school legacy, too. Ooh, I better check for spelling mistakes!