wouldn’t be able to communicate right now. There would be no “I love this song,” “I need an A” or “Mom, buy some cookies.” There would be no, “You’re my best friend” and certainly no “I love you.” There would be no beginning, middle or end, and there would certainly be no Communication Arts tests about those sections of books.

As a matter of fact, there would be no C.A.

No poetry, short stories, novels, epic poems; no Homer, no Shakespeare, no John Green.

There would be no ‘us’ — the prehistoric Homo Sapiens survived to become the human race because, while the Neanderthals were literally grunting at each other, Homo Sapiens had developed a form of communication outside of that.

Without words, in any language, I wouldn’t be able to do many things I love — there would be no newspaper, no friends in yearbook, no literary magazine and no angsty seventh-grade poetry phase.

Tambien, no habria la oportunidad para hablar Español.

Ni hakuna kiswahili, hakuna luo, hakuna luya, na hakuna kikuyu.

I would not be able to tell my Daddy I love him, remind my mom why she puts up with me or occasionally remind my baby brother that he is just that — my baby brother.

But sometimes, there are no words. And this is one of those times.

This is my last issue of the newspaper. This is my last month of high school. This is my last year of childhood.

This is my last year under my parents’ roof, my last year on the unlimited JoCo Kid money plan and my last year of only thinking about homework, food and fun.

And I don’t know how I’m supposed to leave it all.

I don’t know how I’m going to not worry about Tardy Tracker or how I’m going to get by without a school that has seen me for more hours than my own home.

I don’t know how I’m going to say goodbye, and in some ways I don’t want to.

But at the same time, I know I’m ready.

I’m ready for long college nights because Jason Peres and Mark Klopfenstein taught me the importance of actually reading the textbook you are given.

I’m ready for long research papers because of the cumulative efforts of Linda Eagleton, Jennifer Balke, Britt Qualls, Ryan Mahoney, Azie Taghizadeh and Larry Hare.

Yeah, we wrote things in science classes, and yeah, it’ll be very worth it.

I know I’m ready to handle myself out in the world because principal Scott Bacon and every other adult at BV has taught me how.

I’m terrified, yes.

But I’m ready. And I’m extremely thankful that I’ve attended a school that allows me to say so.