Avery Anderson: Journalism and its trials have helped shape who I’ve become the past four years

Journalism is my enemy.

They say keep your friends close and your enemies closer — at least I’ve done that.

Dow Tate would say that’s cliché, trite, overused. I can hear him hissing, “that’s all you could think of for your senior column?” But it’s true. My enemy is so close to me we’re practically inseparable by now.

Journalism is the Joker to my Batman and the Green Goblin to my Spider-Man — cliché again, I know. But name one superhero who isn’t somewhat defined by their enemy —  you can’t. They live for the sleepless nights and the thousand-mile-long chases that nearly destroy them. Their enemies give them a purpose, a reason. 

My Joker just so happens to be AP style and the “Coaching Writers” book shoved in the back of my closet.

Journalism may be my enemy, but it’s also my reason. It’s the reason l’m so hard on myself and the reason I know what to write on any application. It’s the reason you saw me sitting alone at that party — I was happily editing stories — and the reason I find timed English essays fun. It’s the reason I’m so close with my lovely co-editor Addie and the reason I know the 70 hardest-working kids at Shawnee Mission East.

It’s the reason I advise no one talk to my zombie-looking self every other Thursday morning after 3 A.M. PDF-ing sessions and the reason I’m definitely at the top of more than just a few underclassman hit-lists — please forgive me. It’s the reason I still have “from Harbinger” next to my now-close friends’ contacts and the reason my mom banned me from bringing my MacBook on spring break.

It’s my enemy in the sense that it’s forced me to become an entirely new person. It’s stolen more than just a few hours of my life — I say it’s the equivalent of a full-time job on top of my after-school job, activities and, of course, school. And because of this, my brain has been completely rewired to spot drop shadows and Visby with the little sleep I allow it.

As any good enemy does, mine has led me cross-country, put me face-to-face with my worst fears and has nearly broken me at some points, but I don’t mind. I’m so close with my enemy, we may just be friends. 

“Are you studying journalism next year,” people ask.

No. 

But don’t worry, I promise to find a new enemy.