Letter from the Editor: Lifelong students never truly leave us

By Courtney Warren

As teachers, it’s not uncommon to have students who leave an impression—but every so often, someone truly special walks into your life and leaves a permanent mark. Reagan is that student for me.

From the moment she entered my classroom in the seventh grade, I knew she was different. Not just bright—brilliant. Not just motivated—driven. Being her teacher wasn’t easy, but it was one of the most rewarding challenges I’ve ever taken on. Even in middle school, her writing already outshined that of many high schoolers I’d taught. She pushed me to be better—to dig deeper for more rigorous material, to raise my standards, and to constantly search for content that would keep her curious and inspired. She kept me on my toes in the best possible way.

Then came her freshman year. I’ll never forget the day she walked back into my classroom—her face said everything, before she even spoke. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she told me she would be transferring to another school after the first nine weeks. We hugged. We cried. And, even though my heart ached, I knew deep down that this was the right path for her. She was going to grow, to thrive, and I couldn’t stand in the way of that.

What I didn’t know was that God had plans for me, too.

I finished out that school year, and, in an unexpected twist, ended up accepting a job at her new school—the same one she’d transferred to. Suddenly, we were reunited, and, from the very first day back on campus together, it felt like we’d never missed a beat.

When I became the yearbook advisor, Reagan was one of the first students to join my staff. There was no question—she was destined to lead it. From the start, we both knew that, one day, she would be editor. And now, that day has come.

Last weekend, I watched her walk across the graduation stage, surrounded by friends, family, and so much love. She’s no longer the little girl who sat in my classroom, devouring writing prompts and asking the tough questions. She’s grown into a poised, capable, compassionate young woman—ready to take on the world. She’s heading to Ole Miss to major in sports journalism, and I could not be more proud of her.

Creating her senior yearbook alongside her was an absolute gift. It felt like everything had come full circle.

Reagan is the kind of student every teacher dreams of having. I could give her a job—any job—and never worry about it again, because I knew it would be done thoroughly, thoughtfully, and with excellence. She is dependable, sharp, and an incredible leader.

But, beyond the classroom, she holds a special place in my heart. Reagan is the only person I’ve ever trusted to babysit Berit. That’s how much I trust her—not just as a student, but as a person. I knew my daughter was always in good hands with Reagan, and that kind of trust is priceless.

There are students who come and go. And then there are students like Reagan—the ones who stay with you forever. So, congratulations to the class of 2025. You are going to do big things. And Reagan, know that I’m ready to tell everyone “I told you she’d do it.”