Dear Class of ‘25,

We hit the jackpot four years ago. The first generation of TJ lottery students. Doubts were likely, but I’d say the odds worked pretty well. Speaking of odds, though, remember that RS1 final? The one where we all collectively realized that knowing how to calculate standard deviation wouldn’t save us from the deviation from standard? Somehow, we all survived—not just that final, but four years of TJ’s unique academic challenges.

Our class statistics tell quite the story. We’ve pulled all-nighters, conquered lab reports, and despite what the models might have predicted, all of us are heading to college this fall. The numbers don’t lie—we’ve defied the odds at every turn. People may always ridicule our class for being dumb luck, but hey, at least we have luck! 

In my room hangs a picture without a frame of two 8-balls in the shape of cherries, connected by a stem drawn in between the words FEELING and LUCKY. Everyday, that poster reminds me of how fortunate I am to be here with you all.

As we prepare to scatter across campuses across the globe, the data suggests we’ll go on to accomplish extraordinary things. Honestly, I’m a bit scared to flip to the next chapter. Uncertainty, uneasiness, and anxiety cross my mind. But if there’s one thing that TJ has taught us, it’s that taking those calculated risks is how we grow. I think that’s also the beauty in statistics; nothing is truly impossible. So, I’ll say that all we can do is go all in on black and never look back. After all, what were the odds we’d all end up here together?

“Against all odds” 

– Pardis Sabeti

Akul Dixit, Class Council

I remember coming back from spring break to witness one Daphnia still alive in a little container on the windowsill.

This was almost four years ago. So much anticipation, so much planning, and so much hope for our freshman year IBET project—yet it still fell short.

Four years later and post-TJ Star, I haven’t seen much change. We still complete projects that were inevitably going to go wrong. In fact, many things in my four years haven’t changed. Some of us still get lost in the halls. We still consistently make national news for the same reason. And of course, I still procrastinate on every task (even writing this).

But this begs the question: should we have changed?

Sure, many of us continue to cherish an early-morning Celsius or proudly self-diagnose insomnia. However, if I search for change, it seems so obvious. Each failure leads to improvement, each laugh eases the stress, and each answer leads to another question.

We haven’t changed as people—we’ve simply grown through the chaos that was TJ.

I can’t begin to count how many failed fundraisers we had for our class, or how many group chats have fallen into the void of Messenger. But I’ve also lost count of how many moments reminded me that failure wasn’t the end; it was simply part of the eventful educational experience.

TJ didn’t reinvent us—it refined us.
And as we head into whatever’s next, I think we’re not so different from that old Daphnia project: a little chaos, a lot of trial and error, yet somehow, we’re still alive, still swimming, and still learning.

Dr. Bonitatibus, Former Principal

Hi, Class of 2025!

It’s an honor to reflect on why you are such a historic and remarkable part of TJ’s legacy.

You are the first class to complete your foundational math and science skills virtually during middle school. You then leapt into TJ in the fall of 2021 as if you were jumping into the deep end without having completed your swimming lessons. Not surprisingly, you paddled hard and finished every lap.

You’re also the first class admitted under the most debated admissions changes in TJ’s history. Amid public scrutiny, your courage and dignity stood indomitable. You earned your way to TJ.

And you’re the only TJ class to be the basis of a winning case before the Supreme Court of the United States. Your resilience helped shape a national precedent that has positively impacted countless other students throughout our country.

Through every challenge, I’ve proudly stood beside you, helping build a culture of belonging and celebrating your academic excellence. From the beginning, you brought a fresh vibe. You didn’t try to rinse and repeat past classes—you showed up as your best, authentic selves.

So what’s one of my favorite memories? The fall 2023 HoCo pep rally! Things got a little spicy with the Class of 2024, and your spirit was unforgettable. I remember thinking back to when I first met you as a freshman class and told you, “You’re in it to win it.” That day, you proved it.

I’m deeply proud of each and every one of you. Always remember: you are more than a GPA. And with the GPS you’ve developed at TJ, your journey ahead is full of light and meaning.

Best wishes, Class of 2025—and from me, a heartfelt Bonitati-bye!

Ms. Hamrick, Retiring Teacher

When I first joined the TJ community in 2017, I was genuinely awestruck—not just by the caliber of educators around me, but by the students as well. It was unlike any place I’d taught before, and honestly, I felt a bit unsure of where I fit in. I wrestled with imposter syndrome. I often wondered: Should I be here? What can a teacher like me offer students like these? How could I possibly compare to the incredible educators around me?

That first year brought me a powerful realization: students don’t need perfection from their teachers—they need connection, authenticity, care, and a safe space. That realization helped me begin to relax and embrace the unique way I show up as a teacher. There is no single “right” way to teach—what matters is that it’s honest, and that connection is just as important as content.

I’ve learned that impactful teaching comes in many forms. Whether through storytelling or thoughtful discussion, what matters most is that I invest in teaching as I hope my students invest in learning.

Over the years, I’ve had the privilege of witnessing students at their most brilliant—and their most human. I’ve seen how the pressures of achievement can weigh heavily. That’s why my proudest contribution isn’t about scores or college acceptances, but about helping students find balance. Whether through lessons or simple conversations, I’ve always tried to offer perspective: You’re more than your scores, and your well-being isn’t a luxury—it’s essential.

Although I’m looking forward to retiring, I’ll deeply miss the students and colleagues who have made this experience so rewarding.

To my students: Thank you for being open, for engaging with the material, and for allowing me to share my passions with you—sometimes in the quirkiest of ways! The privilege of working with the brightest students in the country has been an honor. As you head into this next chapter of your lives, remember to be kind to yourselves. Embrace excellence, but not at the expense of your peace. Chase success, but also joy. And never underestimate the power of a good night’s sleep and a deep breath.

I encourage you to stay curious, seek connection, and lead with heart. That’s where the magic and real growth thrive.

To the underclassmen: Know that the educators here at TJ are unequivocally the best in the nation! Take advantage of that; respect and appreciate their love of teaching and their subject-matter expertise.

To my colleagues: I know I don’t get out of my room much, but I hope you know my respect and admiration for you runs deep. The privilege of being a teacher alongside you goes beyond what I can express in this letter.

Thank you all for allowing me to be part of your journey—I will always treasure the lessons we have learned together.

tjMEDIA seniors staff says goodbye

Hannah Liu & Grace Sharma, tjTODAY

Gallery • 5 Photos

Hannah Liu

Cover of the tjTODAY October Issue: Maxed out.

It’s been an honor to be your source of all things news, photos, and controversial takes these past four years. We’ve poured more time into the website and the magazine than most of our classes combined—hopefully, that dedication has come through.

More than anything, it’s been a joy to grow alongside you, to tell your stories, and to amplify voices that need to be heard.

That said, it hasn’t always been easy. We went from a staff of over 30 to virtually none. Two years ago, we considered cutting the magazine entirely just to stay afloat. But we didn’t. We weathered the late nights, the looming deadlines, the pressure—and somehow came out with a CSPA Gold Crown and an NSPA Pacemaker finalist.

But we didn’t lose sleep over awards. We did it because your stories mattered and because your voices deserved a platform. And we hope we did them justice.

Thank you to the teachers who let us sneak into your classes for last-minute photo ops and the students who said yes to interviews even when you had every reason to say no. Thank you to the administration for trusting us to do our jobs, and to Ms. Hampton, for letting us run wild with every crazy idea and bold angle we wanted to try.

To the rest of TJ Media—it’s been a gift to spend nearly every day together. You’ve already done so much, and we know you’ll carry this legacy forward in incredible ways.

And finally, to the Jefferson Class of 2025: Don’t let the world tell you who you are. Write your own stories. We know you’ll do amazing things.

Kavya Kuttuva & Rabia Chadha, Teknos

Teknos is a neologism—a word TJ students coined in the spring of 1989. We like to believe it has three parts to its definition.

First: the exploration of the unknown.
As seniors, we spent our last few months of high school creating spread designs, editing scientific articles, and joining late-night group calls so Teknos could make the final submission deadline.

We quickly learned that leading a journal isn’t just about selecting well-written articles or papers—it’s about inspiring scientific curiosity among the members of our community. Whether it’s exploring the potential of biomimicry in structural design or evaluating matcha as a dental cure, we are so proud of our staff and student authors for creating the vibrant pieces featured in our journal.

Second: the pursuit of discovery.
This year, we watched our staff go beyond textbook science, exploring and writing about the novel discoveries in today’s scientific climate. We worked on developing a narrative through every article, helping Teknos become a journal where scientific writing feels alive.

Third: the sharing of knowledge.
As you turn the pages of Teknos this year, we hope you are able to see the beauty of science that we have carefully worked to reflect throughout every article and paper. Whether it’s reading machine learning research or simply admiring the cover art, we hope you can witness how science intersects the human experience in every way possible.

Aben Battachan, tjTV

In 8th grade, I developed an interest in learning how to edit video game montages. If you know anything about the editing community, you’ll recognize some of my favorite groups to watch: Odyssey, Iliad, and Relative Minds, along with many others.

Sadly, my creative mind was much too underdeveloped to ever reach the level of my idols. But it was sufficient for tjTV! I joined as a freshman to make some use out of the skill, and doing so was one of the best decisions I made at TJ.

I think of every new feature we make as a show-and-tell: learning and writing about a topic and then creating a story to share with the rest of my class. From Latin art to NACLO, there is so much I’ve been able to see within TJ through tjTV.

I wouldn’t have been able to do much without help, though. Ms. Harris and Ms. Hampton have only shown me kindness and support and always provide helpful feedback.

To my upperclassmen throughout the years—Alex, Sahishnu, Dhanbee, Valerie, and Carl—you guys guided me to become the video journalist I am today. I’ll forever be grateful for it.

Leah Zhang, Sophia Lin, Hannah Liu, Jimi Vance, Mahima Athipatla, Threshold

A threshold is a beginning or transition, a horizon upon a new chapter we write together daily.

Standing before this dawn, it is courage that propels every one of us forward—a bravery to put pen to paper or to let colors run wild on blank canvases. It is in this choice that we cross the threshold and allow our stories to be told.

As TJ’s literature and arts magazine, Threshold is the literal boundary where endless creativity crosses into bold expression. For the past few years, we’ve been fortunate to watch so many individuals take this leap, witnessing their creativity take life in the form of music, art, poetry, and more.

This year’s themes were “Wonderland” and “Through the Looking Glass”—themes that we hoped would provoke self-reflection and introspection. Our stories and art delved into the crazy, the surreal, and the strange—a journey that reflected much of our own four years at TJ.

We saw tales of relentless perseverance, charming whimsies, and fantastical heroism.

We debated endlessly over hidden meanings in poetry. We let ourselves be touched by sentimentality that bled through short stories. We laughed at veiled jokes and marveled at the wonderful creativity of musical and artistic pieces.

Your stories and art endlessly inspire us, and we are awed at the wonder we see in every crevice of the TJ community. We hope that our magazine inspires many more to record their experiences through paper and canvas.

As we exit the wonderland that TJ has brought us, we look forward to embarking down new paths, taking with us the magic we’ve conjured up together.

We hope you remember the colors of your youth, the childlike wonder of your earliest hopes and dreams, and dive headfirst into every adventure.

Chase that white rabbit.

To all those who have words waiting to be said or images to conjure, we urge you to let your ideas run wild. Waste your time thinking. And when the time comes, we hope you too will unabashedly leap down that rabbit hole.

Senior Superlatives