A senior column, as so eloquently described by Derek Medlin in this same issue last year, is the difficult chance to condense four years of college and many sleepless, incredible nights at campus’ 90-year-old newspaper into 500 words; it’s impossible and I won’t even attempt the feat.
I can’t impart what I’ve learned in a book, no less this column. But I can do what I’ve always tried to do for you, tell a story and give you something to think about while you wait to take your exam. Relax for a second, and let me explain to you what it is I’ve done behind the scenes and what I wish I’d done more of this past year.
One of the perks of being Viewpoint Editor — for better, or for worse — is that you get to see every column a day or two before it comes out in print — before it’s edited on this page. The period is intended as a time for reflection on the editor’s part and hopefully serves as a quality boost for the content of the 155 annual issues.
Most of the time it was a grueling task and reaffirmed the impossibility of effectively taking other people’s work and converting it into newspaper print; but sometimes it gave me a chance to gleam some ideas before I sat to do my own writing.
When I read Paul McCauley’s column Sunday, I was awarded a great opportunity to do just that; I started to think about what sort of message I wanted to convey with this final column at Technician. Paul is right; you don’t want to hear me bash another inefficient, redundant campus organization or administrative group.
So I’ll also take my final column on an uncharacteristic bearing and give you one final treatise, one thing I wish I had done more of:
Love. Everyday. Tell your friends. Like Paul, tell your parents. Tell your girlfriend, boyfriend and everyone else who touches your life.
The truth of the matter is that this column — as cynical and sadistic as it was at times — was only possible because there were a lot of people who loved me, even when I didn’t know how to love myself.
I usually don’t wear my emotions on my sleeve, but it would be amiss for my final creative work at N.C. State to ignore the valuable relationships that molded my college experience and changed the person I am.
My staff this year — the first half as Viewpoint Editor and the second as an Executive Editor — made the toil bearable when I was failing tests, flat-out broke and working through the night. They became my friends — really, my second family — and I love them for it. Likewise, I have to give a special, loving thank you to my fellow senior editors this past semester; I love all of you for the time we’ve spent together.
The administrators on this campus and the bureaucrats in training at Student Government were the brunt of a lot of the anger in this column. But despite how often I called them godless heathens, I grew to truly cherish my relationship with a lot of them.
This paper is a watchdog for the work those groups do, but part of that careful observation also revealed a lot of dedicated people who love this University as much as I do; for that, if nothing else, I love them and will always challenge them to do what is best for students.
And last, but not least, I have to thank my beautiful girlfriend and family who made this year worth it. Their unwavering support — even when I didn’t deserve it — enabled me to write today.
There isn’t enough room left in this column for everything I wish I could say, so I’ll just steal a quip from some real artists and remind you that “in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.” Good bye friends, I love you.
