The Editor's Notebook - Finale
The Editor's Notebook
My farewell gift to the graduates
Daniella De Luca
Editor in Chief
I wanted to give something to all of the graduates, but I just didn't know what it should be. I wanted to leave them with a feeling and something they could hold onto to remember me by. I wanted to encompass all feelings of joy, luck, wisdom, praise, friendship and love.
The feeling is hard to pin down. It's that sort of comfort blanket so, so good you never want to give it up. It's ratty and it's old and it smells a little funny. But it's real and tangible, and something you remember every time you leave the house.
It's your hug you've needed since the first time you got embarrassed while giving a Power Point presentation and the slides wouldn't cooperate.
It's the time you accidentally tripped going up the stairs on your way to the dining hall with everyone watching and laughing at you on the inside.
And the day that your umbrella turned inside-out with the winds so strong you could barely keep your feet on the ground.
The first snow fall and the innocence of a snowball fight started on Russell Lawn that turned into a rough and tumble game of snow football when we all really should have been studying for midterms.
Your road trip across the state that had your hearts racing as you approached a stop sign and as your friends asked, "Which way now?" you'd anticipate the unknown and want the time in the car to never end. "Piano Man" blasting on the stereo has a way of bringing people together that way.
The time you stayed up way past your bed time (5 a.m.?) working on a research paper that was doomed never to be finished from the start. When you've written yourself into a corner and you just couldn't find a way out until one simple thing, word or phrase inspired you to move in a new direction. That's what it's all about.
It was when the trees and grass turned green again, and it smelled like spring outside after dreary, ugly winter. And the fact that you didn't want to go to class but you knew you should stick it out just that little bit longer.
Your first time you went bar hopping with your friends, stayed out until last call, and had people offering to buy you drinks because it was your birthday.
That little taste of freedom you had when your family left you standing alone in your dorm room on freshman move-in day. How in an empty room not really any bigger than a one-car garage could hold so many memories in such a short matter of time.
The porch you sat on as you watched the fireworks from the Regatta festival and the people who you were with that mattered most.
It's your friends who have graduated before you and everyone who will graduate after. It's the legacy you'll leave behind, and the feeling you had when you knew this wasn't the finale to your life.
It's only the beginning.
Editor's Note: This will be Dani's last column for the 2005-2006 school year. She will be graduating in December.
My farewell gift to the graduates
Daniella De Luca
Editor in Chief
I wanted to give something to all of the graduates, but I just didn't know what it should be. I wanted to leave them with a feeling and something they could hold onto to remember me by. I wanted to encompass all feelings of joy, luck, wisdom, praise, friendship and love.
The feeling is hard to pin down. It's that sort of comfort blanket so, so good you never want to give it up. It's ratty and it's old and it smells a little funny. But it's real and tangible, and something you remember every time you leave the house.
It's your hug you've needed since the first time you got embarrassed while giving a Power Point presentation and the slides wouldn't cooperate.
It's the time you accidentally tripped going up the stairs on your way to the dining hall with everyone watching and laughing at you on the inside.
And the day that your umbrella turned inside-out with the winds so strong you could barely keep your feet on the ground.
The first snow fall and the innocence of a snowball fight started on Russell Lawn that turned into a rough and tumble game of snow football when we all really should have been studying for midterms.
Your road trip across the state that had your hearts racing as you approached a stop sign and as your friends asked, "Which way now?" you'd anticipate the unknown and want the time in the car to never end. "Piano Man" blasting on the stereo has a way of bringing people together that way.
The time you stayed up way past your bed time (5 a.m.?) working on a research paper that was doomed never to be finished from the start. When you've written yourself into a corner and you just couldn't find a way out until one simple thing, word or phrase inspired you to move in a new direction. That's what it's all about.
It was when the trees and grass turned green again, and it smelled like spring outside after dreary, ugly winter. And the fact that you didn't want to go to class but you knew you should stick it out just that little bit longer.
Your first time you went bar hopping with your friends, stayed out until last call, and had people offering to buy you drinks because it was your birthday.
That little taste of freedom you had when your family left you standing alone in your dorm room on freshman move-in day. How in an empty room not really any bigger than a one-car garage could hold so many memories in such a short matter of time.
The porch you sat on as you watched the fireworks from the Regatta festival and the people who you were with that mattered most.
It's your friends who have graduated before you and everyone who will graduate after. It's the legacy you'll leave behind, and the feeling you had when you knew this wasn't the finale to your life.
It's only the beginning.
Editor's Note: This will be Dani's last column for the 2005-2006 school year. She will be graduating in December.