Here it is. My two cents. My final words of wisdom. The great goodbye. Or, my favorite, “The Grand Send-off.”
But all that’s a lie. I’m graduating, and this process is anything but cathartic.
The trick to writing these things (that is to say, senior columns) is to suffuse them with tenderness or practical lessons — or both — without being overly sentimental or pedantic (or both).
They say college is what you make of it. That’s partly true. But what’s more important to realize is that college is also what the people around you make of it.
For me, that has meant the great people at Pipe Dream.
Sometimes our organization is so large that it’s difficult to know everyone, and I’m sorry that I don’t. But those I’ve been lucky enough to meet have challenged me to do my best work, be more open-minded, and — most of all — remain humble. I’m always amazed at the great work the people here do.
It has also meant the uncountable fascinating people who’ve had the patience, graciousness or misfortune to speak with me for the stories I’ve written for this paper. Everyone has a story to tell.
For anyone who’s ever bought a loaf of bread from Challah for Hunger, there’s a student who volunteered a few hours to knead bread for someone he or she doesn’t know to raise money to feed the hungry — and of course the challah-loving slice of the Binghamton University population.
There are taxi drivers who gave up their jobs because bringing their rides up to new quality standards would have broke the bank. There are students who, depending on your legal reasoning, are qualified for in-state tuition but were left in the dark as the University charged them the out-of-state rate. There are carnival employees, like my good friend “Chubbs,” who go unappreciated — if they’re noticed at all — as they work the rides at Spring Fling so droves of students can enjoy the luxuriant Binghamton sun.
There are plenty of other unforgettable characters who have graced the pages of this publication these past few years for all varieties of mishaps and criminal wrongdoings. There’s no need to call them out by name here, but it’s worth noting that even some of the most publicly vilified among them had the clarity of mind to speak with this organization and give their side of the story.
I’ll never understand why anyone — whether insouciant zombie hunter or convicted felon — would willingly speak to a reporter. But I’m glad so many people do. It makes this community richer to understand that behind each of the countless nameless faces we pass on campus there is a unique and cherished story.
What we must keep in mind is that we all carry stories with us. But these stories can be molded and revised. Each of us is a novelist composing our life’s one great work on the fly, and nobody knows how the stories end.
My great hope is that we never stop reading.