I have a confession. I never really thought I’d get this far.

My first semester at Binghamton University was one full of anxiety. I had worked so hard to get here, so I was determined to make the most of it. Everyone had told me for months, “college is what you make of it,” and so I told myself I’d do everything and anything. I would make the most of it.

Well, that was the theory anyway.

In reality, on the day of our UFEST, I walked around aimlessly searching for, well, something. Someone from the Pipe Dream table saw me approaching, gave me the spiel and told me that the general interest meeting would be later that week. They had me write my name down on a list of people interested and told me they hoped to see me there. I never went to that GIM.

In my spring semester of junior year, I had no intention of going to the GIM either.

I had gone to a meeting for another club that now escapes me and mentioned that I liked to write to someone there. He told me that he wrote for Pipe Dream and that I would be a good fit. I, desperate to get out of it, told him the GIM date had already passed and thought that was the end of it. Instead, he told me they would be holding a second one. I had no interest in going, but I let him talk, took a photo of the GIM poster he showed me and tried to walk away. He insisted on taking me there, perhaps knowing that I wouldn’t go on my own accord, which is how I ended up sitting awkwardly next to him the next day on the couch while the editor-in-chief explained Pipe Dream’s mission.

I signed up for a few sections, never answered the few interest forms I was sent, but for some strange reason that still surprises me, I dragged myself to a news section meeting. I took an article, panicked, and then said to myself, “Well, Ash, there are 18,000 students here, you’ll never see them again. It’s fine to just never go back, they’ll never know.” (1)

Yeah, that didn’t happen.

In hindsight, ghosting a newspaper was never going to work. Pipe Dream, and I mean this, is seemingly everywhere. Nonetheless, with my foolproof plan foiled, a staff member was assigned to help me, AKA babysit me, for my first article. She texted me before the event, coached me on what to say and even went with me to the event while I was hyperventilating in my room about whether I could do this. Tresa, one of the assistant news editors, guided me even when I messed up, and despite not knowing her well, looking back, she might’ve changed my life.

Throughout high school and early on in college, I had told myself that I knew what I wanted in life. I had told everyone and anyone that would listen that I would be a lawyer ever since I could remember. My mother had dreamed of law school before sacrificing her dreams to raise me, so naturally, I would do what she couldn’t.

Everyone around me had always said that I would be a great lawyer. “You’re so smart, you always know everything,” “you always stand by your opinion,” “you love arguing.” Granted, this might have been a way to tell a seven-year-old that she was a bitch nicely, but still. The expectation was there.

Now the closer I get to graduating, the more confused I get. Eighteen-year-old Ashley had it all figured out; 22-year-old Ashley doesn’t even know what she’s having for dinner (actually, that’s a lie. I make a meal plan a month in advance because I’m a planner, but you get the point.) I have spent my whole life planning for this moment, the day I graduate from college, but I never really thought about what I would do after. The hazy plan in mind had always been law school, but where? When? Why? I don’t know anymore. And I’ve recently realized that that’s ok. It’s natural.

For someone who has always planned everything in advance and has always sought to know everything and anything, it’s been both uncomfortable and liberating to force myself to confront the truth. I had forced myself to follow a strict life plan, ignoring everything else that would stand in the way, and I hadn’t really stopped to consider what I wanted. Right now, that’s still a work in progress. I’m still figuring out what I want to do.

But what I do know is that I’m grateful that I joined Pipe Dream. Spending two days a week writing, editing and gossiping may not be the way I expected to spend my days in college, but I’m grateful for it. And as I’ve grown in the news section, I have always been in awe seeing the dedication and determination everyone has for this paper. Our commitment to, as Nuala puts it, “boots on the ground journalism,” has been an inspiration. From covering petty student association drama to real stories that affect the lives of the people around us.

Pipe Dream showed me there was so much more I could do. I am no activist or politician, but I am a writer.

Now, as I say a final goodbye, some brief thanks to the iconic people who’ve been here for my rants and hot takes.

To Rachel, Annie and Sam: I am so, so very proud of you guys. You are all amazing writers, and above that, you guys are an incredible group of people. News can be a difficult section sometimes, but there is no better team to lead it. I may be gone, but know I will always be cheering you on from afar.

To Joseph and Alyssa: Thank you for being such amazing writers this year! Joseph, thank you for leading our section as editor. I’ll miss both your funny stories and laughing around the table with you. There are no words I can use to fully capture the amazing people you are. I can’t believe the year is over, and I hope we keep in touch. I’ll miss you so much!

To Vera: I know Grace and Joseph will have already told you a million times that they wish you the best, but I’ll add my name to the chorus of well-wishers. You’re one of the kindest people I know, your empathy is never-ending and you will do amazing things for this paper; I know it. Don’t forget to have fun!

To Nuala: I’m gonna miss our rants, hot takes and random conversations around that small table, because really, “why would a man be there!” Our kiki-ing sessions are some of my favorite memories. Your iconic quotes never fail to make me laugh, and honestly, write a book, girlie! Thank you for making Pipe Dream such a great experience. I know you’ll do great as news editor, and I can’t wait to see all you’ll do. I believe in you!

To my friends and family: Thank you for putting up with my rants about this paper, for listening to me and just being here. I know I don’t say it as often as I should, but thank you, and I love you. To my parents specifically, thank you for all you’ve done for me. You’ve done the best you could, and I know this. I hope I make you proud.

To Pipe Dream, past, present and future: Thank you for everything you have done and will do for this paper. There wouldn’t have been a Pipe Dream for me to join if it weren’t for all your hard work, effort and sacrifice.

So, while I figure all this out, I hope I find my path. The universe has given me so many opportunities — I just have to take a chance.

Ashley Carranza, a senior majoring in political science, is a Pipe Dream news intern.