An opinion I wrote as a goodbye to our student newspaper
I received several comments (and hugs lol) from people who read this. It was published in the latest issue of The Poly Post (released today), which was the final "regular" issue we will release this year (we still have one issue left that is geared toward incoming freshmen and transfer students). One line in particular seems to get to people even though I meant it more as a bit of self-deprecating humor rather than a play at sympathy. Who am I to turn down free hugs, though?
Sunday was definitely a weird day. Working on the paper week after week is hard work, and very taxing, but at the same time, I enjoy it more than any class I have taken in college. It is incredibly fulfilling to see people reading the paper around school and then be able to think to myself, "I wrote that story," or "I took that picture," or "I did that layout," or even some combination of the three, as has been the case at various points during the year lol.
More than that, however, I have enjoyed working with my fellow editors so much. Just like with any other group, there have been bad times, and it took me a while to get used to a couple of people, but the support they have given me, and the support I have been able to give back to them, means the world to me. There have been several instances this year where I thought I would crack with all the pressure of school, finding an internship, writing stories, putting together the paper and everything else, but I could always count on someone on staff to put a smile on my face or tell me about their troubles, which would inspire me to work harder.
While Sunday was not our final work day, there was certainly a note of finality to it. I mean, Jesus, I don't want to turn into a fucking big ball of sap, but I am choking up just thinking about it. I saw everyone today, and I will see most of them tomorrow and the day after and so on, but there is still that bit of melancholy hanging in the air. I felt it when I was writing that article. After I finished writing, our editor-in-chief asked me if I was unhappy with the article; I was not. I could just feel the ending coming, and it was sad to think about - is sad to think about.
I really do wish I could keep working on this paper for the rest of my life. I'm never going to have this level of freedom again, I'm probably never going to be allowed to have this much fun again, and I doubt I'll be a part of a group as tight-knit as this year's editing corps. You've all seen the evidence - we goofed around a lot. But we're college kids. I liked that feeling around the office. No matter how serious our work was, we could still find the time to go outside and play touch football or dress up like idiots and throw dodgeballs at other college students who dressed up like idiots.
... I forgot where I was going with this. I guess I'll just end this by saying I wish I didn't have stupid ass projects to do so that I could spend more time with the people and place I care about. Fuck, school really fucking blows sometimes a lot of the time every waking moment.
