According to the rock’s last count, I’ll be graduating in 21 days. It hasn’t been updated in a little while, but I’m going to hold onto those spare days, even if they are imaginary.
Freshmen year at Roanoke College, I jumped right into a biology major. I had enjoyed sciences in high school and I was ready to do that forever. I still am a bio major, kind of. I’m probably not going to pick up a reagent ever again.
My career with the Brackety-Ack also started my freshman year when one of my friends didn’t want to write their article, so I agreed to. (If you were curious, it was an opinion piece about how Fintel should be open 24 hours the week before finals. P.S. Fintel, you should just be open 24 hours, always.)
The staff members, many of which I’d met and had become friends with already, insisted I join. It’s always been a paper desperate for new talent. I was trained in editing and layout in just one week, then took over a staff position for one of the graduating seniors.
I should note, I’m pretty frantically trying to make sure someone’s trained to fill my position, apparently no one that currently writes for the paper cares about sports. Shameless plug- if you’re interested in sports writing contact Rachel Miles, it pays!
As I got back into writing for the Brackety-Ack, I couldn’t deny my love for writing. In the summer between freshman and sophomore year, I decided to pick up a creative writing major on top of biology. I believed I could handle it, after all sophomore does mean wise fool.
It was probably one of the best choices I made at RC. Drs. Almeder, Hanstedt, and Schultz were so encouraging, even when I didn’t have classes with them. (Spoiler) Hanstedt knows I have no idea what I’m doing with my life so forwards emails to me for potential jobs or graduate schools.
I hate to glaze over a year of my life, but junior year I did nothing of consequence. I was on hiatuses from the Brackety-Ack for first semester because of… “creative differences.” I took a class with the professor that taught my INQ 110, Dr. Bucher, because I thought I deserved a better grade than the one he gave me in 110. (He’s on my Top 5 Professors at RC list.) I also worked at Macado’s. Let’s forget that.
Once I got back to school, I knew there was an impending doom of graduation. When I started the year, I thought I’d be applying to grad schools. I quickly realized that wasn’t going to happen until next year. (You should have heard the tone of my mom’s voice when I told her).
This semester’s saving grace was an internship at the Virginia Museum of Natural History that has been my practical experience in science writing. Of course, that doesn’t mean that I can successfully secure a job, which has yet to happen.
As Shakespeare said, “Parting is such sweet sorrow.” As ready as I am to be done with the stress of school and the newspaper, it is hard to go. But then again, John Green may be right “It is so hard to leave—until you leave. And then it is the easiest goddamned thing in the world.”
I guess I’ll find out on May 7.