Four years ago, if you told me that my college years would’ve been like this, I would’ve looked at you like you had 10 heads.
And no, I’m not talking about a certain virus that shall not be named (entirely).
I’m alluding to all of the things that I’ve accomplished and all of the hurdles I’ve jumped to become the person I am today.
I came to Fredonia on a whim as a confused high school graduate from Queens. My grades were subpar at best during high school.
I was mentally damaged from attending four years of pre-conservatory dance training: anxiety, depression, disordered eating, bullying, low self esteem and self worth, perfectionism, comparison, unhealthy competition, teachers who didn’t believe in me — you name it, I had it going on.
Coming to Fredonia with nothing but my laptop and a new major (journalism) that I hardly knew anything about was difficult beyond belief.
I’ll never forget the first news article I had to write for Mike Igoe’s foundations in journalism class that required an interview. I freaked out; my social anxiety got the best of me and I probably got one decent quote out of the guy I talked to.
Now, I’m graduating with honors and I’m the editor in chief of this very quaint, yet amazing newspaper that will be like my baby forever. Oh, how the times have changed.
Being the editor in chief of The Leader has been interesting, to say the least.
At times, I felt like I was leading a watchdog organization; but most times, it was blissful knowing that I had such a talented, dedicated team behind me. I was able to watch myself grow as a communicator, as a journalist, as a woman — all through leadership.
As messed up as this academic year was, the one thing that I learned is to be ready and accepting of change.
During my first three years at Fredonia, I watched the upperclassmen I knew dread leaving college and going into the “real world.” I was prepared to be the exact same way.
Despite everything, I was optimistic for my senior year. Things went south quickly, however.
I didn’t feel safe or valued in the university I once called home, I didn’t have the same craving for knowledge I once had and I came to the simple realization that not everyone is going to have as good a heart as me.
As a result of all that, I spent this spring semester at home in NYC (a remote editor in chief, imagine that) …
It’s been hard and I’m still not done with school at this point in time, but I like to think I got through it.
And I certainly didn’t get through it alone; thank you to my parents, my sister, Stephanie, all of my amazing professors and friends old and new, James Mead, my managing editor and my editorial partner in crime, Alyssa Bump, my amazing friend and upcoming editor in chief (good luck, girl!) and of course, Elmer Ploetz, who has acted as a mentor (and a therapist, sometimes) through it all.
My point is that sure, it’s going to be at least slightly bittersweet to say goodbye to Fredonia forever (capstone taco Thursday, I’m talking about you).
But I’m ready to move on.
I’m ready for new opportunities and experiences, new like minded people I have yet to meet and new, bigger ways to pursue my passion: journalism. I mean, I’m from the greatest city in the world, for crying out loud!
And this is coming from the same girl who left in the middle of class to cry on the phone with her mom that her college years were ruined when the governor announced schools will close.
Of course I get sad sometimes that things didn’t go as planned. But in the grand scheme of things, I am very lucky.
Dedicated healthcare workers, like my aunt and my cousin, saw the worst of this virus unfold in front of their faces. So many people struggled financially to debilitating degrees. Some, unfortunately, did not make it out of this pandemic alive.
But I’m here, I’m fully vaccinated and I’m feeling as strong and confident as ever.
I’m ready to make the world a better place by helping out little by little, spreading truth through the power of my words.