“What are you doing after graduation?” It’s a question that makes me cringe every time I hear it. Recently, I’ve started reacting with a visible twitch, which leads whoever is asking to add, “Oh, should I not ask?”
“No,” I say. “You can. But I don’t have an answer.”
As April comes to a close, I’m still wondering what my next adventure will be post-graduation. Not having a plan, not having a job, not having any idea of my future after Conn used to terrify me. When I began college, I naïvely believed that I would graduate with a well-paying, sophisticated career in New York City. As I’ve grown up on this campus, I’ve learned that some expectations are never met, some goals are never achieved and plans can change more quickly than the mood at a Cro dance. But new aspirations are set, and it’s healthier to be open-minded to unexpected opportunities.
With three weeks till graduation, I’m (weirdly?) calm. Euphoric, even. Any and all possibilities exist. Any and all adventures abound.
This past Saturday was the last standard college “party” night, wrapping up the semester with a rainy, frigid Canopy dance. This weekend is Floralia, then finals, then senior week and graduation. With so few opportunities left to socialize on this campus, I spent the night locked in a classroom, writing this editorial….and twenty other assignments that slipped under the radar of Senioritis.
It’s hard to focus on the present when the future is a handful of Camel cookies, a few school-sponsored free drinks and a piece of paper away.
At the same time, I’ve noticed that in the past few weeks, my mindset has begun to shift from that of frazzled college student to independent twenty-something-year-old. It’s taken almost four years, but I finally feel 94% self-sufficient. That’s 87% in part thanks to my responsibilities as co-editor in chief of the Voice and 18% in part due to the natural process of growing up (I never took a stats class).
Running a small business, essentially, for no personal profit, writing one to two pieces per week and managing a staff of about twenty editors and writers has consumed a lot of my (and Dave’s) time. We came into the paper this year with solid goals in mind: to improve the content of articles, increase visibility, brand the Voice and make design improvements. What we’ve done over the past eight months is produce a publication that we are proud of — a publication that the campus community is also proud of. So we’ve been told by countless students, faculty, staff and administrators this semester. I trust their judgment.
I’m proud of the smart, sexy staff that has worked so hard this year to help us transition and improve, pitch ideas and cry over InDesign. Dave, in particular, has never failed to impress me with his ideas, designs and sometimes passive aggressive emails that whip the staff into shape when we hit a lag. He’s made The College Voice a better publication; he’s made me a better editor.
Taking charge next year is former Opinions editor Ayla Zuraw-Friedland. Ayla joined The College Voice the second semester of her freshman year. We bonded by posting pictures of cake via Pinterest on each other’s Facebook walls the following summer; I knew in that moment that she was a trustworthy individual.
Over the past three years, I’ve watched Ayla grow as a writer, editor and individual. We’ve blasted One Direction and danced on the old, grimy Voice couch on more than one late night in the office. We tried (and failed) to have a successful food column. We’ve grown to be close friends. She never fails to amaze me with her writing or her passion for writing. I’m impressed by her vision for the future of the Voice, and have faith that Dave and I are leaving the newspaper in good hands with her and the current underclassmen staff: Dana Sorkin, Luca Powell, Matteo Mobilio, Eleanor Hardy and Hallie Grossman.
No pressure, guys, but I think you can make the paper rock ‘n’ roll. Just don’t fall victim to the Spice Girls Pandora station. And take down that poster of Justin Bieber.
The Voice has been the most consistent part of my time at Conn. I’ve had friends come and go, classes begin and end, majors considered and reconsidered. But since I walked into the first Voice meeting of the 2010-2011 school year, I’ve been back every Monday night. Tonight will be our last meeting: tonight I close a big chapter of my life.
Dave, Julia (without whom Dave and I would be lost and the Voice in significant debt) and I have a tradition as we send the paper off to print early on Monday mornings: Dave and Julia sing along to Natasha Bedingfield’s “Unwritten,” as I grumble about their poor music taste. As we wrap up our time at the Voice, say our final goodbyes and shed some tears on our last published issue, I know that both retiring and incoming staff will be just fine. As Bedingfield and Shanfield both sing so beautifully: The rest is still unwritten.
-Mel
