Sunday, March 18, 2012

It was the best of times: A farewell from the chief

(To be published in this week's Collegian).

Tonight was my first official night off the job, as in The Collegian staff met for the weekly Sunday meeting and I wasn't there. I've still got a few lingering jobs left over, to write some new bylaws, get some contracts I've been trying to get approved for months approved, and continue to help with circulation, but otherwise, I'm done.

All year I kept thinking, I just have to make it to March, and now March is here and I wish it was September again. I definitely had a love hate relationship with my job as editor-in-chief, but I wouldn't have given it up for anything.

I knew when I weighed the decision last spring whether to become editor or not that the year was going to be a long one. I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping much, I’d be stressed, and I would struggle to keep my perfectionist tendencies under check. I didn’t expect to have as much fun as I did, learn as much from my intelligent and creative staff members as I did, or be as proud as I am.

This past year has not been the easiest, but it has been full of variety. My staff covered everything from a hurricane, an earthquake, and Obama’s visit during the first few weeks of school, to Jepson’s choice to elect another controversial leader-in-residence and the shots fired by campus police just before Winter Break.

We reported on head football coach Latrell Scott’s resignation after a second DUI, the change to the lodge attendance policy, and the arrest just a few weeks ago of offensive lineman Jimmy Speros. We introduced you to the new dean of the School of Arts and Sciences, Kathleen Skerrett, remembered the victims of 9/11 in a special section dedicated to the tenth anniversary, and reported on the recent mourning of alumnus Michael Ice.

Our aim as a paper is to provide a forum for free expression, to inform the campus community about issues that concern this community, and to teach our staffers what it means to be journalists, deadlines and all.

If there’s one thing I can say about this year is that I believe we met those goals.
I can’t thank my wonderful staffers enough for how much time they put into their jobs, their incredible teamwork, and talent. They were all willing to learn, be taught, and to teach in turn. They taught me to delegate better than anyone else has.

As editor I stressed about the little things that could go wrong and sometimes did, and worked hard to correct mistakes before we published anything. But this job taught me as no other job has before, that mistakes happen, and that there’s always next week.

While there were times when we encountered disgruntled readers, sources and former writers, I was proud of how each staffer handled themselves and their professionalism.

I’m also proud of what we were able to accomplish as staff. We met all our print deadlines, even if it meant leaving the office at 5 a.m. We reworked our management and deadline policies to try to bring you coverage in a timelier manner and worked to ensure that coverage included videos, slideshows, and stories. We also tried to streamline our paper design to make it more reader friendly.

While I didn’t necessarily meet every goal I had for the paper, I met my most important one: to have fun. While in some ways I know we all dreaded Wednesday nights, I ended up looking forward to them. I loved getting to know the people who bring you your news, features, opinions, and sports each week and I hope you enjoyed getting to read what they produced.

When asked recently if I would do anything differently, I answered no: that’s my greatest accomplishment.

Thank you to our loyal readers, our supporters, our critics, our diligent journalism advisers, and the dedicated assistance of those in the Controller’s Office. I must also mention my patient friends who waited up for me into the wee hours of the morning. You all made this year worthwhile.

And now without further ado, I turn this paper over to the entirely capable hands of Maria Rajtik and her new staff. I wish you all the best of luck. Not that you need it.

Planning for the future

(Written last January, but never posted)
I'm not sure why such a large portion of our lives is spent in preparation for the future, of seasons, years, and careers yet to come. Why do we live like this?

I'm sure some enjoy the planning stage, but is it really necessary to always be looking forward? Do I always need to be thinking two or more steps ahead?

Yes, but really, NO.

One can argue that to compete, to get ahead, one must be prepared. Others take the more "que sera, sera" approach. I try to have a mix of both, but at times I feel a pressure to be only of the first sort.

Does this ever really make anyone happy? Does anyone really care that this doesn't make anyone in our society truly content?

For now having forethought and planning far in advance is just one of those necessary evils. In the midst of planning and worrying about the future, I just have to remind myself to enjoy the present.

We all do.

Yes, we need to look forward, especially if the present is less than wonderful. But, we also need to remember that the present itself is a gift. The future is the future... it has yet to occur and may never occur.

Wouldn't we all be a little happier if we set aside a portion of each day to recognizing this tidbit?

I think so.

Saturday, January 28, 2012

Haikus and art


Lately I've been writing haikus to help concentrate and synthesize my ideas for my art. I'm finding it particularly rewarding. They may not be poetic gems, but they are thought gems. Here's the latest:

 (the first painting)
You and I alike
Together we understand
what it means to be

(second painting)
My pain and control
flows from those writhing red veins
polished stone breaks down


You see me and I
I didn't see you and they
but now I see we

Clarity and strength
emboldened now as I see
forward now we stand

You may be lost and
I may be lost too, true
But at least I am

Blue and white and brown
veins of strain crack everywhere
but shined to reflect

Silent pedestal
You do what I can't and won't
love freely given

Who knows how many of these I'll use, or if I'll use any.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Growing up, really?

I've always found solace in writing, whether it was journalistic, or for my diary or poems. I write, like I make art, to sort out the jumble of thoughts floating around in my brain. I'm certainly not unique in feeling that way, but I don't write to be unique.

Today, as I near the end of my tenure as editor-in-chief of The Collegian, as I finish up my thesis project, as I near graduation, as I near the real world, I look back towards home and I rely on these words to help me make sense of my decisions.

I just heard back from Teach for America that I have been accepted. Now I'm considering whether or not I want to commit two years of my life to the program. I'm passionate about the cause, I love teaching, and it fulfills my - do something meaningful with your life - job requirement, but I'd also be teaching in the Dallas-Fort Worth area, my hometown.

I love Texas. I love my family. I don't love stress. I don't love that I tend to internalize conflict. I don't love that I tend to be slightly masochistic in my devotion to work. I don't love that I often make things more difficult for myself than they have to be. I don't love that my family situation is difficult. But it is what it is, right?

My mom is one of the most important people in my life, but she is not the easiest to deal with. The stroke has invariably changed what our relationship was and is. A decade ago I was a child. I didn't understand what a stroke was. I didn't know what it would mean to our family. How it would be a catalyst for both positive growth and pain, both physical and emotional. Then I moved out nine years ago to live with my grandparents. I didn't know how that would help our relationships and hinder them. I didn't know then how all these things would define me. Of course I didn't, I was 13 years old.

Now I'm an adult, I guess. Part of her doesn't understand that I'm an adult. Part of me doesn't understand I'm an adult. My mom's brain is missing wires. It doesn't process information the way I process information. If I move home, I worry that she would be hurt if I didn't come over once a week even if I explained to her that I would be working and busy.

The mother-daughter relationship is one that has been explored and explained by more people than I know. Yet it is mine that I explore now. Could I in good conscious take a job in DFW and not go see her? I'm not unfeeling. I love my mother. I want to go see her, but when I step into that house I become in some ways that 13-year-old girl again. I say things I don't mean. I snap. I criticize. And I don't love myself when I do.

Over winter break I spent more time at my parents' house than I have in nine years. At this point in my life I worry what would happen if I went home. I know I need to get to know them as an adult, as the person I am now. But I'm a fixer and there is almost nothing I can fix about the perceived "faults" that I find when I go home.

Then comes, do I really want to teach right now? I know I would do a good job. I know I would probably love it. But do I really want this right now? Can I really do this right now? Am I developmentally ready?

I've always felt like I had to grow up quickly, and I did. But some of the things grown women deal with I dealt with as a 10 year old. Now I'm dealing with things I could have dealt with as a teenager. My development is not a line graph, but a scatter plot. That's perfectly fine, but sometimes I need reminding that what I'm feeling is developmentally normal. I'm normal! What a revolutionary concept!

I guess what I get hung up on is duty. What is my duty to my parents? What is my duty as a human being who wants to change the world in a positive way to do something so positive? What would my duties as a teacher be? But it's also important to remember and muse over what my duty to myself is.

I come from a family of women who give all of themselves to their family, to their friends and to their associations. I come from a line of strong-willed, stubborn and godly women. We take the commandment to serve others before ourselves very seriously, sometimes to our own detriment.

My mother told me over break, "You don't have to do everything and you don't have to take on every job." I told her I learned from the best. She said, "Yeah..."

I talked to my 72-year-old grandmother who said that was one of the hardest lessons for her to learn. She told me of her bio-feedback sessions this past year when the helper told her its good to put others first, but unless you put yourself first, how can you be there for anyone else? Revolutionary.

We've all felt guilty in the past for taking moments for ourselves, for demanding what's good for us, at least I've garnered that from our conversations. It's good to know I'm in good company.

What it comes down to is what's good for me? There are other applicants who could perhaps do a better job. Can I be there for others if I can't be there for myself? Does all this mean I should or shouldn't do it? I don't know.

This thought process, this learning process is all about growing up. I guess I might as well accept that Neverland is pretty far away and living can be an awfully big adventure.

So here's to the future. May it be what it will be. I'll let you know what I decide.

                                                                                                                                                                      

I write candidly here so that if there is someone else out there who understands, or wishes to, that they may know that they are not alone.