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Tueday,
April 13, 2004 |
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Memories
last, but it’s over
Jessica
Sanders is a senior news-editorial journalism major
from San Antonio.
I think
I am getting old.
I am developing all the symptoms of senior-ness: The smell
of Ramen noodles makes me ill. A trip to Target means
groceries, not an evening’s entertainment. I see
freshmen hanging out at the Student Center and wonder
why they’re not doing their homework.
Yes, it’s sad but true. I have outgrown college.
All I want is a home of my own, where I don’t have
to load up all my possessions every May and carry them
across the state in my beloved Buick. I need a permanent
spot for my license plate collection, a residence where
I can use candles responsibly and keep a pet that doesn’t
live in a bowl. I’m ready for the next chapter of
my life.
With all this said, I can remember so clearly the day
my parents dropped me off three years ago. As a transfer
student, I felt that the hearty welcome for freshmen was
not for me. I felt misplaced. All I wanted was to go home
and return to my safe life at the University of Texas
at San Antonio. I sobbed embarrassingly as I watched my
family’s minivan disappear down University Drive.
Twisting my soggy Kleenex in my hands, I began to believe
that I had made the greatest mistake of my life.
I was wrong. I thank God every day that I came here, that
I made it through three years and that He sent me a wonderful
bunch of friends and supporters to help me out. My life
really has been changed by my time at TCU, I’ve grown
so much emotionally and spiritually that I barely remember
the brokenhearted transfer student I used to be. In my
time here, I got a fake tattoo and passed it off as real,
won a few syrup-drinking contests, sang some Motown karaoke
and took advantage of happy hour buffets. This is the
part where I say thanks to Aunt Beth, Chrystal, Betsy,
Erin, Vicky, Allison, Kelly, Sarah K., Sarah C. and many
others who made my life at TCU an adventure (and sometimes
a slapstick comedy).
I’ve gotta say that college would have been a lot
more fun if not for class, but I got a lot out of the
academic part, too. I have learned about everything from
ballet to media ethics. I became a better writer than
I ever thought possible, finished projects I never thought
would get done, and took on jobs I didn’t remotely
understand (news editor at the Skiff, for example). I
owe a hearty thanks to Dr. Horvit, Phil Record, Dr. Perry
and Dr. Ferrell (to name just a few) for making class
interesting, instead of painfully boring. I’ll be
talking about your classes for years.
In May I will walk across the stage, in a robe so purple
it would make a grape blush. My aunt is coming from Arlington,
my parents are getting their car fixed so they can drive
up from San Antonio and my grandpa is flying in from San
Diego. After the ceremony we will have a nice dinner and
haul all my stuff away. And that will be it for my college
career.
I always expected to know what I wanted to do when I graduated.
I thought I would have a secure job and a future that
was clear. Well, none of these things have come to pass.
But how many graduates can say they know how to pick out
transmission fluid or understand both Macs and PCs? How
many people do an amusingly bad Strongbad impression or
tell really lame jokes with overwhelming confidence? Yes.
For what it’s worth, I can do these things. I am
hoping that’s what it takes to be a grown-up, because
I need to get away from Ramen noodles.
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