The Crusader Online

April 17, 2009
Vol. 50 No. 21

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Student desires a graceful departure

It seems to be a recent tradition of the graduating Crusader staff members to write a fond farewell article to validate that yes, they have written for the newspaper for the last four years and need a sense that it all meant something. I hate to stoop to such clich├Ęd traditions, writing out my obituary. If I typed it out, it would have to read, "He is survived by his editorial staff and the Mac computers."
I don't want to be like some seniors I have known who try to assure themselves that they made a difference in the lives of every person with whom they've been in contact. I have known graduates who hover about people in an organization or club, reminding us how great their contributions have been. They regale us with stories of all they've taught us and the wisdom passed down, vital information like how check out a book from the library.
I don't want to be a senior who has everything figured out. You know, those people who have a good job or a graduate school waiting for them. They'll have their own apartment and get married. After twenty-odd years of life being an enigma, the difficulties will be brushed aside, all questions will have answers, and choices we make will lack consequences.
I don't want to be someone's crutch. I have a friend, a freshman, who vocalizes her lament that another senior and I will soon be leaving her life. She will be without friends, she professes. To that I say nonsense. We may be important people in her life now, but once new classes begin in late August, our absence will not be felt. New people will replace us in her life, just like we were replacements to others. To borrow a line from one of my favorite childhood movies, "Stand by Me," "It happens sometimes. Friends come in and out of our lives like busboys in a restaurant."
I don't want to be remembered once I graduate. That is not to say that I don't want to keep in contact with certain friends in the future. I don't want to expect that every person I ever met on campus would be thrilled to see me if I returned to visit or be under the delusion that every professor will hold a special place in their memory for me in the sea of students they've taught over the years.
I feel comfortable being another picture in the yearbook, another name in the archives.

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