There has been a space in this newspaper set aside for my thoughts and beliefs for the past three years now. I’ve been writing columns that no one seems to agree with.

I’ve received more letters and complaints than I care to remember. I’ve gotten angry looks while walking across campus. I’ve alienated myself from my fellow students I used to call friends.

I’ve written more than 80 opinion pieces for this fine publication and I don’t regret a single one. My main goal through writing was to encourage debate and get people on campus talking.

Sometimes it’s been late on production night and the paper needed a column. I’d fill it with lighthearted topics like my take on the cats vs. dogs debate or what my favorite state is (it’s Florida).

Maybe something I wrote really made you reconsider something. Maybe it changed your life. Or maybe you just got upset and talked with your friends about how stupid the newspaper was. Either way, hardly anyone ever wrote in to the paper, so it was tough to gauge how much people cared about what I had to say or the problems facing this campus.

And it’s sad, but you all disappoint me.

I’ve written about several hard-hitting issues on campus, such as tuition hikes and legislative action, while also writing harmless pieces later blown out of proportion (see “Blasting your music isn’t cool to do” or “Politicians have duty to keep campaign promises”).

And it’s the latter pieces that have caught the most flack, not tuition hikes or what exactly is going on in the government.

Students on this campus seem to be stuck in their own little bubble. Unless it’s happening within five feet of them, they don’t care. Frankly, it seems there’s an attitude that says, “Everyone sucks but me.”

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not perfect. I’ve made my share of mistakes. In fact, I actually quit the journalism program during my freshman year. I’ve been in four car accidents, coupled with a speeding ticket and another ticket for an expired registration.

I took a funny picture of a high school teacher who was napping because he felt sick. He died later in the month. Believe me. I’m far from perfect.

But it’s not hard to write in. I’ve written about topics that students should care about. But that chance is over. Those who did write in wrote about meaningless things that were blown out of proportion.

And now, with this being my final column of my collegiate career, I have one thing left to say to all those people. To anyone who ever wrote in to the paper to complain. To anyone who ever tore me apart in a comment post on the website. To anyone who muttered to a friend about what a terrible person I was. All I have to say is this.

Thank you.

In the world of journalism, columnists get ripped every time they write something. It doesn’t matter the point that is trying to be made; someone will still disagree with it. People will stick to their guns through thick and thin.

Maybe you were one of the few who wrote in and tried to tear me down. Maybe you said something to make me feel bad. Unfortunately, you failed. Every person who tried to pierce my skin with vulgar words or harsh stares only made me tougher. You helped me become a better writer.

And so I leave with this: I hate the Colts more than anything. The pessimistic entourage rules. And Dave Matthews Band still sucks.

Gov. Mitch Daniels will address the 2010 Franklin College graduating class on May 22 and that’s something students should take pride in.

It is not every day that Franklin College gets a chance to bring the sitting governor to speak at the college. There is a chance the sitting governor has never spoken at a Franklin commencement ceremony.

He’s a good choice to speak because he fits the college’s ideals: leadership, excellence and service. He has served in several leadership roles, including one as a vice president of Eli Lilly. He has also taken the hard steps that are sometimes required in order to run the state in the most effective way.

Daniels is a very smart man, too. He got his undergraduate degree from Princeton University before getting his law degree from Georgetown University.

Regardless of the students’ political affiliation, Daniels will provide an enlightening speech for the soon-to-be-graduates.

The pick for a commencement speaker does leave a few question marks, though.
Daniels announced reductions of $300 million in K-12 spending last December. These cuts – which would remain in effect until June 2011 – have been declared a “last resort” by Daniels.

But one of Franklin College’s most popular departments is education. Daniels surely will not have many friends among those students.

The topic of Daniels’ speech is unknown at this time, but it remains questionable if he will even address the economic situation for education majors.

Once Daniels won his second election for governor, he promised voters that would be the last political office he held. As the months have progressed, speculation has come up that Daniels wants to make a run for the presidency in 2012.

Daniels has made many public appearances and discussed national issues such as health care and the current deficit.

Franklin is bringing a speaker with a potential to run for the presidency to deliver the commencement address to graduates ranging from 21- to 23-year-olds, who are a part of a key voting demographic. Could Daniels be trying to sway some of the youth vote for a presidential bid?

As previously mentioned, the topic of Daniels’ speech is unknown. If he does address national issues or Washington politics at the ceremony, it could be considered a certainty he would run.

Despite the questionable portions of the commencement selection, the pick of Daniels is one the college will not regret.

It has been my job in this space to give my opinion. I’ve enjoyed writing every column, but my last one will be a reflection of these last four years.

I’ve had the opportunity to learn from some great professors in every field of study here at Franklin. However, I’ve spent most of my time in Shirk with John, Hank, Joel, Ray, Dennis and Ann. I’ve been taught both in and out of the classroom by these fine people. I couldn’t imagine Franklin College without them.

What I’d like to focus on are John Krull’s words of wisdom he gave in an early journalism class and then again before the senior competency exam. It goes, “Life is tough, and then you die.” That statement can be applied to many situations in college and I feel like I’ve lived some of them.

I’ve been in classes taught by Joel and Hank where we were asked if we were aware of some current event. Several times I had no idea what it was about because I was watching a baseball game or hanging out with friends the night before. It’s the worst when they would make eye contact and all you can do is shake your head in embarrassment.

“Life is tough, and then you die.”

I’ve scrambled to read right before Ray’s classes knowing well in advance that there would be a quiz. I mean there’s nearly always a quiz! It was rough receiving those quizzes back.

“Life is tough, and then you die.”

I’ve been in Shirk well past my bedtime at least twice a week consistently. It’s hard work keeping up with your journalistic duty to meet deadlines. Sometimes I would feel like I was sleepwalking through classes the following day.

“Life is tough, and then you die.”

I’ve done the photo assignment for Dennis where we had to find the letters of our name in nature. I spent hours looking for a “G.” Thanks for the name mom and dad.

“Life is tough, and then you die.”

 I’ve risked not graduating by neglecting to study for the first round of the senior competency exam.

“Life is tough, and then you die.”

I’ve learned a lot from the journalism professors and a lot about myself throughout these titanic struggles. These situations help me grow as a student and journalist. I now feel comfortable taking John’s credo and flipping it a little to fit me.

“Life is tough, and so am I.”
 

You may be sick of reading it, but it would be a colossal injustice to John Krull, Hank Nuwer, Dennis Cripe, Joel Cramer and Ann Barton if I did not use this opportunity to express my most sincere appreciation for helping to mold me into the journalist and person I am today.

You have all had an immense impact on me during the last four years and I thank you for that.

It was something John said, though, that caused me to consider my last four years and smile. He said that with all the projects, studying and resume-boosting internships, he fears students fail to enjoy what should be four years of semi-irresponsibility and fun. (He quickly added that I do not exactly feed into his fright).

This brought a quick grin because many who know me give me grief about my care-free attitude toward various classes, assignments and life in general, as well as my knack for being late to anything and everything.

Have I occasionally walked outside my room for class, felt raindrops and returned to bed to sleep away the gloom? Sure. Have I pulled an all-nighter doing absolutely nothing with good friends instead of slaving away over homework? I suppose. Have I taken friends up on invites to Greenwood in place of a class? Probably. And have I called off work to go sledding with friends and professors? Most definitely.

Do I regret any of that? Hell no.

If you have never skipped more than the allotted misses for a class, you’re missing out. If you’ve never taken a trip to Toys ‘R’ Us on a random weeknight with a car filled with friends, you’re doing something wrong. (If you’re too cool to be seen having fun in a toy store, insert something a bit more hard core — maybe an ultimate fighting clothing shop or tattoo parlor).

Of course I’m not saying you should completely ignore your academic responsibilities and waste away four years of tuition on such jackassary – all the time. But remember to have a good time while you’re here. And as we all know – even though professors may deny it – some courses in the liberal arts curriculum simply aren’t that important. Take advantage.

You’re probably wondering who I am to be dishing out advice; I would be. Maybe you could say I’m nobody. But you could also say I’m someone who has honestly enjoyed four successful years here.

So in the words of one of my favorite philosophers, Ferris Bueller, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

It’s time to move on.

Unfortunately for me (and I assume you) this will be the last thing I ever write for The Franklin. It’s difficult to fit all I want to say into one 550-word newspaper column, but since I’ve already used 44 of those words, I had better get on with it.

I’ve spent all four years of my college career working for The Franklin, the last two of those spent trying to get a multimedia program off the ground. At best, it slightly hovers.

But I’m proud of the work done by my staff and I know that with time it will become what it needs to be.

That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy my time in the newsroom. Fun in the newsroom is inevitable; it’s the polar opposite of going to a Taylor Swift concert.

Richard Gootee (another polar opposite of T-swift … but for a different reason) and I would break the tension of a late night by beating the crap out of each other. The time when I smashed a plastic jack-o’-lantern trick or treat bucket on his face will always be a fond memory.

There’s the time when Isaac Daniel and I made raincoats out of recycled paper bins, or the psychological damage I’ve caused to Julie Crothers by insisting that she is ball parking 300 pounds after a diet. Not to mention the time we used the basement as a NERF fort.

Not all of my time was spent in the Shirk Hall basement creating havoc or causing friends to develop an eating disorder. There was the occasional time spent in the classroom. From time to time I could be found studying.

OK, that’s a total lie, but I have learned, and pushed my boundaries.

I now know that I can inspire the perfect amount of shock and uncomfortable laughter by making a dumpster baby joke. I can make a friend smile just by saying, “You don’t know me,” or “mandate.”

I know that if the Cubs lose by more than three runs, you shouldn’t make eye contact with Gootee for at least an hour. I can solicit free Sodexo food, I can skip class and get away with it and I can even protest equal pay for women, and recycling without being a total jerk.

What I’m trying to say is that in my own way, I’ve mastered Franklin College. I would bet that most other graduating seniors feel the same way. It’s taken four years, a lot of mistakes along the way and many late night trips to Steak n’ Shake, but I have finally things figured out.

I’ve got quite the comfort zone here at Franklin. And while comfort zones are … well, comforting, they are the worst things for 22-year-olds. They will completely paralyze you.

A comfort zone can keep us from challenging ourselves or from trying new experiences. I’m young, stupid and idealistic. I want to experience everything. And there’s no better time than the present.

Yes, the safety, friendship and love that come from being here on this campus will be missed. But staying here would force me to become stagnant. So, as I said before, it’s time to move on. Live big my friends.

P.S. – John Krull, you’ve been like a little brother to me.

This marks the end of another Senior Week, and though the events were well-planned and well-attended, it leaves more to be desired.

Senior Week is an annual event when those who have stuck with the Franklin College experience get rewarded for their hard work. The event is sponsored by the Student Foundation. The week is packed with events for the seniors on campus to enjoy.

Senior Week began Monday with a wine tasting from Mallow Run Winery, which is located in Whiteland.

Tuesday gave seniors a chance to get some free pizza from The Willard.

Wednesday was the chance for seniors to play some free games of bowling at Hi-Way Lanes.

Thursday took Franklin up to Indianapolis to face Hanover in baseball at Victory Field.
Friday wraps up Senior Week with the Corey Smith concert in Spurlock.

First of all, kudos to the Student Foundation for its work in getting these events planned and coordinated on campus.

Events like this are important not only in appreciating the seniors, but also in keeping students interested in the campus and staying around.

The first three events were good. They were all unique events that caught the interest of seniors in a tough economic time.

However, the last two events, the baseball game at Victory Field and the Corey Smith concert, were both open to students of any age and the public.

Though the two events were worthwhile, it seems as though the seniors could have gotten two more days to themselves.

Furthermore, these events could be done with greater frequency. The events are very popular, and they give seniors a time to interact.

There can be more opportunities to get people involved in the campus.

These can definitely be spread out throughout the school year. They don’t necessarily have to be added at the end of the year.

By increasing the number of these events, not only can we get more students to stay on campus during the weekend, but maybe we can improve student attendance at these and other events on campus, as well.

There were two major debates held on campus over the past week, and despite the charade students put online about caring, the truth is they don’t.

The major event of the week was the Republican Senate Debate, which was hosted by the Pulliam School of Journalism. The five candidates came to campus for a 90-minute debate, and according to the reservation list, only 40 students graced them with their presence.

The candidates addressed issues that are important for students, and yet only a handful came.
The passage of the health care reform prompted student outcries on Facebook and declarations of socialism.

It wouldn’t be a stretch to think that these same students would want to support a debate where political leaders are discussing these issues and may one day have a say in those same issues students are commenting on. It seems students want to prove their legitimacy as adults by parading their political opinions on their Facebooks, yet won’t take action to support these opinions.

Then the Student Congress debate rolled around later in the evening. That event had slightly better attendance with 50 students. Eight of the nine candidates for executive board have groups or events supporting their election. These groups have an average of 90 people.

There seems to be a discrepancy in what students on campus say they’ll support and how many people actually attend events to show their support. Student Congress affects everyone. They are the ones who allocate all the money organizations receive. If students don’t come hear the candidates debate, how do they know they aren’t blindly voting for a candidate who doesn’t have their interest at heart?

There may have been conflicts in students’ schedules, but Franklin is a campus of a little over 1,000 students. This means only four percent of the school was represented. This seems a dismal percentage and a loss to those who did not attend. Students missed the opportunity to learn what real politics look like, not just the kind they read on the Internet.

Students need to start acting on their political beliefs and get involved in actual discussions and debates on campus. It’s not enough to comment on a Facebook account where no one holds you accountable.

I’ve been one of the privileged on this campus to be able to speak to you almost weekly through my writing in The Franklin.

It’s not easy, but being on staff has taught me more about life and the college than simply going to classes ever could.

I’ve taken most of this year to focus on getting a job and working at internships, but this will be my final goodbye to The Franklin readers.

Over the past four years, we’ve grown together, and I can’t thank any of you enough for witnessing my failures as well as my triumphs, and supporting me through both of them.

I’ve heard faculty refer to the “Franklin College family” more often than I ever felt was necessary, but by senior year, I’ve come to realize that it really isn’t just a cheesy marketing slogan.

Here at the college, we have the crazy siblings and parent figures and an entire network of people that we live, eat and play with. Without any one of us, campus would be different.

My place in that family has typically been to correct grammar in the newsroom. If you’ve seen a grammatical error anytime in my freshman through junior year, chances are good I was one of the people who should have caught it.

On the other hand, though, you’ll just have to trust me that many more mistakes were caught.

When I first came to the newsroom, I had zero experience in journalism. I came to Franklin expecting to copy edit for a book publishing company.

From the very first article I wrote for The Franklin, though, (a poorly-written review of “Hollywoodland”), I knew that I had found my place at Franklin. I became a Shirk-dweller.

The basement of Shirk isn’t the prettiest place on campus. It’s home to frustration, a few tears, some good friends and a recycling bin that Steve Dickerson convinced most people not to use because recycling paper uses too much energy.

For three years, I joined a handful of students in disregarding homework and sleep until the paper was put to bed Thursday morning.

The years I spent there were good ones. It’s not an easy process, and the stress alone can make you gain weight, much less the pizza coupled with a sleepless night once a week.

But every single printed word, and every hour spent cleaning up stories has been worth it.

I count every story written – from an ill-fated report on the iPod to the story of the students who were involved in the Elsey couch burning of 2008 – as a learning experience.

Sometimes I came through, sometimes I should have just fallen on my own pen.

But through it all, I’ve grown, mostly thanks to some great people. Of course, the journalists at Franklin wouldn’t be the same without the leadership of John, Hank, Dennis, Cindy, Joel, Ray and Ann.

I’ve logged quite a few hours in almost every one of their offices, and I fully believe that has helped me to become the person I am today.

 A good leader needs to know how to prioritize when put into difficult situations. So when it comes to the Student Congress elections, there’s one candidate who stands out.

As the days move closer and closer to the Republican Senate primary vote, political tempers are running high and all the hot-button issues are getting thrown around.

But there is a movement afoot. And it’s gathering steam quickly.

It’s called the tea party movement. And it seems to conjure up interesting images.

Browse the Internet for a few minutes and you’ll find plenty of people likening tea party activists to monsters, lunatics and morons.

But the tea party is none of these. It’s actually just a group composed of mostly sane, normal people who are fed up with government.

Richard Behney, a Republican candidate for the U.S. Senate, is a plumber from Fishers and a tea party activist.

( Just a side note, go to the U.S. Senate debate on Monday. If you need a reason, see Brian Howey’s column on page 3.)

Notice how Behney is a plumber? That’s pretty normal. But there’s more. Not only is Behney a tea party activist, he’s the one who brought the party to Indianapolis. I had the chance to meet him last week and he shared the story we me. He went up to Chicago for a large tea party rally. He and his family were among the first volunteers to show up at the rally.

They were approached by Eric Odom, the event’s organizer, to bring the tea party to In- diana. That simple request has turned into the Tax Day Tea Party, which has been a huge success for the past two years.

A normal guy. Bringing the tea party to Indiana.

According to a poll recently released by The New York Times, 18 percent of Americans consider themselves activists of the tea party. The story went on to say that they are mostly Republicans.

Behney disagrees, saying there is a common bond that holds tea party activists together. “It’s not a party thing at all,” Behney said.

“Just folks who have a feeling in their gut that there’s something wrong with our country and the direction it’s headed. It truly is a grass-roots movement.”

And they’re mostly normal.

One look at Behney’s background will show how normal he is:

• Born in Dayton, Ohio.

• Went to college; dropped out to pursue a music career.

• Started two businesses from his home.

Nothing in the list about time in a mental institution or working as a mad scientist’s assistant. He’s a fairly normal guy.

If you’ve been paying attention so far, you’ve noticed words like “mostly” and “fairly.” Despite how normal Behney is, he, and all other tea party activists, are prone to slip-ups.

While addressing Second Amendment Patriots in Evansville this past winter, Behney called for new faces in politics during 2010. If he didn’t see new faces, he was going to “[clean] my guns and [get] ready for a big show.”

Oops.

In the story by The New York Times, several tea party advocates refer to themselves as “angry.” We all say things in anger we don’t mean.

Behney later said he meant the comment as a path where America could go if we aren’t careful.

So he made a mistake. Overall, he’s still above the normal marker on my scale. And so are the other tea party activists.

It’s easy to simply judge the tea party group based on what we see or hear. But it’s not until you get to know them that you realize they’re just like us.