Former editor bids farewell to campus
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.
