The amount of times I’ve attempted to write this column is thoroughly embarrassing. I’m not great at goodbyes — I suck at them.
That’s what this column feels like: a lengthy goodbye that has taunted me for days.
I read a bunch of other graduation columns to try and spark the inspiration that has eluded me each time I’ve tried to write this.
I’ve come to the conclusion that I could write about several topics.
Like how I once had a roommate who would steal my food every time I went home (I’m still not sure what that was even about).
A roommate who pretended she had cancer. (No, I’m not kidding.)
My experience with the disability center whose intentions I believe were in the right place but couldn’t help me in the way I needed.
Or how the pandemic caused me to move back home and wake up every day this week to my brother making dinosaur noises while playing his video game. (Trust me, I know he’s weird.)
However, that’s all a bit much for me, so I’ll just talk about why I decided to become a journalism major instead.
There’s no great story behind it. I didn’t have a million journals; I wasn’t on the school paper or a part of the yearbook club.
I grew up loving books, and I suppose that’s where it all started.
Once I finished a book, if I didn’t own the sequel, I’d make one of my own. It wasn’t very good, and didn’t make much sense, but it didn’t matter.
My parents thought the stories were great and always told me to keep writing because they didn’t want my stories to end.
As I grew older, the travel and discovery channels were always on at my house.
I would watch people like Anthony Bourdain and Andrew Zimmern travel around the globe, eat weird food and talk to interesting people.
I thought to myself, “I can totally do that. I’ve moved around a lot. I’ll eat weird stuff, and I’ll write about it.”
People always told me I was a great writer, so I decided, why not make a living off of it and do the one thing I had been complimented on multiple times throughout school?
So, starting at Weber State, I declared my major in multimedia journalism and began my journey.
My journey was pretty much the exact opposite of what I had planned, and it always kept me on my toes.
Now, I’m a month out from graduating and pretty sure I’m not on “Punk’d.” The question remains: “What exactly do I plan to do once I graduate?”
I’ve been asked this multiple times, and I don’t really have an answer.
I wish I could say the childhood dream of being a travel journalist still exists, but it doesn’t.
To tell you the truth, I don’t even know exactly what type of writer I want to be anymore, although I have been told several times by various people that writing about my disability would be a great job for me.
Maybe they’re right, and writing about my day-to-day struggles would be enlightening for others and myself.
For now, I’m content and slightly terrified of having no plan.
It lets me consider other possibilities that are different from the one I had dreamed up in my head and stuck with for so long.
My point of all of this is that changing your plan or your major multiple times is okay. Taking longer than the average four years to finish college is okay too.
Not getting your dream job (while it really sucks and crushes your soul) is okay. There will be other opportunities.
While my years at Weber may have been absolute insanity and not what I had dreamed of, I’ve realized that, plan or no plan, I’ll be fine. I’m sure of that much, at least.
So, goodbye, Weber. Thanks for the whirlwind adventure and memories. It’s been a time I’ll always remember.