As you may guess, I did not do much writing as a photo editor for The Butler Collegian. By not much, I mean I wrote one article as a first-year and quickly decided I preferred to be behind a camera. As an English creative writing major, I rejected the idea of assimilating to AP Style. You all have no idea how much it kills me that I won’t be able to use an Oxford comma in this article, but I think I’ll survive for the time being. I am temporarily putting down my camera as a parting gift to this organization.
To make up for a lack of storytelling in this paper, I thought I’d sign off with a few short stories that I hold close to my heart.
In the beginning
To most, I am not a woman of many words. I’ve always been described as a shy girl, although those closest to me might disagree. This paper felt larger than me during my first Monday night meeting at The Butler Collegian. My poor coping skills kept me quiet, so I did a lot of observing instead.
I observed my mentors, such as Kobe Mosley and Lauren Gdowski, who have encouraged me in ways they may not even realize. I also observed my peers, particularly Caleb Denorme, whom I now look up to for his kindness and growth as a leader. I looked to the confidence and competence of Leah Ollie as a black girl finding her identity among white peers. Intimidation is hardly a strong enough word to describe what I felt amongst those who were far more experienced than I. Regardless, they only ever treated me as an equal.
I thought I’d have to walk home alone that night, but I carried the qualities I admired in these people with me. I absorbed the energy in that room and channeled it into all the work that came after.
A match made in heaven
When I first accepted my offer to Butler, I was under the assumption that my roommate would be one of my close high school friends. I can now say with confidence that Amaya Duncan was better off in her vet tech program, but I was terrified of sharing a space with strangers.
I spent the entirety of my formative years sharing a house with four brothers, so I can’t say I was excited to share a room with a boy. Brychan Livingston was the name on my roommate form — a name I had never encountered before. I was positive the Residence Life Portal got it wrong, but this pairing — along with my suitemates Claire Shaffer and Taylor Dietrich — turned into a friendship that will last a lifetime.
There’s no other group of people I’d rather be piled on a twin bed with while watching “Magic Mike” for the first time.
Black Student Union … typical
I was grabbing dinner with my good friend Taylor when I first met Victory Sampson four years ago. If any of you know Victory, you know he has a heart of gold and persistence that could wear down your local politician. I can’t remember what I had for dinner that night, but I do remember him leading my ultra-white suitemate and me to the Efroymson Diversity Center.
It was in that room during the first Black Student Union general body meeting that I met Monica Forbes and Kamarie Fuller-McDade.
People often assume solidarity and skin color are synonymous, so it might be hard to believe that a lasting POC friendship is difficult to find on a predominantly white campus. Black women in particular are meant to see each other as enemies, but I’ve known these two were my sisters from the very moment I met them. Our anxious attachment to one another is no one else’s business but our own.
Running up that hill
Caleb doesn’t know this, but he’s the reason my boyfriend and I started dating.
He sent Sawyer Goldwein to take his interview for the Henri Kumwenda feature over a year ago due to a mystery illness. I was unfamiliar with Sawyer before I met him at the top of the hill overlooking the Sellick Bowl. Aside from taking his editor headshot, we couldn’t have been on further ends of the Butler spectrum.
We chatted on that hill, mostly about our love for rain and my concern over his midnight walks around campus. I remember trying to catch his eye amid brief pauses and thinking, “Wow, this guy is pretty cool.” In the end, I took Henri’s headshot and left him to finish his interview, but Sawyer and I never stopped looking for excuses to chat after that.
My sports grammar boy, I hope we never get tired of chatting.
The rest, but just as important!
For the sake of time and my wanting to get this thing over with, I’m going to have to wrap this up. I have a few more thanks to give before I put my pen down permanently.
Thank you to the leadership team for being a silly bunch and helping me through hard times. I hope we can all hang out socially in the future.
Thank you to Elizabeth Stevenson for being the best co-editor a girl could ask for.
Thank you to my entire section for trusting my leadership despite my imperfections.
Thank you to my mommy for funding my expensive hobbies.
Thank you to my fellow Information Commons Desk workers for endless laughs and much-needed rant sessions.
Thank you to Natalie Lima and Michael Dahlie for encouraging my literary creativity.
Finally, I thank myself for the bravery and grace it took to finish out strong in an institution designed to work against me. I’m forever grateful for the opportunity to prove to myself that it was possible, and I’m delighted to have done it with people who have changed me for the better. I’m not very good at goodbyes, so I will leave you with a punny exit.
Time to make like a banana and split!