On the tail end of things
The letter to President Bollinger published yesterday contains a moment so remarkable and extraordinary, that I’m going to repeat it for you just to make sure you don’t miss it. It was written:
Representatives and members from all of the undergraduate schools stand in solidarity with graduating seniors of the School of General Studies. Though there are four separate undergraduate schools, we stand as one undergraduate student body—celebrating the experiences and perspectives that every group and individuals add to this community. We wish to move past the animosity that has been presented toward various groups and remind students that we are here to support each other and wish that every member of our community feel included and welcomed.
Since this is an opinion post, here is my opinion of this paragraph: YES!!!!!!
To clarify further: This statement is the most serious and powerful declaration of undergraduate fellowship in the fours years I’ve been a student in Morningside Heights. This is the first time I can remember that a formal declaration has been issued at this level of solidarity from across the four undergraduate schools, and that so explicitly identifies our community of peers as one student body dedicated to celebrating, supporting, and empowering each and every CU undergrad to the benefit of all.
In this, my last ever blog post for Spectrum, there’s certainly no need for any lengthy, farewell—I’ve sort of already done that.
Instead I’ll just say again how thankful I am. Thankful for this place, this experience, this education, and for the past, present, and future it has afforded me. Thank you to my readers for putting up with me, for encouraging me, and for keeping me in line when needed.
But most of all thank you just to you: My closest friends and buddies, colleagues, peers, and professors, you who shared your mind or heart in the classroom, or a smile on college walk, or a milkshake in a booth at Tom’s, or the back of a sled flying down Low Steps in the snow. You who laughed beside me, prayed and worshiped beside me, voiced a different opinion beside me, or just sat silently beside me. You who held the heavy Diana door open, who reached out with kinds words, who shared your notes when I missed a class, and who helped me navigate the fright-filled dungeons of bureaucracy. You and everyone too who have spoken out, and inspired, and who have acted for the well-being of every other student here.
It’s my time for moving on, and I do so with hope and confidence in you my peers who will still be here next year, that the Big Ass Blue Whale might no longer stand for all things broken and cruel and unwell. Instead, maybe someday soon, the Whale will represent a sense of fellowship, mutual support, and wellness, stretching its big old self across a thriving CU community of scholars and friends.
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