The journalism school graduation was today, and I went.
Mostly because my friend Lyndsey dragged me down with her – I promised to go and keep her from jumping onto the stage and trying to keep our friends from leaving – but part of me wanted to go.
Fifteen minutes into the ceremony, when Lyndsey and I were both sniffling, we realized we were the two worst people to attend graduation together.
“I think you and I are the most overly emotive people I know,” Lyndsey said.
This was the first year that lots of people I knew were graduating. Some of these people I only knew because of classes or because they had once worked at the Alligator. Others have been part of my daily journalism existence, both on the days when I wanted to give up and go to law school and the days I was excited over a front-page story. Some of them are friends I’ve called when the going got tough, regardless of whether the toughness had anything to do with journalism.
But journalism, its frustrations and all, brought us together.
So to Andrew, Ashton, Beth, Chad, Christa, Erin, Jennifer, Joey, Kori, Liz, Michelle, Pota, Vincent and Yudi: I wish you all the best.
And if you’re actually going into journalism — well, I wish a little extra.
