It’s funny how in retrospect, I become increasingly thankful for the two professors who used to frustrate me the most.
I’ve had a pretty easy time skating through the majority of my classes here, and while the slacker part of me has appreciated that, that also means the majority of my classes haven’t done much to shape me as a journalist.
When I’m faced with a challenge, I will tackle it with determination and almost always come out on the other side in much better shape than I was at the beginning. When I don’t feel challenged, I’ll give the minimum effort I can afford while still getting a passing grade. Throughout my college career, I’ve become almost as good at figuring where I can cut corners as I have at anything else.
There were two professors, however, who never gave me any slack. I spent many a night feeling defeated or stressed or simply angry at the amount and quality of work demanded from me by those professors. My self esteem took many trips down the toilet when I was doing work for them, and I had more than one existential crisis about whether I should even bother writing so much as a thank-you note ever again.
But now, as graduation looms, I can’t write or edit anything without hearing their voices in my head, asking whether each sentence is clear and relevant to the rest of the piece, whether every word is significant, whether there are any gaps in the story. I know that I’m very good at what I do, but I also know that I owe almost all the credit to those professors.
Carlos Delgado and Mark Landsbaum, thank you for making me the writer and editor I am today.