Ever since I was little, I’ve always been told communication is the most important skill to have. As someone who didn’t start learning till I was five years old, and now only mediocrely know three languages, communication has always been one of the things I’ve struggled with the most.
My second year here at Oberlin, I was roped into writing for the Review by Zoë Martin del Campo, OC ’22, and Zoe Kuzbari, OC ’23. To be honest, I knew nothing about sports and I didn’t even really like them. But this leap of faith helped me with quite literally all other aspects of my life, such as writing scientific essays and managing work efficiently. Since joining the Sports section three years ago, I’ve written about topics I’ve loved, from the University of Michigan’s football scandal to pickleball rules to chess to “Sports Editors Decide Everything.” My goal these past few years was to make the Sports section more inclusive of non-Oberlin and non-athletic topics, and I think I’ve done it.
Before I leave the Review and Oberlin, I would like to give an unsolicited four points of advice from a fourth-year, in case any of you want it.
1. Don’t think too much about everything. Sometimes one week feels like summer break and the next week feels like the end of the world. It can be easy to get caught up in the future, or worry that you won’t get that A in that class. Rest assured, you have so much ahead of you that time will pass quickly. In the long run, nothing really matters. If you’re like me and tend to worry about what others think about you, there are people who aren’t going to like you no matter what you do, so don’t waste your time thinking about it. The world doesn’t give or take, so sometimes you just have to say “womp womp” and go about your life.
2. As my friend fourth-year Nick Rosa-Palermo always reminds me, “Shoot your shot like you’re Devin Booker.” One time I reached out to fourth-year Lucy Curtis, current Arts and Culture Editor, about an interview, and she never responded (see “A Love Letter,” page 10). Now she’s writing for us, so everything worked out in the end. Email that professor about joining their lab, or ask your crush out during these last few days. Apply to those internships you don’t think you’re remotely qualified for. Sometimes, you are the only person holding you back and preventing yourself from thriving in these opportunities. So what if you miss? You have so much more ahead of you. As much as I don’t like to admit it, luck and probability always play a role in everything. And as cheesy as it sounds, you never know unless you try.
3. Try new things and get out of your comfort zone. That’s how I ended up at the Review and that’s how you could, too. Take that class you have no idea about, and if you hate it, it was a learning experience, and now you know weirdly a lot about that topic. Go abroad if it is feasible and try that donkey jerky because why not. Here’s a big one you should try — be friends with people outside your circle. I think that Oberlin sometimes gets too caught up in the labels of being an athlete, co-op, Conservatory kid, etc., that students don’t see others for who they are past that label. Having friends outside your circle not only introduces you to a whole other side of campus you don’t usually see, but gives you insight on how others navigate the space and community of Oberlin. In all, if you don’t take risks or have the courage to improve yourself, you won’t learn much.
4. Go out. Your four years are going to fly by in the a blink of an eye. If you’re someone who is constantly flooded with work like me, $2 Tuesdays and Long Island Night at The Feve were the times I saw people outside of my circle or my classes. You also meet new people who you wouldn’t see on a day-to-day basis. One of the hardest truths I learned during my four years was that time doesn’t stop for anyone, and you can’t get it back, and I wished that had sunk in earlier. When posed with: “Should I lock in for another thirty minutes or go to The Feve with my friends?” the answer should always be to go to The Feve with your friends.
Thank you to my favorite Zoes for roping me into joining the Review and encouraging me to keep writing. It completely changed what communication and community meant to me. Thank you to everyone who is part of our wonderful Sports section. Thank you to the Editors-in-Chief for devoting so much of your time into running our silly little newspaper. And thank you to readers like you for reading my silly little articles.
To my parents and grandparents: Merci pour tous les sacrifices que vous avez faits et les épreuves que vous avez endurées pour que je puisse être là aujourd’hui. Con xin cảm ơn Ông Bà và Ba Mẹ đã hi sinh và trải qua nhiều sự khó khăn để cho con có được ngày hôm nay.
Lastly, as this will stay in the Oberlin archives forever, I cannot in good consciousness say goodbye to a space dedicated to telling the stories of others without speaking about what is happening in Gaza. Even in my farewell, all of our eyes should look to Rafah, and to end I quote the late Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish: “Enemies might triumph over Gaza… / They might throw it into the sea, sand, or blood. / But it will not repeat lies and say ‘Yes’ to invaders. / It will continue to explode. / It is neither death, nor suicide. It is Gaza’s way of declaring that it deserves to live.”
Take care,
Andrea
