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  • The Griffin

A Year At Canisius

By Elizabeth Shingler, Assistant Layout Editor


A year at Canisius and I feel…fine? Is this the time for sappy and bittersweet memories? Tears that plop on a page as one reads? I suppose those are not for me.


I guess I’ll let my dad be correct once: I love it here. I hope that he got his celebration out of the way, not a moment more.


Campus is great. I have friends at arm's length. That is absolutely wild from my neck of the woods. Usually, if you wanted to see someone you would have to drive, call or meet up at school. So having the ability to hang out with friends brings me tears of joy.


I think that Canisius is fine. It feels like a house. Not quite home… yet. More like moving in and trying to find things out of boxes. I am at the “We are still ordering takeaway, and the plates, napkins and silverware are in boxes,” phase here. I have met the neighbors and made friends, but I am not fully ready to call Canisius home yet.


I do know that it is the people that make a place home. Not the house itself. And the people I have met have been phenomenal. I have known these people for less than a full year, and I fully trust them.


I wish to dedicate something to some of the phenomenal people I have surrounded myself with. I hope my simple offering of words can cover what eternal gratitude I have for them.

To my next semester roommate, who has enlisted me to “exterminate” all the bugs, I cannot wait. May our laughter and combined chaos reign supreme.


To a specific floor mate, may summer be as brief as winter break, and just remember that we will meet again. Also never forget, I am always a text away.


To my neighbor, go Bills! I will miss running into you, and thanks for being great. Hopefully we can hang out more next semester.


To a treasured friend, I cannot wait to catch up and hopefully meet inside your flat. I am, also, absolutely beaming at the possibility of meeting your cat.


To my newfound family that leaves soon, whether that be transfer or graduate, I will miss you. I am exceptionally grateful to have met you, and I wish you well.


To The Griffin, the ones that inspire me to use my pen when my voice fails me, I love you. You fill my Thursdays and force me to be confident in my abilities. May the only flood we get in the office be a flood of Readers’ Rite submissions.


To my parents, sorry dearies, but I suppose I will leave my heart here now. I hear Buffalo has that effect on people.


To my pets, my darlings, I wish that we could be together. It appears, however far we may be, I will think of you as you will think of me: always. Augi I love when you come to visit, and so do my friends. Gingy, I wish you could visit more, I miss you the most.


To the reader, who may have no connection to me or any correspondence outside of a simple hello, thank you for reading. And I hope today is the start of a strong streak of good luck and prosperity.


I recognize that this is only year one, and I have at least three more to go. It is just in the madness that surrounds finals and the wrapping up of the semester, I find calm in reflecting on how much I have gained. It would be too easy to lump everything together, but it would be unfair to simply say that. There are so many memories from this year that deserve their own recognition. People, just like memories, deserve their own recognition. And again dear reader, thank you for your support and for you as a person.


Yours wholeheartedly, sincerely [and with rizz],

Elizabeth Shingler.


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