Go forth, but stop and watch the flames

By Lily McMenemy, Assistant Opinion Editor

I have a confession to make: senior Griffin staff, if you’re reading this, please don’t be mad. As opinion layout editor, I put up the Mission 100 Days articles each week and I am ashamed to say I have not read any of them. 

It is not because I do not care – in fact, it is quite the opposite. I skip the last episode of every TV show, because I hate when things end. For the past year, the seniors on this staff have represented an essence of community and belonging which has formed a deeply anchored love for Canisius and the life I have here. 

Many of them I don’t know very well, and I truly wish I had more time to learn. But what I do know is that in the limited time I’ve known them, they have all welcomed me with extreme kindness and acceptance. So I didn’t read their 100 Days. Because I didn’t want to face the reality that the last episode had started for you. 

The enemy of my avoidant tendencies, Editor-In-Chief Mikayla Boyd, sat me down to read hers on Wednesday. That triggered a 30-minute sobbing sesh/crashout in a “calming room” in the library. This was the moment I had no choice but to accept that this chapter is coming to a close. David Foster Wallace said once, “Everything I’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it,” and I found myself finally letting up my claws. Now that the weight is off my chest, I’m ready to embrace it and be grateful that there are so many things I love enough to be this sad about. 

In college, things seem to fizzle out and slip through your fingers between the bustle of finals and moving. Everyone suddenly gets too busy to see one another, and the things you’ve worked on all year silently close, without space to grieve their end. Then it’s done, and you’re left wondering where it went.

Over the weekend, I did a Montante doubleheader with the CrescenDONT's concert and the dance team showcase (FANTASTIC job, everyone), and I thought about how surreal it all was. Some people graduating and transferring, and every single person there was a thousand more things than just what they were on that stage for. Most people will not have a concert or showcase for all that they’ve done this year, and even the one didn’t feel like enough recognition for those there. 

You all have spent months sitting through hours of classes, tapping your keyboards thousands of times and spending priceless laughs. You made a friend, maybe even lost a few, but you grew. You ran clubs and you cried from stress or joy. You lost sleep and lost games, won awards or won the day. You chatted to strangers in the hall and stayed up late in deep discussion with someone you love. Maybe you got a job, or got sick or got through it. You made memories and made it work. Or, you just hung in there, and that was more than enough. The life you’ve led this past year deserves celebration, even if it’s not formal, and even if it doesn’t feel like anything special. Whatever it is, you’ve done it. You are changed. I am proud of you.