As my experience with The Fordham Ram comes to an end, it is hard to fully encapsulate the experience in one article. My first experience with the Ram was as a sophomore when I hesitantly sent in my first article after overthinking it. The joy I felt at seeing my article online and in print on the following Wednesday evaporated most of the nerves about my writing, and I began to look forward to weekly budgets. As a writer, it was easy to assign time passing by with the articles that I chose to write for each budget and the printed newspapers I collected from Keating Hall.
After two semesters of writing and a stack of newspapers, I happily joined the staff as the Opinion Editor. As the Opinion Editor, it was wonderful to be able to create budgets and send out emails to writers. There is a certain craft when selecting articles for a budget and an immense pride that I will always remember when helping create the first budget to send out to writers. Most importantly, it is inspiring to read the work of writers. I’ve learned so much about good writing from editing articles that were sent in. Every production night in room B-52 brings something different, but certain comforts, such as the routine work of the staff, pizza and a discussion on some cultural phenomenon, are always expected. But what is the core theme that lies behind my experience at the Ram?
Mary Oliver wrote in her poem “The Summer Day,” “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” The crux of this line is relatable to everyone in some way. It is behind every college application essay, present throughout the four years of college and something which even continues on through adulthood. From the beginning of college, I had always held the misperception that the next four years would be the highlight of my life and that everything would be figured out by the end of it. As a current senior, I laugh at my early naivety. While it is true that every year of college has gotten even better than the last with valuable new experiences, knowledge and friends, I would hesitate on calling any period of my life the highlight since I think it seems to be something subjective, which depends on your perspective.
As for having everything figured out, I would answer that the only thing I have figured out is how much uncertainty lies ahead of me. However, I would have been vehemently opposed to this answer when first beginning college. As a first-year, I stuck primarily to the straight and narrow path of science classes in my major, considering other classes not pertaining to STEM as requiring less attention. But as Robert Frost wrote in his poem “The Road Not Taken,” “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I — I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.” The tunnel vision of the fall semester of my first year dissipated quickly in the second semester as I took an English class I fell in love with. The class had reminded me about my passion for reading and writing, and I stumbled into my road less traveled. While I was still passionate about my science classes, I expanded my perspective and took on the suggestion of my professor to think about writing for the Ram.
Writing and editing for the Ram eviscerated my approach to perfectionism regarding everything. When I started out writing, I found it hard to get anything down, as I wanted to get everything right in one shot. But as I wrote more, I realized that getting something, anything down, is the vital first step and that there is no perfection in writing other than its imperfect process. When editing articles that are sent in, the final product is different from the first draft sent. As it is copy edited, has its sources checked and slightly reworded at some points to allow the message of the article shine through, the final draft of the article is the result of a dynamic process and the work of editors of a section, our amazing copy editors and the writer who sent the article in.
To put the process in other analogies, it reminds me of the synapses of the brain strengthening or forming as we try new things and become consistent at them or slotting in the final piece of a puzzle. My experience at the Ram has been a chaotic, comforting walk into unexplored woods and mindsets. As Rabindranath Tagore once wrote, “You can’t cross the sea merely by standing and staring at the water.” While I may not have all the answers now and may never will, I have learned to love the questions.
Saisha Islam, FCRH ’25, is a biology major from New York.
