This is not a From the Desk.
That’s just a fact. I’m not a staff member, so I don’t have to write one. All I have to do is read these beautifully written, sometimes silly and sometimes sad, articles written by some of the most talented writers I’ve known. I edit these every week, and I’m always scared of making any edits — even if I need to follow AP Style protocol — because even deleting an extra comma feels like I’m taking away someone’s voice.
It’s funny, because despite reading dozens of From the Desks, I still don’t know how to write one. And why would I need to? Well, after spending the last two years on this silly little newspaper, it wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t write something. I’m not the best with words, at least when it comes to speaking them. But maybe if I write them, I could say how I really feel. Let me tell you a little story:
Back in April, I went to Six Flags Great Adventure with my friends, and one of them wanted to ride the infamous Kingda Ka. If you don’t know, Kingda Ka is the world’s tallest roller coaster, standing at 456 feet. To reach the top, you’re launched “from 0 to 128 miles per hour in a jaw-dropping 3.5 seconds.” Then, you’re sent into a complete free fall down the monstrous spiral. The ride only lasts about 25 seconds, if even, but nothing can prepare you for it.
Now, I’m okay with roller coasters, and I’ve been on my share of thrill rides in the past. But when I saw that ominous, monstrous green arc standing tall as I walked through the parking lot, I thought to myself, “No way am I ever going on that.” However, my friend promised me it would be fun, and I knew she really wanted to go on it. I couldn’t just say no.
I had this huge knot in my stomach, thinking I just made the biggest mistake of my life. Once the coaster launched, I screamed the whole way, my head whacking on the sides all the way to the top until we went into the freefall. And yes, it was over in an instant, the biggest, fastest rush of adrenaline in my life. I couldn’t believe I actually did it. My friend was so proud of me, and I hinted that maybe we could go on again. A few hours later, we ended our time at the park with another Kingda Ka ride, and this time, I think I was the one who was more excited.
So why did I use all that space just to talk about a rollercoaster? Well, in several ways, being a part of The Fordham Ram was like that experience. I know it sounds cheesy, but hear me out.
I feel like throughout my life I’ve always been scared, whether that’s about making new friends, studying for a test or writing my senior thesis. That feeling only amplified when I came to college. I graduated from a middle school class of seven students and a high school class of 34, give or take (yes, you read those numbers right). My small hometown of Groton, Mass. has a population of 11,000. So just imagine my anxiety about going to a college with almost 10,000 undergraduates in a city of approximately eight million, plus minimal interaction during the COVID-19 pandemic.
My freshman year was rough, and I didn’t think I could meet anyone who would ever want to be my friend because of how shy, reserved and nervous I was. Eventually, though, I found friends who cared about me, who saw past the nervousness, and things got better.
Then I joined The Fordham Ram during the fall semester of my sophomore year as a copy editor, but, just like I was during freshman year, I was quiet, nervous and intimidated. I never talked during meetings, and by winter break, I told myself I’d never go back. But after some encouragement from a Volume 104 and 105 staff member (thanks, Nicole), I decided to go back about halfway through the spring semester. And then, to my surprise, another staff member asked if I wanted to become an executive copy editor and help on production nights (thanks, Michael), so I figured I’d take the plunge and try to make some new friends.
I’ll admit, it took me a while to put myself out there. I’d often sit quietly on Tuesday nights, overthinking about what I could say and listening to the witty banter or silly inside jokes that I found really endearing. It wasn’t because I didn’t like being there; on the contrary, production night was a highlight of my week. But again, I’ve been a nervous person all my life, and I didn’t think that was going to change.
But once I opened up more, once I started participating in those silly jokes that I didn’t understand at first, I wasn’t afraid anymore. It was like I launched myself into one of the greatest experiences of my life. I’ve laughed, I’ve ripped my hair out trying to figure out the million AP Style rules that I still sometimes struggle with, I’ve reactivated my “Hamilton” phase, I won a bowling match…I could go on and on.
And yet, just like my time on Kingda Ka, one of the most thrilling experiences ever, it was like my time here at the Ram was done in an instant. I came up with this poorly thought-out metaphor back in the spring, so I told myself I’d hold on to the fall, hoping I could slow down time. But I couldn’t slow down the 25 seconds on Kingda Ka, and I can’t do that with the Ram, either. It’s all slipping away, and soon I’ll only have the chaotic yet fond memories of B-52.
So why am I writing this fake From the Desk? Well, I think it’s a message to all of you amazing people of Volume 105, and to me, that you shouldn’t be afraid. When you see something you want to do, like ride the world’s tallest roller coaster, or see something incredible you want to be a part of, like the Ram, then do it. Most of us are seniors, and we’re going into this scary world where we’ll have no idea what we’re doing. It’s okay to be afraid sometimes, obviously, but never underestimate yourselves or your limits. Do the things that scare you, and even if you regret them after…hey, at least you did it. And I’m proud of you.
If you don’t believe me, then take this advice from one of my favorite “Stranger Things” quotes: “[Life’s] moving, always moving, whether you like it or not. And yeah, sometimes it’s painful. Sometimes it’s sad. And sometimes, it’s surprising. Happy….Make mistakes, learn from ‘em. When life hurts you, because it will, remember the hurt. The hurt is good. It means you’re out of that cave.”
Again, this is not a From the Desk — maybe it’s a From the Table.
Nora Leach, FCRH ’24, is an English and American studies major from Groton, Mass.
