College is the best four years of your life. Right? That’s what everyone says, so that’s what I always thought. That’s why I spent all of middle school waiting to go to high school, so I could spend all of it waiting to go to college. And now, here I am, nearing the end of those four years. Were they the best four years of my life? I’m really not sure. I’m not sure of anything anymore. No one sums up my feelings on the matter better than Taylor Swift: “How can a person know everything at 18 but nothing at 22?”

Coming into college at 18, I was sure of exactly what the next four years would look like and who I would become. I had thought college would make me hard-working and thoughtful, like my brother Matt. Smart and curious, like my brother Mike. Proud and loving, like my dad. That I would be cool and fun, like my brother Steve. Successful and considerate, like my mom. I thought that going to college would solve all my problems and nothing could go wrong. Now I understand why adults always say teenagers know nothing. 

Floundering after my first year, I knew one thing for sure: I needed a change. I was dreading all my core classes, unsure of my major, and I looked back at my first year at Fordham University, realizing I hadn’t really done much at all. In response, I turned to the one solid thing I know I like. Really, the only thing that I know for a fact that I am good at: writing. I applied to be a digital producer at The Fordham Ram, and, to my luck, I got the job.

So there I was, returning from Thanksgiving break to shadow the Ram’s digital team in the Dagger John’s basement with three girls I’d never met before: Frances, Rory and Julia. And when January came, and it was time for our first Ram meeting, something felt different. Over that semester, the three of them became some of my favorite people at Fordham. Funny, kind and smart, all of them made me feel lucky to get to call them friends. I truly don’t know if I would’ve had the same college experience if it weren’t for meeting them at the Ram. I don’t even know if I would be at Fordham at all. Sometimes, something so benign and small can really change everything. I don’t know if they all know how happy I am to know them. And Claire, too, of course. I have every thanks to give to The Fordham Ram, to the staff of Volume 104 for accepting my applications and to everyone I’ve gotten to know, work with and become friends with since. Being a part of this newspaper and the people in it has turned me around and changed my life for the better. If I had any advice to give an incoming freshman, it would be to take a chance, join a club, and trust yourself because there’s a good chance it will all work out. 

I have a lot to be grateful for when I look back at my four years here. So, I’m not sure if I’m where I thought I would be at 21. Actually, I don’t think I am at all. But I know that I’m happy to be here.