Three years ago, when I was a freshman, I not only attended the Mystery Trip (to Baltimore) and Semi-Formal (at Camden’s Adventure Aquarium), but I also wrote about these events for The Minstrel. Now, I’m a senior watching our new freshman staff members, Alex Lingle and Chris Shaddock, write about new iterations of the same events (page 2). (I won’t forget our third and final freshman, Madeline Maxine Gorman, whose review of “Bridge of Spies” will be featured on desalesminstrel.org on Nov. 9 for our awesome new hashtag, #MovieReviewMonday.)
Like any student newspaper, The Minstrel is perpetually growing up as seniors like me graduate and new staffers cycle in. Recently, I sent out a summer internship application (yes, this early) that included a short essay. Writing that essay required me to reflect on my four years here, not only inside The Minstrel but outside of it as well.
What I considered most is how time flies. How people change. How people I was great friends with my first semester here haven’t been a part of my life since, and how people I ignored at first turned into valuable and long-lasting friends. In summary, how consistently wrong my first impressions seem to be. I know this happens to everyone, but it’s hard as a senior not to look back, feel old, feel sad and reminisce.
As I drafted these first three paragraphs, I was handing out media and staff credentials at Friday night’s Lehigh Valley Phantoms game as part of my internship with them. I offered a talkative woman with a walker my one spare chair. She sat and told me she’s 68. She told me about Allentown’s old department store, Hess’s (closed in 1996), and about what the city used to be like. She told me more than I’d ever ask about. But I listened, and I realized two important truths.
1. The human race tells stories, so every one of us reminisces.
2. Seniors, we’re seniors, but we’re not seniors. We get to look forward as much as we get to reminisce. Soak it up.
Until next time, DeSales,