We were pushed, so I’m pushing back
By David Gomez Jr.
Published Thursday, Sept. 22, 2022
Our office was moved to a study room. A study room!
I’m certain they did not mean for it to be a joke, but it sure felt like one. Going from a first-floor, private room shared with psychology graduate students, with a couch I could nap on in between classes when I lacked sleep–it was perfect. The cherry on top was the absolute privacy due to the card reader at the door. A hidden oasis on campus.
This may sound like an escape from college life, but it was quite the opposite as much homework, newspaper design and editing was done from there. It felt like a hidden hole in the wall of the first floor of Pellegrino. My adviser, myself and others would sometimes stay to the edge of the morning to finish said new edition on the weekend. Fridays and Saturdays were our design days. Now, they are scrapped and are lost in the shuffle because we have to work through Killam Library’s hours and that throws us off our workflow. Again, like a slap in the face.
If you’ve read this far, you may know that I’m the type of person that always believes there’s a reason for everything. I believe that reason is to push our staff this semester. Especially myself. This being my last semester, I strongly believe I have to give it my all.
The academic chapters in my life have been about perseverance for the better of something. I passed the fifth grade in portable buildings. A new school was constructed once I left. When I left middle school, the basketball practices I had were held in an older wing of the school where it was demolished when I transitioned to high school. Then came high school, as part of the first class of Early College graduates at Texas A&M International University, I graduated from another set of portable buildings where the Academic Innovation Center now stands. I lost a dollar coin that fell between the cracks of the patio area where I would have lunch because I pretended to be Harvey “Two Face” Dent after watching The Dark Knight that summer.
I always felt I needed to push myself as far as I possibly could so the people who come after me can have a better, smoother experience than the treacherous terrain I’ve had to tread so lightly on. Then again, that’s just always been life, no?
This time, it feels a little different. This is for The Bridge. I don’t want to leave this paper in shambles, or anything, but I know I have to prepare it for the next editor-in-chief. I don’t want it to fail. I can’t have it fail. For someone who took the position they’re currently in for the title, I have no regrets in doing so because it helped mold me from an introverted piece of clay to the walking, talking Nightmare Before Christmas-esque character I’ve become.
I expressed my frustration at the beginning of this piece, but it has honestly fueled me to write more. I don’t feel I can turn a blind eye this semester. There are stories that have fallen apart due to lack of sources. Well I want to find those sources and make some noise at this University because I feel we, the newspaper, have been overlooked and kicked to the curb.
This is a volunteer student-run paper, ya know? We do not have to be here. The best praise we attain here is by not having any from students or faculty. We only know we’ve done something wrong when complaints are brought to our attention. Someone else’s mistakes are automatically mine, as the editor.
As I’ve said before, I plan on making some noise this semester, but letting it fall apart? Not on my watch.