2008 Woodie Awards
So this is finally it, and I've said all I wanted to say
by Andrew Miller
Issue date: 5/1/08
Section: Voices
Turns out I'm not very good at moving on. Like the stubborn veteran with diminishing skills and barely the sense to know his career is over, this is my forced retirement from the Reporter, although it lacks authenticity on several degrees. For one, this retirement is more by default. I'm graduating, after all.
Usually, graduation acts as the end for we Reporter folk. My case is no different. However, I've accepted admission to Minnesota State's Masters of Fine Arts in Creative Writing program. This in mind, I'm more like the retired player who landed the obscure front office job. Still, the fact remains: This is it. This is my last time appearing in the Reporter.
Sometime in the last semester, I lost touch with the students on this campus, particularly the younger ones. Never have I felt older than at the Ron Jeremy-Craig Gross pornography debate last Thursday night. (Or maybe freshman guys have never been more immature. Tough call.) I won't say I wish I would've written more this past year, because truthfully, I feel like I said everything I had to say over my five-year tenure. I guess in the process I became an old, detached cynic.
I've never been one to spout wisdom. The way I went about college worked for me, but you should decide your own path. However, I hope it leads you to a place with no regrets and a sense of fulfillment. (It's here I would write something sentimental about my time at MSU, but shit, I'm not going anywhere so let's avoid the arbitrary.)
I cannot overlook the unique opportunities I've been afforded by the Reporter. So often, we staffers complain about putrid wages and long hours, but the fact is I got paid to do something I loved to do. I got paid to do something I would have paid to do.
I've done it before, so I find it self-serving to again repeat my thanks to those who've helped me along the way. In the interest of rising ink costs, I thank all of you again. Soon enough, I will thank you personally. I owe you that.
With a straight face, I can say I have never been more excited for the future of the Reporter. When my second stint as editor-in-chief came to an end, the worry was we were short on staffing and experience. In less than a year, our staff has grown immensely and we're again driven by talent that has made the paper not just good, but great. That's something to take pride in, Bronson Pettitt. That's something to live up to, Derek Wehrwein.
On graduation day, my grandmother will be in attendance with my parents, and her presence is quite apropos. Not only did she graduate from the Mankato State Teachers College in 1955, but she taught me how to read and she was the one who gave me Dave Barry's "Dave Barry Slept Here: A Sort of History of the United States of America." When I read this book in 7th grade, I discovered writing could by excruciatingly funny if done correctly. I tried to follow Barry's style and haven't gone a day without writing since.
Let me revisit my terrible pro-athlete metaphor and, finally, thank the fans. I was always surprised by strangers who would come up to me to say they liked an article or agreed with something I wrote. Others said they read each of my Voices pieces. That a complete stranger would take five minutes out of their day to read one of my rants means more than I can express, because I wouldn't define reading as "fun." Thank you for your time and even more for your thanks.
This is it. I have no closing statements of any value, no parting shots. I'm not uncomfortable leaving the Reporter, because as many of my former colleagues have said, over time, the Reporter feels like your kid. I've done all I can, then, as a parent, so it's only fitting that as I graduate, I feel like I'm sending my "kid" off to college.
I know my kid is going to continue to do great things.
Andrew Miller is a Reporter staff writer
Usually, graduation acts as the end for we Reporter folk. My case is no different. However, I've accepted admission to Minnesota State's Masters of Fine Arts in Creative Writing program. This in mind, I'm more like the retired player who landed the obscure front office job. Still, the fact remains: This is it. This is my last time appearing in the Reporter.
Sometime in the last semester, I lost touch with the students on this campus, particularly the younger ones. Never have I felt older than at the Ron Jeremy-Craig Gross pornography debate last Thursday night. (Or maybe freshman guys have never been more immature. Tough call.) I won't say I wish I would've written more this past year, because truthfully, I feel like I said everything I had to say over my five-year tenure. I guess in the process I became an old, detached cynic.
I've never been one to spout wisdom. The way I went about college worked for me, but you should decide your own path. However, I hope it leads you to a place with no regrets and a sense of fulfillment. (It's here I would write something sentimental about my time at MSU, but shit, I'm not going anywhere so let's avoid the arbitrary.)
I cannot overlook the unique opportunities I've been afforded by the Reporter. So often, we staffers complain about putrid wages and long hours, but the fact is I got paid to do something I loved to do. I got paid to do something I would have paid to do.
I've done it before, so I find it self-serving to again repeat my thanks to those who've helped me along the way. In the interest of rising ink costs, I thank all of you again. Soon enough, I will thank you personally. I owe you that.
With a straight face, I can say I have never been more excited for the future of the Reporter. When my second stint as editor-in-chief came to an end, the worry was we were short on staffing and experience. In less than a year, our staff has grown immensely and we're again driven by talent that has made the paper not just good, but great. That's something to take pride in, Bronson Pettitt. That's something to live up to, Derek Wehrwein.
On graduation day, my grandmother will be in attendance with my parents, and her presence is quite apropos. Not only did she graduate from the Mankato State Teachers College in 1955, but she taught me how to read and she was the one who gave me Dave Barry's "Dave Barry Slept Here: A Sort of History of the United States of America." When I read this book in 7th grade, I discovered writing could by excruciatingly funny if done correctly. I tried to follow Barry's style and haven't gone a day without writing since.
Let me revisit my terrible pro-athlete metaphor and, finally, thank the fans. I was always surprised by strangers who would come up to me to say they liked an article or agreed with something I wrote. Others said they read each of my Voices pieces. That a complete stranger would take five minutes out of their day to read one of my rants means more than I can express, because I wouldn't define reading as "fun." Thank you for your time and even more for your thanks.
This is it. I have no closing statements of any value, no parting shots. I'm not uncomfortable leaving the Reporter, because as many of my former colleagues have said, over time, the Reporter feels like your kid. I've done all I can, then, as a parent, so it's only fitting that as I graduate, I feel like I'm sending my "kid" off to college.
I know my kid is going to continue to do great things.
Andrew Miller is a Reporter staff writer
Be the first to comment on this story