I graduated yesterday and I am so glad to be done.
But I’m also totally bummed.
I mean I’m certainly not going to miss working three jobs to make enough money to pay for my three classes and working hard enough to not lose the two scholarships I put countless hours into earning. I’m also not really going to miss the four parking tickets I acquired on campus or the outrageously priced books that I hardly used or the three loans that still need to be paid off or the six and a half squares left on my face after falling asleep at the keyboard (twice).
But I am going to miss my professors (and Carol, the department manager).
And I am going to miss one professor in particular.
My professor is a rock star.
She is honest and raw and tells you to fake it ’til you make it…but not too much because you really should know how to avoid libel and how to meet a deadline.
She tells wild stories about the people she’s interviewed, the places she’s been and the sticky situations she’s survived.
She’s brilliant. But she doesn’t make you feel stupid.
She calls you out when you’ve missed the mark.
She helps you understand that diversity is bigger than you ever knew before and that sensitivity and tenacity are a journalist’s best assets.
No matter how amazing your story turns out she will give you a C if you misspell someone’s name. This makes you terrified to ever do it again and apologetic that it ever happened in the first place.
My professor asks questions. And not the kind she already knows the answers to. She asks how WE are going to report the news differently. Will we blog? Tweet? Facebook? Will we create tablet magazines? Will we make interactive graphics? How do we want the world to consume the news?
My professor is the kind that make you consider staying in school forever just so you can hang around learning from the coolest people in the world.
There is no one like my professor. I dare you to prove me wrong.
Thank you, Carolyn, for being an incredible professor.