As I’m staring down the barrel of graduation, I can’t help but feel flooded by emotions. The wispy memories of Pit sits and sunbathing on the quad rush into my mind as I reminisce about my favorite courses and the friendships I’ve made along the way. I know that “the real world,” — while different from a college campus — will provide me with many of the same opportunities to find happiness and enjoyment within the cycle of a day. However, there is one irreplaceable thing that I know I am leaving behind in college: the Old Gold & Black.

My four undergraduate years have been defined by this publication in more ways than I can count, and I often forget that being a part of the OGB is such a niche experience. Not everyone has access to our fifth-floor Benson office, where they end up spending enough time with the same 10 people to reach the point of delirium. Working for the OGB is a wild ride, and in an attempt to reflect on this whole experience, I will also try to convince you, dear reader, to get involved with this publication as much as you can.

Though it is probably the most boring thing to bring up, I would be remiss not to point out how much OGB prepares you for “adulting” (look, I know that this word is hotly contested … but that’s a topic for another op-ed). I have acquired and fine-tuned skills as obvious as being able to write and stay organized; as well as others that are a lot more complicated: being able to stand up for myself in the face of authority and learn how to be in a professional space where personal life can make matters complicated. It’s been deeply challenging, but OGB has made me that much more ready to tackle the uncharted territory of life post-undergrad.

One of the worst things about college is how much it sucks up all of your time and energy, leaving very little room for you to express yourself and find spaces in which you can be creative. This is something that I often took for granted about the OGB, but as I am on the way out, I now realize that it gave me a platform to explore my passions. I wrote about music, movies, politics and travel. I created graphics and produced an entire podcast. I made OGB into what I wanted it to be, and I never felt boxed in. Everything I have created through this publication has allowed me to grow on an intimately personal level. If you want proof that OGB is a publication dedicated to the cause of personal expression, look no further than the fact that they are letting me publish what is essentially a diary entry.

On the other hand, one of the best things about college is making connections, and let me tell you, this is something we are really good at here at the Old Gold & Black. I was able to build relationships with people I would have never crossed paths with otherwise, finding connections within the world of journalism and — more often than not — about things completely unrelated to the newspaper. We made playlists together, played baseball with a rolled-up poster and stress ball and watched election results roll in on Tuesday nights. We played iPhone Uno, had March Madness brackets and shared meal swipes. My dear friend Emily Beauchamp and I did this whole thing together. Both timid freshmen in the fall of 2017, we became production assistants, assistant editors, section editors and finally members of the executive board for 2020. I am so grateful for her.

If I added up the amount of hours I have spent in the OGB office, it might be cause for concern. A lot of important things have happened in that office. I made friends for life. I fell in love. I interviewed for jobs. I cried a lot, but  I definitely laughed even more. I’ve stayed up all night, and I’ve slept on the couch. I studied for finals, but I gossiped even more. I’ve eaten breakfast, lunch and dinner there — sometimes alone, (though not often). I consumed more black coffees and yerba mates than I’d like to admit. I said many simple hellos, and lots of meaningful goodbyes. I wrote my first article, and my last. I lived a lot of life up in that office. A lot of people have. And you can, too.