Oh, the life of a columnist. Always looking for
something to vent about or something that will pull at
the heartstrings of readers. I’m on constant alert.
Watching the news, reading the papers and observing
the people and things around me. Sometimes columns, to
me, are like a smack in the face — they just hit me.
Other times they sneak up on me mere days before
press.
Being a columnist is a great feeling of power. The
voice that I have can be the voice that many others
want to shout out, but have no avenue in which to vent
their frustrations. I am their avenue, I am their
voice.
I love being a columnist. I love to “Say it loud” and
hope people will come to look forward to what I write.
My column that was printed on Jan. 6 was something
that was probably building over the years, living and
growing up in Oregon. It wasn’t until over winter
break that I realized just how frustrated I was with
Oregon. I was having a conversation with someone from
my hometown, and they said the Ducks sucked. I said
yeah, I know. They were so astounded because they know
I attend school here. They asked if I had any pride
in my school. I said yeah, I have pride, but I go there
for my education and because it was convenient, not
because “AAAH, I was going to be a Duck.” I could care
less how the Ducks are faring in one sporting event or
another. All I care about is getting my degree and
stepping out into the world where I think I belong.
Not where people believe I should be just because I
attend this particluar school.
So, needless to say, my creative inspiration comes from
many places — from standing in a line too long or the
people dying in war. Either way, whatever strikes me as
important, at that time, will make my statement for
that column.
My voice will be heard.