COLUMN: Stretch yourself and smell the roses

    First off, I am writing today because we were unable to schedule a faculty member for our weekly Faculty Voices column. So, if there are any members of the staff reading this that have thought “Hmm, I could write a decent column for The Statesman” or “Man, I wish I had a stage from which to proclaim a roughly 800-word rant on the travesties of modern warfare (or any other rant-inducing topic)” then please, contact us.

    Moving on. This week I have been bombarded with feelings of nostalgia. As I walked through the TSC on Monday it occurred to me that it would be my last first-day at Utah State University. I suddenly began taking extra notice of the details around me: the flags lining the ceiling of the international lounge, the view of the patio from the upstairs windows, the sound of a hundred wet shoes scurrying along the corridors.

    It was pleasant, then I remembered it was only a matter of months until I was unemployed and homeless with no direction other than what the wind blows me toward. The first symptoms of a quarter-life crisis began to appear. I thought about getting a tattoo on my head, buying a motorcycle, dating a cheerleader  – well, if I could I would, regardless of crisis.

    While I was in this introspective state, it just so happened that I had to go visit Special Collections to research an article I’m writing. I love it down there, I’ve had a chance to tour the archives and it is fascinating how much old Aggie stuff they have down there. There’s been a few days where I’ve had some time between classes so I go read next to Old Ephraim’s head – it’s huge!

    As fate would have it, my research involved looking through the old student yearbooks from 1960 to 1965. A lot has changed – the very existence of a yearbook being, for one – but even more was the same: True Aggie night, Homecoming parade, the arts, athletics, recreation on the Quad, and the Greeks were in just as much control of ASUSU as always. I looked through hundreds of photographs of students who came to Logan to spend their undergraduate years. They made friends, they made memories, they wore the colors and sang the songs.

    It made me feel small by comparison, but the beautiful thing about our time here is knowing that we’re part of something big.

    When you’re a journalist, you have the odd experience of being in contact with a number of different groups without belonging to any of them. You attend events, meetings, gatherings. You get feedback, both good and bad. You receive hot tips under anonymity from warring factions. Often I have found myself getting swept away by the petty differences that divide the various entities that make up the inner politics at USU and losing sight of the bigger picture that in our differences, we are all Aggies. We love our school.

    Humans are social animals and it is a natural consequence that in time we surround ourselves with minds that are similar to our own. We seek out people who dress the same, look the same, think the same, listen to the same music and enjoy the same activities. It is a natural consequence, but it is also unfortunate, because each one of us is the center of our own universes and the more we insulate ourselves with mirrored personalities the easier it becomes to believe that our way of thinking is the only way.

    If we do that, no matter what we achieve or to what heights we excel during our time at Utah State, we will have failed. Each one of us is but a drop in an enormous sea of ideas and experiences and it is that union of thought that is the legacy of higher education.

    So if you, like me, are suddenly facing your academic mortality I suggest you try something new. I have essentially lived in Animal Science for the last three-and-a-half years, but this semester I’m taking a music class, and yoga. For everyone though, I would challenge you to avoid creating a hive mind out of your social circles, rather than forming them as seems to be the popular trend. You learn so much more from your polar opposite, than your closest friend.

Benjamin Wood is the editor in chief of The Utah Statesman. He can be reached at statesmaneditor@aggiemail.usu.edu