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I’ve always struggled to be in one place at a time. In 2009, I unpacked my global baggage into a 9-by-10-foot box in Hill College House. I had a British passport and an American accent. I spoke fluent Chinese, but I wasn’t really Chinese.
These were the times when I was fully present, living Penn to its fullest in the most unassuming way possible. I was just there, in the moment, because where else would I want to be?
Schoolwork was secondary to adventures, from studying abroad to going across town to get a 4 a.m. cheesesteak. That’s where I learned the most — life lessons, not classroom lessons.
Among the thousands of students who will graduate on Monday are dozens of athletes who are officially retiring from their respective sports. Sports have been a large part of their identities dating back to their childhood. And the large majority of Penn’s athletes have played their last competitive games … ever.
From sitting next to him at Sunday breakfast, I learned everything I know about sports and sports writing. We’d sit together and read a profile on an up-and-coming pitcher or a big feature on the college football bowl games. He taught me how to read box scores and stat sheets, and when breakfast was over and the weather was nice, we’d all go to the park with a wiffle ball and bat or a frisbee.
One of the most challenging things I have ever done. Working on a deadline, thinking critically quickly and building relationships with coaches and athletes are all things that have tested me. But it is because of these challenges that I have found my four years with the DP one of the most rewarding aspects of my time at Penn.
I kept having fun. So much fun that I switched my major for it. So much fun that every conversation I had was about Penn athletics. So much fun that I even dreamed Penn athletics.
I originally decided to go to UNC over Penn because I wanted to pursue sports journalism and spend four years at a place with lots of school spirit. The funny thing is, I found that opportunity and school spirit right here at Penn.
I joke with my mom the fact that I was born a month late reflects my personality. When I get comfortable somewhere, I don’t want to leave. I said the same thing about high school that I’m saying now about college: they’re kicking me out the door — I’m not going voluntarily.
As much as I’d love to write my farewell column using only Wharton memes, none of these tidbits caught my eye as much as this gem: Write a piece of semi-autobiographical detective fiction.
Writing personal essays is more like diving into the crowd, grabbing people out of their seats and making them dance with you. This is where I feel at home.
As much as I would love to spell out the metaphor I’ve come up with that explains life’s deepest mysteries (hint: it’s awesome), it’s as a long-time editor and reporter at this place that I take up the weighty responsibility of giving everybody a few ideas for senior columns to come.