At the begininng of college, one of the most exciting things was the ability to have a “grown-up” email signature, and I think how they’ve evolved during my time here are rather telling about my experience.

It started like this: as neutral and dorky as a freshman email signature can get. I hadn’t really connected that if I was emailing someone, they wouldn’t need my email address written down below my name. I was stoked to be in college and felt weirdly in control and powerful.

At least this next one means I was confident that I’d graduate on time?

Chaotic evil. I blocked this era out and will not (should not) look back. I shudder at the sight. It always started up emails that began with “Dear Professor… help/I apologize.” F tier.

Ohhh hello little major removal! C tier. So doubtful, so meek. So necessary. <3

We digress from the sophmore year horror! Oh to be an English major. Terrifying yet lovely acceptance into my group of people. I remember going from classes only in Williams to classes only in Kauke. I remember going into Old Main for the first time and being flabbergasted by the mood change. To my humanities people, I love you.

I will be doing a close reading of my email signature, and I will be saying my bolded name and pronouns mean I’ve gained a whole lot of confidence and self assurance.

Yeehaw. The time has come. I have fully hatched. Watch out world! Or rather I will say “excuse me” softly because I’m still navigating the complexities of academia and continue grapple with the American educational system. Maybe I have been taught to watch out for you.

If there’s anything this school has taught me, it’s that I’m the only person who can help myself. There’s countless amazing people that can guide me the best they can, but I am ultimately in control of my success and performance.

Even more groundbreaking was what this semester has proven, something I never wanted to imagine. Being in an English major, something I absolutely love, is not always fun. It’s unrealistic for me to always expect poetry rainbows and that I’d only analyze the literature I love. I expected my shift from STEM to Humanities to solve all of my issues, and that expecation was absurd.

We spend so much time enveloped in academia- worrying and studying and writing and emailing and analyzing and scheduling- that we forget we’re people outside of this. “Student” is a small part of who I am, and I still struggle to understand how all of our value is somehow decided by an A or F. It’s easy to feel helpless and small in college, and I do, but knowing that I’m more than a student keeps me going.