Doctors on television are portrayed as heroes. That’s not to say they can’t be in real life, but as a patient who has seen dozens of doctors in hopes of finding an answer and feeling better, I’m jaded. In my story, more often than not, they’re the antagonist rather than the helpful figure I need.
If I walk to my car when it’s dark out, I always tuck my sharpest key between my pointer and middle fingers.
The year is 2018, yet a certain subset of professors still cling to the notion that the personal pronoun “they” or “them” can only be plural. I’ve heard of an instance where a student suffered point deductions for using the singular “they” in their writing. These grammar “purists” find themselves in good, authoritative company: Purdue OWL and the APA style guide both proscribe use of the singular “they.” As a writer lacking sufficient tact, allow me to make my point clear: These professors are dull-witted and severely lacking the high ground.
It was a typical day for me on Facebook not too long ago. I look at deserving posts and give them “love” reacts in order to make Facebook’s heartless algorithm realize whatever post I’m looking at is a good one and deserves more love.
It’s a lovely, overcast afternoon in Gainesville. The sun beats away fruitlessly at the clouds that shield the Earth from a tropical inferno. Floridian humidity fogs your glasses as you step off the bus. You stroll toward the heart of campus with a textbook cradled in one arm and your Instagram feed clutched in the opposite hand. You, shining monument to the millennial spirit, are the Statue of Liberty of twenty-somethings everywhere — the shining beacon of social media savvy. You float along the sidewalk still glistening from this morning’s rain. Headed to Library West, you pass through Turlington Plaza. A ghostly, pale figure stands stock-still in the center of the otherwise empty, red-bricked patio. He raises his arm towards you as you approach; in his outstretched hand is a small pamphlet. On its face, written in wispy white letters, a headline reads:
Even though social media ever-present, it's time to start seeking a life beyond it's validation
Editor’s Note: UF President Kent Fuchs published a column, which ran in the Aug. 22 issue of The Alligator, that called for readers to send feedback on what they wanted UF to accomplish over the next decade. This letter was written in response.
I am a hypocrite. I love writing columns, arguing my opinions, excavating the news of the week for interesting artifacts. I haven’t written a column since the Spring semester, and I waited for that privilege again, which I am exercising and enjoying now and is the ultimate expression of my hypocrisy.
Please get involved in Student Government; I said please!
Through ignorance, belly dancing has become an art form that breeds judgement and contempt. Some say it’s too hot and too seductive. Some have asked how I feel comfortable in my own skin. Some just look me up and down, slowly.
What you may be expecting from your freshmen year won't happen. That's okay.
The series "Afflicted" misleads people as to what a chronic illness is really about
The five things you should know, from one of UF's librarians
As you take this year’s first steps across Reitz Union, through Turlington Plaza or into Library West, know that Gainesville, UF and The Alligator welcome you home. If this is your first time here, you’ll quickly become acquainted with what Gainesville has to offer. Prepare for the golden age between child and adult known as “college.” To those coming back: We missed you. Our town, schools and businesses are happy to have you back.
Welcome to Alachua County, Gators!
College is a time of big changes for anyone. There are a lot of major decisions to make.You have to select your area of study and decide how you’re going spend your time on campus. The moves we make during these years on campus can outline the trajectory for our future. Making concrete and life-changing decisions can feel overwhelming. Things in and out of your control can affect your life path. Choosing one club or class can feel insignificant. But, on the other hand, one experience can illuminate a dream you never knew you had. Conversely, one class or club won’t make or break your life. A failure or a misstep can be a chance to learn or find what’s right for you.For me, this year has been especially crushing. I’ve felt stuck and frustrated due to how sick I’ve been. This summer, I wasn’t able to take on an internship. I’ve been in and out of the doctor and stuck in bed unable to focus on anything. I’m scared how sick I feel now is going to impact my future.Writing my columns for this Summer semester was really my only connection to a world outside of my phone, class on my laptop, bedroom or doctors’ offices. Sometimes I wrote what I needed to hear myself. Other times, I wrote about something impacting me in real time. Some things were reflective.For me, I’m glad I made the decision to write this summer for The Alligator. It taught me a lot about myself. I’m stuck on more than one decision for the Fall semester and grappling with the realities of what I can and can’t take on. More decisions being made by my body without my input.I can’t tell my body to give me more energy and magically function at its best. I wish it was up to running down Stadium Road or past Century Tower under a curtain of Spanish moss. I wish I could spend late nights on campus working in the newsroom or at The Alligator. I wish I could do more outside of my dorm bed and fill my UF bucket list to the brim with things other than going to UF Health Shands Hospital multiple times a week, not for an internship, but for visits.These decisions are made for me, by my doctors or by my health. I can’t change them as much as I want to. What I can do is make the most of the decisions left for me to make. College has taught me many lessons beyond the classroom, most of them about life. I may not have had my dream internship or campus experience yet, but I do have wisdom from my unique experiences that I might not have gotten any other way. And I do have wonderful professors, doctors, mentors and friends who have given me something that’s one of the most important parts of college to me: community.
Today, I moved out of the dorm I’ve been living in for two years. I secretly liked living in a dorm, and I feel a little sentimental leaving it for a house. Once you get past the embarrassment of telling people you’re a sophomore living in a dorm, it’s not too bad.
We all know the walk through Turlington Plaza. It’s a veritable minefield of distractions. People handing out pamphlets, students trying to get you to join their clubs, doughnut sales for the nexus of evil: the Alachua County Humane Society. But there are also those who have a less-than-appealing message. Some of the Turlington heralds preach a very religious message of fire and brimstone, and some go way overboard on the rhetoric. The next time you walk through Turlington try to keep an open mind and listen to what they’ve got to say.
Throughout the semester, I’ve read and edited some pretty bad columns, so I’m hoping I’ve learned how to write a good one.
Given this is my final column for the summer, I wanted to go over everything that went wrong in the way Student Government handled juggling Newell Hall and Library West. Well, perhaps not just everything that went “wrong;” maybe also things that make you go “hmmmm.”
Solutions by The State News
