The Spectrum tried repeatedly in in-person meetings and emails to SA officials to obtain two media passes to this year’s Fall Fest. SA representatives were as adamant as their reasoning was vague: This year’s SA e-board would not provide The Spectrum with passes.
I can’t help but wonder what “pro-lifers” would say if they carried the burden of their own mom’s downward spiral on their backs.
It feels daunting to reflect on three years packed with experiences which shaped me as a student, friend, artist and person. But all good stories start at the beginning, so I’m sitting here reminiscing on my first days at The Spectrum.
I don’t know what the future has in store for me, but I trust that, with the knowledge I’ve gained during my time at UB and The Spectrum, I can handle whatever it is.
My time at this publication hasn’t always been easy, but it’s always been worth it.
The Spectrum has given me so much, allowing me to flourish as a writer and journalist. But above all else, it’s given me friends for life.
How do I say goodbye to the first home I made for myself? The friends I loved, lost and kept between Aug. 23, 2018, when I moved into Governors Complex, and May 22, 2022, when I will walk across the stage? All I can say is thank you.
The future — no, YOUR future — is coming, and even if you have no idea what it holds, it will be brighter than you could ever predict.
After four years of crying myself to sleep and worrying if I will be able to make it through the day, I finally made it to graduation.
At the end of the day, you are your own person. And if you don’t want to explain your sexuality or identity for whatever reason, you don’t owe anyone an explanation.
The inner workings of our mind — from intrusive thoughts to worries, insecurities and negative self-talk — isn’t something we can easily pinpoint and explain in a play-by-play commentary to someone else.
Infatuation is the red flag you don’t see because you’re blinded by the overwhelming emotions you feel. It’s a truth that not everyone understands.
International student-athletes must try to overcome homesickness and a language barrier on top of the typical daily problems of a college student.
People need to know that they’re not alone in their loneliness — none of us are.
It is a relentless and exhausting battle. I live in a pendulum, swinging back and forth between feeling devastatingly numb and debilitatingly depressed. Joy is a fleeting feeling whose glimpses only seem to push me further down the hole, reminding myself that I have not earned happiness.
Solutions by The State News
