Established 1826 — Oldest College Newspaper West of the Alleghenies

Community helps writer challenge personal beliefs

Elizabeth Miller

After three years, it's bittersweet to write my last Miami Student column. My first column was a cushy little piece about the Mega Fair. I compared it to a "buffet of college opportunities"-or something tragically tacky like that. At the time, of course, it seemed brilliant. There's something to be said about an honest retrospective look about how you've improved throughout college. My evolution as a writer happened in front of a 15,000 person audience-the Miami student population. Every two weeks, I was assigned to imagine something-anything-to write about for this column slot. Something to entertain all of you 18-22 year olds. It might sound easy. But really, you're a tough crowd to please. And I know: I'm one of you.

Most of my columns were pretty fluffy at first. I didn't take many chances, but they made people smile. I wrote about happy things like playing in the leaves on Academic Quad and studying abroad in Luxembourg. They were safe, easy things to write about. But column by column, I learned that my job as a writer-and my job as a human being-is not to simply appease people. My job is to stand for something. I have a responsibility to not fade into the consensus of what everyone else thinks. I have a duty to challenge and inspire others to think something new, something different. This duty comes with risking the approval of others, rejecting the acceptance of the mainstream and breeching the expectations of peers. All in a day's work.

Slowly, I learned to take chances with things I wrote. In my columns, I've written about God. If this makes me a Bible-thumper, then I'll own it. I've written about having mercy towards teen mothers needing pregnancy leave from high school. If this makes me too tolerant, then I'll admit it. I've written ad nauseam about aiding Africa, serving Katrina victims, donating to AIDS causes and ending the sex slave trade. If this makes me a bleeding-heart idealist, well, then I probably am. I've written about my personal struggles with eating disorders, relationships and identity issues at Miami. If this makes me unnecessarily confessional, then I stand by my opinion that self-preservation is selfish.

I've learned to write what I mean and mean what I write. In the process, I've learned how to live according to my beliefs and to believe in the way I live. I learned that it's more important to be myself than to be accepted. Not to mention, it's tiring trying to be anyone but yourself.

But these last three years haven't just taught me to grow as a writer. I've grown as a person. I recommend that everyone develop a healthy irreverence for others' judgments before you leave college. Part of my growth as a columnist and as a student is that I realized that I couldn't go along for four years with a lukewarm complacence about what everyone else before me said. Not to say everyone is meant to be a revolutionary. I'm certainly not one. I'm not even rebellious, nor do I think you have to be to make a stand and have influence.

In fact, I've found that sometimes it's more important to wisely choose your influencers than to be "the individual." In the past four years I've become whole from the pieces of the influencers in my life. My housemates (fondly called The Blue House) have shown me that true friendship doesn't have time boundaries and that some of the most needed conversations come at 2 a.m. the night before an exam. My parents have shown me that love doesn't have a price tag, but that an unexpected $20 bill is more than just money in college. My professors showed me that patience is not just a virtue, but a gift-especially when I ask the same ridiculous questions again and again.

The influential people, experiences and lessons at Miami have given me the confidence to be exactly who I am, but still open to growing. As a columnist, I appreciate the Miami student audience who has let me mature as a student by writing these columns. So thanks everyone for reading, and thank you for helping me find my voice.


Enjoy what you're reading?
Signup for our newsletter