Farewell Oregon Part II: School of Journalism and Communication Ceremony

Whitney M.

June 18, 2010 - 8:00 PM

But soon we were expected to be back in line for our second ceremony. They took their places in line, and I took my place at the head of the line to carry the banner once again. The line was filled with people I knew and loved. We all looked around, knowing that it was the last time we would be together, but not really understanding it.

 

We were slowly led by a bagpiper onto the field behind the Knight Library and I took in every moment. I had earned the spot as the Standard Bearer, and I was in my element--representing the journalism school proudly.

 

After I placed the banner in its stand, I took my spot at the head of the line of people to get their diplomas. Because I was the Standard Bearer, I was able to get spots for my best friends right after me, so we three were the first to receive our diplomas from the school of Journalism and Communication.

 

Jessica's brother and Kinsley's boyfriend stood about 15 yards away from us, shooting photos of us the entire time. We sat and watched the rest of the people receive their degrees, gossiping and giggling all the while.

 

Afterward, it was a hodgepodge of families trying to find their graduates and vice versa. Once We all found each other, families in tow, we shot more photos of the three of us, and the four of us once Collin joined us as well.

 

That evening, the 25 of us went out to a very nice dinner and chatted about what was going on in the moment. Very seldom did we mention what we are doing after graduation; we just talked about what we were thinking in just those moments.

 

I stood up and read the lyrics to "Because You Loved Me" by Celine Dion to thank my parents for all that they have done to help me become who I am today, and we ended the evening all cutting our graduation cake together.

 

After a few short hours, we were dividing up into our separate cars and driving away. Away from the comfort of each other's ready accessibility, away from the day of graduation, and away from the University of Oregon.

 

 

 

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Farewell Oregon Part I: University-Wide Graduation Ceremony

Whitney M.

June 18, 2010 - 7:00 PM

On Monday, I graduated from the University of Oregon with a Bachelor of Arts in Journalism and Communication.

 

The day was fabulous. It started early, which was nice. We didn't have to wait for the festivities to begin.

 

I put on my robe and made my way to pick up the banner that I carried as the Standard Bearer for the journalism school.

 

Once I arrived in my position on the field outside of Gerlinger Hall, other graduates started to line up behind the banner.

 

Teachers arrived and took their positions beside me, congratulating me on my honors and telling me what to expect on my graduation trip to Europe.

 

We processed from the field to Hayward Field, me leading the way with a sail of a banner in my hands. It was heavy and the banner filled with wind, forcing me to cling for dear asthetics.

 

One of my teachers said that women weren't allowed to carry the banner even as recent as ten years ago because no one thought that they could handle it.

 

I am a pretty big girl, and I almost couldn't! If it wasn't for the wind, I would have been fine, but it was quite the ordeal. Then, some jackass from the line in front of us said, "Do you need some help with that?" It was condescending and I would have told him off if I wasn't surrounded by professors.

 

Anyway, I made it to the stage, banner in-hand, and completed my duty as the carrier.

 

My best friends and I sat in the crowd, half listening to the speakers, but for the most part, just taking in the moment.

 

After the big ceremony, we had about a half an hour to grab a bite to eat before going to our departmental ceremony.

 

Jessica, Kinsley, and I left Hayward Field in our caps and gowns, tassels pulled to the left, walking down 15th street arm-in-arm. It was beautiful outside. The sun shone down on us as we talked about how nice it was to just be us for a moment in the chaos of organizing our families around the graduation celebrations.

 

 

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Three-Year Anniversary

Whitney M.

June 5, 2010 - 1:53 AM

Collin and I have actually been together for three years. Can you believe that?

 

Here we are, about to embark on our lives, and still we are madly in love.

 

We were eighteen when we met in math class at Portland Community College. It was five days before his nineteenth birthday, when we decided to call each other each other's.

 

He would come to my house and have dinner with my family because I wasn't allowed to be alone with him.

 

That summer, we took a couple of classes at PCC, and he worked as a knife salesman for Cutco. My dad bought his then-girlfriend a beautiful set of Cutco knives, and helped Collin make the commission he needed to take me to movies.

 

It was three months later that I would go to Oregon and four months later that Collin and I decided that we wanted to be together for the rest of our lives.

 

The following nine months were filled with weekend visits and nightly telephone calls. My friends would look down their noses at me for leaving social engagements to take Collin's calls, but even then I knew that my friends had never and may never know a love like his and mine.

 

From the beginning it was deep and beautiful, youthful and mature at the same time. It was founded on real chemistry and sweetness of heart. He helped me become acclimated to living life post-rehab, and I helped him get sober. We developed jokes and on-going conversations that would keep us interested hour after hour.

 

We spent another summer together after my first year at Oregon madly in love, growing closer and more mature. We turned 20 that summer. I had a job as a reporter for a small newspaper in Camas, Washington, and a part-time job as a sales girl at Charlotte Russe in Lloyd Center in Portland. He worked at Hollywood Video, and when we finally had a second to breathe, we would go to the Hoyt Arboretum, the Saturday Market, or just stay home and watch movies in each other's arms.

 

That fall, Collin would return to Oregon with me and start his major in psychology. That term, I was very busy and developed an anxiety problem. Even though I was steadily becoming less sane, Collin stood by me and held me while I cried. When I realized that I was terrorizing both Collin and myself by trying to be successful, I sat down with him and devised a plan to make us happier again.

 

That was one of the first times that I realized just how important Collin was to me and how happy we were together.

 

The rest of that year, things got better and Collin and I prepared for a summer apart.

 

I had been offered an opportunity to work at a political consulting firm with a friend of the family, and Collin had applied to study in Argentina.

 

In no time at all, we were sitting in vastly different parts of the world on the telephone telling each other how desperately we wanted to feel each other's warm touch. But before we knew it, Collin was in Sacramento, visiting me while I was finishing my internship.

 

Finally, we were back here at Oregon, and we found ourselves in love again. That was nine months ago. This year has been magnificent. He and I took up cooking, started watching new shows, fostered a puppy for three months, and hit a few bumps in the road.

 

This year, Collin did some things that would make many girls leave him in a heartbeat.

 

And I thought about it.

 

But one thing I have believed in since I graduated from rehab about the right way to live is to stay committed no matter what.

 

I truly believe that most marriages fail because people are self-indulged overgrown six-year-olds motivated my immediate gratification. I also truly believe that my life will be fullest if I live it married to Collin.

 

I will never forget the first time Collin put these into the perfect combination of words.

 

We were tumbling through an argument and wrapping it up. We were talking about how our love is stronger than any silly quarrel that we could have on any given day, and that the bigger arguments will only make our love stronger. That was when he said: "I feel like we have already taken our vows."
It was beautiful.

 

We are 21, coming dangerously close to 22, but does that mean that it is too early to love endlessly?

 

For better or worse? In sickness and in health? AS LONG as we both shall live?

 

We've had better, and we've had worse, but at the end of every day, I feel honored, privileged, and grovelingly thankful to have such a beautiful, wonderful human being to love with all of my heart-selflessly, forever.

 

 

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The Siren

Whitney M.

May 31, 2010 - 7:00 PM

In the journalism school, there are a bunch of newsstands sitting at the doors. If you get there early enough in the morning, you can actually pick up a free copy of the New York Times, courtesy of the Associated Students of the University of Oregon (ASUO).

 

There are a few other regulars there as well like Ethos Magazine, which is produced every term independent from the school by the students in the School of Journalism and Communication. Too, there are off-beat publications like The Insurgent and The Commentator.

 

But the other day as I was ‘relaxedly' walking out the doors of the j-school and heading home to do not much of anything, I saw a publication that seemed out of the ordinary. My phone rang, so I answered and picked up a free copy without looking at it first.

 

As I walked through the doors and acknowledged the things the person on the line was saying, I realized that I had picked up The Siren: Feminist Magazine of the ASUO Women's Center. I kind of rolled my eyes because, while I am all about equality, I feel that many feminists dream of taking it beyond equality and into the unrealistic realm of an "ideal" maleless society that fill angry coffee houses covered in LGBTQA paraphernalia.

 

Now, please don't get me wrong. I love everyone, and I truly believe that everyone has the right to love whomever they want, and that it is a horrendous crime to rob people of their right to pursue happiness as long as doing so doesn't hurt others. (In a nutshell, I love gay people). But just like most other things, too much feminism in a concentrated space is not necessarily a good thing. Like Kool-Aid and frat boys. Too much is too much. I am an over-zealous grammarian and I am sure that people wish I would leave them alone.

 

That was a pretty long disclaimer, but I wanted to make my intentions clear.

 

Anyway, I took a class in Women's Studies about the History of Women in the 20th century. It was fascinating. I loved it! It was so interesting to look at the evolution of women's roles in society over the last hundred or so years. So when I saw an article called "I don't love you, but I will make you breakfast," in The Siren describing how to throw the perfect cocktail party, complete with snarky commentary on what is considered polite, I couldn't resist.

I am a career-driven student housewife. I LOVE to decorate, cook, clean, pamper my boyfriend (who is the man I am going to marry) and snuggle the animals in my house. However, I am constantly working toward an occupation that will *hopefully* pay me six figures.

 

It is kind of a strange place to be, but I want to be here. I love both things, and the thing about modern women is that they can bake their cakes and sell them too.

 

 

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Chicken Tetrazzini

Whitney M.

May 30, 2010 - 9:45 PM

So, a couple of weeks ago, Collin showed me a Youtube clip from the television show Maury. It was a particularly juicy one.

 

The clip showed a young woman who was accusing her best friend and her boyfriend of cheating on her together.

 

One of her many accusations was that the best friend was winning Paul over with the cunning use of chicken tetrazzini.

 

"I don' know what she do wit that chicken tetrazzini, but Pauloveit!" she says.

 

Yes. Pauloveit is one word.

 

Anyway, I thought that if that was the case. If one girl could steal away another girl's guy by cooking up a batch of chicken tetrazzini, then I must see what all the fuss is about.

 

Acutally, I had never even heard of chicken tetrazzini until Collin showed me that video. So I had to Google it before I could even start conceiving the making of said dish.

 

It looked great. Mushrooms and chicken with a cheesy sauce, mmmmm...I couldn't wait to get my hands on a chopping knife and get started on the project. But unfortunately, I did have to wait. Collin and I didn't want to buy every single ingredient in order to start the process, so we waited to come home to start cooking it up.

 

His mom had more than enough of the ingredients, so all we needed were a few odds and ends.
The night went pretty smoothly; Anne, Collin's mom, and I cooked diligently for about two hours and by 8:20, dinner was served.

 

I can't tell you how disappointed I was. It was a flavorless casserole of fattening bore. It was a huge waste of calorie intake. But, as if we cared, at least we know now that the girl's boyfriend wasn't stolen by chicken tetrazzini; it must have been... something else.

 

 

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