I’m not going to lie: I’m excited, nervous, anxious, proud, humbled, scared and optimistic. This bevy of contradictory emotions is probably confusing, so let me tell y’all why I’m feeling all of these at once.
I’m about to graduate from Texas A&M.
There’s so much I want to say about my time in Aggieland, but to be frank, words won’t do any sort of justice to what A&M means to me. So here goes nothing.
I still remember when I knew I wanted to come here. February during my senior year of high school, all the colleges I applied to had gotten back to me. I had plenty of options, which didn’t make my decision-making process any easier. Then, an ice storm hit and my high school canceled classes for a week. I decided to tour the schools on my shortlist, with A&M being the last destination.
I remember staying in my cousin’s apartment and talking to her about why she came here. I visited with a high school friend and met her friends. Two completely different people who had found their niche. On the drive home, I ruminated. At this point, I was between A&M and a much smaller school, and a thought popped into my head: “You can always make a big school smaller, but you can never make a small school bigger.”
There is a place here for everyone, and everyone here finds their place. I got home late that night and found my mother reading in the living room. She asked me how my trip went, and I had a quick answer.
“Mom, I want to be an Aggie.”
I’m probably making it seem more poetic through my rose-tinted glasses, but I am so glad I ended up here. Looking back, I don’t see how I looked anywhere else. A&M transformed me in so many ways, and I have so many people to thank.
To A&M, thank you for allowing me the honor of joining the Aggie family. To Phi Delta Theta, I could not have asked for a better group of men to call my brothers. To The Battalion, thank you for allowing me to pursue one of my great passions. To my beloved family, thank you for putting up with me these last four years and never wavering in your support.
It hasn’t been an easy road. There have been plenty of late nights spent studying, emotional moments, failed tests and days where I questioned if I deserved to be here.
But there have been many more great memories. Unforgettable days spent with my fraternity brothers, hilarious production nights spent in the newsroom, classic sporting events, Silver Taps and Musters so humbling I can barely describe them and of course, countless pitchers downed amongst laughs and smiles at the Chicken.
I’ve learned so much here. From the professor who taught me about Zen-Buddhist Catholicism and the beauty in the small things to the deaf classmate who asked me to describe how music sounds to him, the knowledge I have gained both in the classroom and out has made me into a better man. That’s a debt I will forever owe this wonderful place.
I’m sitting here trying to do my best David Foster Wallace impression, but I’m approaching my word count. I can’t write enough about how much this school means to me.
So thank you, A&M. For every single moment. And thank you to everyone I’ve crossed paths with while I was here.
A wise old man once told me to always end your writing with a quote, since whoever said it was probably more famous and intelligent than you’ll ever be, plus it will make you seem smart and cultured, even when you’re not. I think this one sums up my time at A&M perfectly.
“No sympathy for the devil; keep that in mind. Buy the ticket, take the ride … and if it occasionally gets a little heavier than what you had in mind, well … maybe chalk it up to forced consciousness expansion: Tune in, freak out, get beaten,” — Hunter S. Thompson.
Thanks & Gig ‘Em.
Brad Morse is a sociology senior and editor-in-chief for The Battalion.