State of the SA

When I imagined my senior year of college, I had visions of spending bittersweet time with friends, an impending sense of both fear and excitement, and a growing sentimentality for my time spent here in Searcy. I thought of the many lasts that were to come: last times sitting with my friends in chapel; last times going to Midnight Oil with intentions to study, but then seeing everyone I know; and last times as a semi-adult before being pushed into the “real world.” I imagined hugging my friends and sharing meals together, not waving at them from across a room. I imagined spending time in professors’ offices, soaking up their wisdom before I carried it into the world – not simply saying, “Hello,” as I passed them in the halls. Life looks different than what I dreamed it would be. And it would be a lie to say that I’m not disappointed with the way this final chapter of my college career is looking. You, yourself, probably feel it too. When the world abruptly — and a bit traumatically — shut down this past spring, everyone looked to the future with hope and optimism, excited for the day when we would wake up and return to life “as it should be.” As the months dragged on, though, it became increasingly apparent that perhaps this is just how life is now. When I was elected as SA president last