"Take It From Me" Part I

As the school year comes to a close, the Student Movement section editors share important lessons they've learned this year.

Nothing. I learned how to do nothing. To be clear, I don’t mean I haven’t learned anything. I have! I’ve learned how to live far away from my family, how to learn a new language, and how to persevere through every grammar class (If you don’t think a Spanish verb is irregular, you just haven’t learned enough tenses yet). What I mean is I simply discovered that sometimes it is ok to do nothing. For a bit of context, I have spent this year studying in the Adventist Colleges Abroad program in Argentina at the Universidad Adventista del Plata. From the moment I arrived, I noticed that the student experience here certainly rhymes with the university life I was used to, but with a twist. Yes, students work incredibly hard, with long hours of class time and studying, but there is something else. Mate. As many from the south of the American continent will tell you, mate is an herbal drink, but more than that, it’s an experience meant to be shared with friends. Many students, teachers, and community members can be found on school grounds, public benches, or one of the many town parks, sipping mate with friends as they do “nothing” together. This drink, and the culture surrounding it, gives a taste of just how serious the ideas of rest and self-care are in the small Argentinian town I am studying in. It extends to our many “feriados,” or holidays, and the fact that many stores are not open between 12:30 and 4:30 in the afternoon (And if you arrive at 4:30, you’re too early). After everything I have learned in Argentina, this is one of the most important. Sometimes, it’s ok to just do nothing.
Chris Ngugi, Pulse Editor

Weirdly enough, I learned how to write. Don’t get me wrong—prior to becoming the A&E editor, I knew how to write. I knew how to let the words flow out of me onto paper and I knew how to write with an academic’s flair. I knew the difference in tone for personal essays and research papers and a journal article. However, each writing project still felt like climbing an insurmountable mountain. You see, I have a very unique writing style—I can only write when I feel like it. This has been very problematic for me in the past—in fact, I infamously had to rewrite the 50% of my grade, 8-page Western Heritage worldview paper in ONE DAY because the vibes just weren’t right for my first draft. This difficulty has made accomplishing anything writing-oriented near impossible for me. I have a million unfinished screenplays and stories, and completing any project requires an external deadline. However, this year really changed all of that. Writing a weekly column for the Student Movement pushed me so hard. I was writing last minute, trying to eke out every drop of creativity that runs through my veins. Not only did I have to come up with fun and engaging topics (it took me a semester to figure that out), I also had to learn to write through the writer’s block. So when I say, I learned how to write, I suppose what I mean is that I learned how to write, at any time, at the drop of a hat. Now, this is all to say that you should write for the Student Movement too. I know I might be biased, but even if you don’t consider yourself a good writer, writing regularly pushes you and the kind feedback of the editors makes you better. Writing is an important life skill–learning to convey your emotions and stories into clear and concise words is incredibly useful in the long run. Choose to push the edges of your box next year, step out of your comfort zone, and come write for the Student Movement. I can promise you won’t regret it.
Solana Campbell, Arts and Entertainment Editor

This year I learned to be more aggressive. I use the word aggressive because although "confident" might seem more of a desirable trait, I don't think confidence is something I was lacking before, and what I really learned to gain was something like drive or ambition. A lot of my friends describe me as easygoing, and I wouldn’t disagree with that at all. For a long time I considered myself as a very passive person, which I have come to realize isn’t actually my ideal. As I began the new school year, I learned that if I wanted something, whether academically or in friendships, I had to actually go for it. I think that this happened as a result of busier schedules and the closer looming threat of post grad life which meant that friendships got harder to maintain and classes became more serious. Even with close friends, sometimes we hesitate to reach out first because we’re each so scared of coming off too strong or looking weirdly clingy—and all of these worries get a hundred times worse when we’re trying to make new friends (at least for me). But, I decided that this year I wouldn’t let myself be held back by such conventions, even if it meant taking the occasional rejection. When it comes to things like personal relationships with the people around us, I've learned that it's best to put in more effort than less, not taking friendships for granted. It's easy for these things to slip by during busy weeks, and weeks quickly turn into months, which is why this year I really wanted to make sure that I was continually pursuing my connections with my friends actively. It does take work to keep these things going, but I don't think that's a bad thing! Striking up the first conversation might seem daunting but I promise it'll pay off. I wouldn't be as close with a lot of my friends today if I had been too afraid of texting first or being too friendly. And if it's any comfort, my experience has led me to believe with a pretty high degree of certainty that other people are just as hesitant to reach out—and it pays off to be a little more "aggressive."
Grace No, Humans Editor

This school year, I learned the importance of being forgiving—particularly when it comes to myself. For my entire life, I have always been someone who put a lot of pressure on myself to succeed in everything I do. Most often, this surfaces within the world of academia—since most of my life thus far has been centered around school. In the classroom, I always push myself to be the overachiever. If a professor assigned a paper to be 10 pages long, I would write 17. If the assignment was to write a discussion question on a reading, I would submit a paragraph with building, intersecting queries. While I do think that much of this over-achieving stems from my love of learning, I will also readily admit that sometimes I over achieve because I want other people’s approval. If I try something and realize I’m not immediately good at it, I’ll just quit in order to avoid letting anyone (let alone myself) down. However, as a senior, I have begun to realize the importance of giving myself grace. Sometimes I simply don’t have the physical, mental, or emotional energy to go above and beyond. And that’s okay. As my Mom often tells me, “sometimes you just need to draw the cat” and not try to become the next Michalengelo. That being said, I don’t use that as an excuse not to get done what needs to be done. But ultimately, my health and well-being are much more important than any assignment. Will this stop me from going above and beyond? Not at all, nor should it. However, sometimes it’s okay to simply fulfill expectations instead of exceeding them.
Alexander J. Hess, Ideas Editor

As the Rascal Flatts sang in “Cars,” I learned that “Life is a highway.” To keep the driving metaphor, this academic year I’ve had to slow down and change lanes. As a matter of fact, for most of the year, I’ve been one of those annoying drivers that like to drive between lanes. I have had my sights set on being a doctor since I was 12 years old, and I entered Andrews thinking that I would be graduating in four years to continue my journey in medical school. But this year I’ve had to question my motivations behind pursuing a career in the medical field. I’ve had to interrogate my inhibitions and assess my strengths and weaknesses. I realized that I found my worth in my career path. One night, when my anxieties about leaving the pre-med track were wracking my mind, I told my friend, “I feel like I’m abandoning the Terika I was meant to be in the future. I feel like I owe it to future me to keep on going.” She responded, “Terika, that future you doesn't exist yet.” These words were like a car honking at me. My future is not set but my agency and decisions in the present are actively carving out my future. The great thing about the chorus of “Life is a Highway”  is that it has advice on how to deal with life being a highway. The famous line “I’m gonna ride it all night long” has informed my new perspective on life. I think this is the hardest part of the lesson I’ve had to learn. This line has inspired me to keep on going and trust God even though I don’t know what I’m doing on the highway in the first place. As the semester comes to a close, and my undergraduate career winds down, I’ve learned to simply put on my indicator, check the side view mirrors, and move over.
Terika Williams, News Editor