High School Graduation Speech

I’d like to begin this post with a quote. As every person who has ever given a graduation speech once said, “I’d like to begin this speech with a quote.”

This weekend I returned home to play the role of Proud and Supportive Sister in the production of Some More Kids Graduate High School. Which includes lots of photos, stress, and discomfort (at least for a thriving social butterfly like me). And of course the speeches. I’ve been to four graduations in four years, so I’ve heard my plenty of speeches and to be fair, I feel none the wiser. Of course, this could just be my own deficit produced by some combination of self-importance, snarkiness, skepticism towards authority, and taking everything with a barrel of salt.

Now most graduations I’ve seen include at least a commencement speaker – someone role-model worthy – that’s been chosen by students to share wisdom about College and Adulthood and Life. Then there’s the valedictorian who is already Smarter and Brighter and Holier Than Thou who gets to give a speech to their peers about how high school was Really Hard but now they all have a Special Bond. (Also, I had to look up how to spell valedictorian, which explains why I wasn’t one.) Finally, the head of school gets up and makes some pop culture references to seem relevant and tries to validate the four years of hell that is high school by telling the students that they have Made It.

You might be thinking this is going to be a very cynical and self-indulgent post. I just want to assure you that you’re not wrong.

The Side Effects of Indecision

I feel most markedly defined by my indecision. In my small, over-achieving, collegiate universe where worth is measured by success and success is measured by A’s and who’s kissing you at 2AM, I’m a little nervous. I’m a little on edge. I’m a little anxious and the side effects of this anxiety include an overactive gag reflex and maybe being a little too candid in my writing. My indecision is a side effect of remarkable opportunity coupled with staling indecision. And the side effects of my indecision?

The Art of Being Impressive

I have a sickness I carry with me every day. It’s an impenetrable dark cloud that looms over, in front, behind, and within me, but I don’t tell it to go away. It’s a sickness I can’t cure because it’s the only way I know how to work. It’s the only way I know how to function. And there’s a good chance you have it too.

I would estimate that on a day to day basis, at least 75% of the people I interact with don’t feel like they’re good enough. Maybe not in anything specific, but in general. Maybe in everything. And I’m one of these people.

Diana’s Declassified College Freshman Survival Guide

May is here and so is summer break. My first year in college was fun and enlightening, but also taxing at times. I learned a lot of things about myself, others, and how we interact with each other, and living on my own for the first time (albeit in a dorm with a roommate) forced me to pay more attention to my thoughts and behaviors so I could take care of myself better. Here are a few things I picked up and would like to share with anyone wrapping up high school and entering college soon. I hope it helps make your transition smoother.

An Open Letter to Frat Boys

Apparently, I am a GDI. A God-Damn Independent, otherwise known as someone not involved in social Greek life. Because I guess despite not being in a sorority, I still need to be characterized by three arbitrary letters.

I never seriously considered joining a sorority. I suppose I was turned off by the general atmosphere of inherent misogyny, internalized sexism, dependence on classism, and perpetuation of unhealthy power dynamics. However, most of my friends are involved in Greek life, and I love and respect them just the same. I’ve learned to see the benefits of Greek life and know that not all sororities or fraternities fit the stereotype as intensely as others.

My good friend who is in one of the most “popular” sororities on campus shared with me a paper to proofread entitled An Open Letter about Feminism in Greek Life that directly addresses frat boys and the ways they communicate with sorority girls. It was incredibly powerful and interesting for me to read about feminism in this context from an insider’s point of view, and I’ve received permission to publish her paper anonymously here! I am sure you will be just as engaged in her paper as I was, and I am excited to see discussion inspired from it.

Here it is below.

Starting Your Semester Right

Most of my college friends are a bit luckier than I am because their winter break is longer and semester doesn’t start until later. But I joined my fellow UMich students yesterday to begin the winter semester. We are getting a very enthusiastic greeting from Michigan winter weather with snow storms, ice, and temperatures that make my eyelashes freeze and cheeks sting. All that aside, I’m really optimistic for this next semester and am doing all I can to start off on the right foot. Here are some tips that I’ve picked up and have helped me a lot in the past.

Making Your Dorm Your Home

A lot of things about college are exciting. Intellectually stimulating classes, a variety of clubs, new friends, and more freedom. But if you’re a freshman like me, you probably experienced something a little less than excitement seeing your dorm room. I mean, ideally it’s exciting to have a blank slate and customize your living area, but actually seeing the hospital-esque lights and less-than fantastic floors or carpeting is sort of discouraging. But I personally crave alone time and absolutely need a space I can call my own. My roommate Jenna and I were determined to turn our dorm into a home and still love our room! Here are some tips on how to maintain a comfortable and personalized environment in your dorm!

Bleeding Maize and Blue

I love college. I love my classes, my friends, my clubs. I love Michigan. And I love game days.

I never expected to love game days. One year ago I would’ve scoffed at the idea of spending entire Saturdays rooting for a game I didn’t understand, for people I didn’t actually know. I tried participating in sports when I was younger, but my lack of hand eye coordination, general laziness, and poor athletic ability made me value a lot of different activities over sports. Sure, athleticism, agility, and strength are admirable qualities that I wish I had, but I’ve known for a while that my strengths lie elsewhere. In high school, I was always involved in student government, service organizations, and leadership clubs, but I never felt like I fit in at sporting events or even spirit assemblies. I’ve never really been one to hop onto the bandwagon of calling my school “the best,” getting competitive, and considering my school an essential part of my identity. When I came to the University of Michigan I was really apprehensive about the school’s focus on sports and obvious school pride (which, to be fair, isn’t unusual for universities). I predicted I would spend game days watching Netflix and scoffing at the nonsensical enthusiasm for throwing a ball around. I didn’t get the obsession with the block M and the colors maize and blue. So when my dad and upperclassmen friends encouraged me to purchase season tickets for football, I was really apprehensive.