Dear Editor:

Emerson once said, “Always do what you are afraid to do.”

Three years ago, I walked through the doors of South Plains College for the second time, afraid,

insecure, and older. My first attempt at the life of academia was just out of high school, but my

priorities were elsewhere. I was an avid reader; therefore, I thought I could feed my mind via the

writings of great classical authors, and that would be enough. Then one morning, a decade later,

I awoke and realized that I was literally starving intellectually.

A few weeks later, I found myself sitting in a classroom. Fearing I would walk into the wrong room, or worse, be late, I sat at a desk in the front row 20 minutes before class began, something that

would later become a sort of non-traditional-student-obsessive-compulsive-routine. My first

semester was quite fulfilling. Dr. Felker, who would later become one of my greatest mentors,

blew me away with his knowledge of literature.

I have always been happiest frolicking about in the pages of a good book. And now, my studies

consisted of reading assignments which spanned from Aristophanes to James Joyce to Cynthia

 Ozick--amazing authors, most of whom I had already read, but was now able to analyze along

with a professor who amazes me to this day. Not only because he was brilliant enough to receive a doctorate in Shakespeare, but also, he had faith in me that gave me the courage to co-author one book and publish an excerpt from a novel he swears I will finish someday.

Thank you for your vote of confidence, Dr. Felker. I acquired a fear before going into my final

English course, because I would have a new professor. I had grown accustomed to Dr. Felker, so I was developing anxieties about someone taking his place. As soon as Dr. Stephenson walked into

the room, her grace put my mind at ease. Thank you Sandra for an intellectually-stimulating

semester. Then, I had to face the two classes that I knew for certain would be equivalent to my

own personal Auschwitz: Algebra. Thank you Mrs. Driskell and Alma Lopez for proving to me that, even though math is definitely not my forte, I had the capability to escape the death sentence I faced with each equation.

Sra. Job y Sr. Ramos, gracias con todo mi alma y mi corazón. I want to especially thank you

Valerie for sending me to Oz to find my courage, which would still be buried beneath a yellow

brick. And to you Mr. Ramos, thank you for “The Giving Tree,” yet another book that will continue to touch my life until the end of time.

Now it is time to speak of a class I believe every student and faculty member should experience:

Yoga. Intrigued with India, years ago I began practicing yoga and meditation. To have the

opportunity to take yoga as a class for credit toward my degree was enlightening in itself. Thank

you Tina Lee for two Zen-like semesters, and for introducing me to Krishna Das.

I enrolled in my final physical education class, archery, not only for credit, or because I wanted

to “learn to bow hunt” like the others, but because it seemed the most Shakespearean of the

choices. Did I mention I am an English major? I absolutely love this class. Thank you Coach

Conder.

I want to thank Natalie Bryant for her smile and laughter, and her ability to help me overcome

 “most” of my social anxiety. I say most because I am currently having serious apprehensions

about walking across the stage in 20 days, nine hours, and 35 minutes, not that I am counting.

I might need to call you, Natalie, for encouragement.

Thank you Mr. Gardner for your phenomenal music selections. Although I was already a fan of

classical music, I enjoyed learning more in depth about the lives of some of my favorite artists,

not to mention listening to music each day in class was rather meditative. Allison Black, I have

never felt the passion of a particular topic conveyed so strongly as one particular lecture you

gave in the Fall of 2005. I will not mention the subject, as it is touchy for many. You brought

 tears to my eyes, and hopefully to the hearts, of those with whom I was surrounded. Powerfully

amazing. You are an artist in more ways than one. Thank you.

Now, onto the Science Building. I actually enjoyed science as a child until the day my sixth

grade science teacher laid a frog in front of me and asked me to dissect it. Needless to say, I

am now a vegetarian. Well, I fell out of love with science, but, like with many things in life, have

rekindled that love with the help of Mr. Wheeler and Kristi Dodson. I enrolled in Geology and

Botany because I love Mother Earth. Yes, I’m a flower child born a couple of decades too late. Mr. Wheeler teaches that a rock is more than aggregate or gypsum. And Kristi teaches that plants

and flowers are not only a decoration to make one’s neighbor envious. I recommend these

classes along with a good hike, ending with a dose of Edward Abbey who said, “Wilderness is not a luxury but a necessity of the human spirit.” I also want to thank Dr. Ritchie. Not only did I enjoy

his course in psychology, but his teaching of mnemonics (very useful to a continuing student who had forgotten how to study), and, most importantly, his life story. If I ever hear another petty excuse

for not studying come from one my classmates, I am sending them to you for a healthy dose of

reality. I applaud you.

One of my favorite activities at work is hosting a debate on politics. Therefore, I was excited to

 begin my government class last fall. I have learned so much about the history of politics and was fortunate enough to have a professor whose teaching style is one I hope to successfully mimic

one day. Thank you, Mr. Norris. History, I have to admit, and no offense to the faculty in the

History Department, was one class I loathed as a teenager. In fact, it took reading a book by

Dr. James Loewen, “Lies My Teacher Told Me,” to reassess my views on historical events. But

then, upon entering college, I was fortunate (a major understatement) enough to be given the

gift of one of the most intelligent men I have ever met, Dr. Carden. At one point, I was rather

worried that Dr. Carden might think I was equivalent to a 2-year-old with my numerous “why”

questions. As I previously mentioned, I was deprived of historical knowledge throughout school.

Dr Carden, however, efficiently and brilliantly answered each question I tossed his way.

I would like to thank Dorothy Weaver for her endless hugs and countless words of encouragement. You are an inspiration. Last, but certainly not least, I am forever in debt to Christina Conner. Without

 this amazing woman, I would have not had the opportunity to know all of the aforementioned

professors. Without her, my self-esteem would definitely still be in an emotional gutter. I refuse

to call Christina my adviser, for she is so much more. She has been my friend, my confidante,

and my strength. Thank you Christina.

This is my farewell letter, a letter of gratitude to people who have touched my life in the most

positive way one can imagine. I walked in doing what I was afraid to do, and now I walk away

 with a nourished mind and less fear of the world that awaits me. I do not know what my future

holds, but I have come to accept that as a beautiful mystery which waits to be revealed.

Vladimir Nabokov, my favorite author, said it best: “The pages are still blank, but there is a

miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become

visible.”