Farewell Column: 14 minutes and 35 seconds.
14 minutes and 35 seconds.
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14 minutes and 35 seconds.
My parents always encouraged me to play a sport throughout my childhood. My mom loves to boast about how she was a track star, and my dad loves to reminisce about his days on the baseball field.
I started working at The Daily Tar Heel during my first year of college. COVID had taken any semblance of a traditional college experience from me, and I schemed of ways to stay connected to a campus I had barely stepped foot on.
Hard conversations used to scare me.
I never liked farewell columns when I was at The Daily Tar Heel. They always seemed too self indulgent — no offense to my wonderful peers that have written plenty of these over the years — considering that most of our readers don’t know or care about who is producing the news they read.
This year was not easy.
At UNC, and likely other prestigious universities, there is unnecessary pressure to secure a summer internship opportunity.
Editor's note: This article is satire.
It’s difficult to make criticisms of those who are on the same moral side as we are. We are group-oriented creatures, bound to those who we feel are trustworthy and those who fight for our causes. Exacerbated by a hostile political climate that forces movements to radical places on the political spectrum, our own polarization often gets the best of us, causing us to view all progressive ideology as good and all conservative ideology as bad, or vice versa.
As an incoming freshman, two hours away from all I have ever known, move-in day was terrifying. I was leaving my comfortable room and moving into a 13’ by 15’ shoebox with a girl I barely knew and six new suitemates. Not only was I leaving behind my friends and family, but I was an only child who had never lived with another person my age before, let alone seven. Although the adjustment period had its ups and downs, living in an eight-person suite ended up being the best part of my first-year experience.
It is usually a relatively enjoyable experience to see a recap.
My feelings about The Daily Tar Heel are complicated.
When I ran for editor-in-chief last spring, I thought I knew what to expect. I knew the responsibility of leading The Daily Tar Heel meant late nights, too little sleep and too many cups of coffee.
On a typical day on Polk Place, chaos is inevitable. As you walk on that diagonal path, someone stands behind a table handing out donuts and free coffee. A group of girls in bandanas and bohemian skirts presents knitted frogs and plushies. A preacher shoves a “Jesus Loves You” pamphlet into your hand. You may even find yourself offering your soul and social security number for a “free” chicken sandwich.
As the academic school year comes to an end, it is valuable to take a step back and reflect on the past year. Whether you're about to graduate and conquer the real world or you just arrived at UNC this year, reflecting on each year helps you observe how much you have accomplished and how much further you have to go.
I am not a writer, nor have I ever been for The Daily Tar Heel.
It is slowly starting to hit me that it is all coming to an end.
It started with a mini bubble gum machine, a disco ball and a small green stegosaurus.
My mom has kept a stack of newspapers for as long as I can remember.
This past month, I’ve been preparing for my upcoming summer job. While filling out the onboarding paperwork, I have come face-to-face with a harsh reality: my knowledge about finances is severely lacking.