From the Editor
I took a circuitous route through college — three schools, six majors, time off in four different states. It wasn’t the typical post-high-school path, but, despite what my parents may have thought, it wasn’t an aimless wander either.
I share the sentiment of Chris Diaz and Cutler Whitely that there’s a connectedness to things, a flow, that unfolds over time. But they’re being modest. I don’t think the path just unfolds; along the way, we have to make some choices. And if we whittle our lives down to those choices, I believe they say more about us than the path itself.
Many people experienced the events of 9/11; not everyone was moved to enlist, like Diaz. Many face the challenge of a dream unfulfilled; not all have the courage to reinvent themselves, like Whitely. Many are presented with opportunity; not all have the vision to embrace it, like Kathleen Reardon And though many find themselves on a path that no longer feels right, few are willing to redirect, like Brent Luvaas.
It’s not only our experiences that make us unique, but also how we respond to them.
I kept coming back to Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” as we were putting this magazine together: “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I …” Those defining moments in life when we pick one path and say goodbye to another — those moments intrigue me. We do this on a smaller scale almost daily. We make a choice about who we want to be, how we want to treat people, how much we want to give. Those small choices — the way we walk the path — they matter too.
It turns out, Robert Frost wasn’t trying to write an inspirational poem about free will and destiny. He laid two paths, “worn really about the same,” and we saw in the poem, in the moment, what we wanted to see: inspiration. And that makes all the difference.
All the best,
Amy M. Weaver
Executive Director, Marketing & Communications
College of Arts & Sciences