If you talk to anybody who knows me well, they will tell you I live in a little corner of the Crest apartments called Stressville.
I love too many organizations, too many classes, too many people and stretch myself way too thin. Recently, I have been asked why I don’t drop the organization that takes up a lot of my time, which just happens to be The Pendulum.
“You’ll have more time for fun!” they say. “You can party more! Go cray-cray! You can hang out and relax and chill!”
Well, sure. I could stop reporting and forget all the amazing people I have worked with for the past two years. I could stop going to extraordinary events I probably wouldn’t go to otherwise. I could stop feverishly transcribing and writing leads over and over again into the wee hours of the night. And sure, I could give up the little spark of pride in my chest when I see a byline that reads “Stephanie Butzer” in the newspaper. Easy peasy.
I couldn’t imagine my college years without The Pendulum. With exceptionally knowledgeable and open people, it seems impossible to step away once you’ve been a part of it. It’s what defines my Wednesday evenings. It’s simply another organ I need to keep moving.
That’s not to say there aren’t definitely times when I struggle. It isn’t unusual for me to get stuck while writing a piece and reach out for help. And although it embarrasses me to admit it, there have been occasions where I have to lock myself in my room to finish an article while a party rages in my own living room. Ask my roommates. They think I’m crazy.
But professional reporting and photojournalism have always been what I reach for and The Pendulum is lifting me higher and higher each week. It’s the first stepping stone I’ve truly taken to go in the direction I was supposed to go.
When I get to where I want to be (wherever the heck that is), I know I can look back on those hours of staring at a blank page or talking to a yes-no-answers person or long nights in the library and thank everybody who taught me how to report and write.