1 day Ago By Julianna Morales, Features Editor
Four years ago, when I was a first-year college student re-entering the social world after a year and a half of the COVID-19 shutdown, I went around the club fair and added my name to any club list that sounded even remotely interesting, many of whom I never interacted with again. However, one really stood out among the bunch: The Fordham Ram. Despite my enrollment as a psychology major, I’d always loved writing.
It had always been a place in which I thrived. With the encouraging words of a former English teacher, I was set on trying journalistic writing in college, something completely different from what I’d done in high school. When I submitted my first article only weeks into the school year, I had no idea what I was doing.
I asked the editor countless questions, received numerous edits and thought maybe I just wasn’t as good at writing as I’d thought. I sent my parents a picture of my first article’s place on the front page and, in the true fashion of a father forced to watch “Gilmore Girls” all too often, received a “Way to go, Rory” text from my dad. Despite the encouragement, I couldn’t help but feel like I should’ve been able to do everything just right on the first try.
Nevertheless, I picked up another article. This one I was more confident in, and sure enough when it was published, barely anything needed to be edited. I started attending the copy-editing nights myself and learning the ins and outs of all the goals I needed to achieve as a writer.
I loved everything about it, from writing to meeting the staff and other members to reading everyone’s articles. I loved seeing the printed papers distributed around campus on every Wednesday and picking up a copy of every single one, whether I’d written in it or not. The end of the semester came around, and the applications to join the staff came out.
I looked at them, thinking how cool it would be to be to get a role on staff, then closed the application. It was only my first semester, and I thought for sure they’d want people with more experience; I’d stick with just writing. When the fall semester of sophomore year ended, the applications had once again been sent out.
Again, I looked at it, convinced myself I wouldn’t be good enough and closed it. However, in my junior year, something changed. The news editor at the time emailed me, saying she’d noticed I’d been a part of the Ram for a while and wondered if I ever considered joining staff.
That was just the push I needed to finally submit the application, and I’m so thankful for it. My time being the features editor has been some of the best of my time at Fordham. I get to work with the best people, make amazing memories during late production nights, and be a bigger part of something that has been so important to my college experience.
The only thing I regret is that I let my own self-doubt stop me from experiencing it more. Oftentimes, I think the fear of rejection is worse than even rejection itself. And many people, myself included, are so terrified of hearing “no,” that they decide it’s better to not even try.
We think that if we’re not perfect or 100% confident that it’s worth the risk; I’ve learned now that’s not true. It’s okay to be out of your comfort zone. It’s okay to not learn something instantaneously.
Most importantly, it’s okay to try something that might not work out. You never know: it could work out better than you ever expected. When I graduate this coming spring, I will look back on the four years I spent here at Fordham with incredible fondness for all of the experiences I had with the Ram.
I will also have utmost happiness that I did not end up letting my fear hold me back forever..
