I love you, Wichita State


A journalist has the role of being a watchdog. That’s important in Washington and it’s just as important at Wichita State.

Uncovering truth and shining light has given The Sunflower, at least in some pockets of campus, a reputation for being a bunch of angsty college students bent on imploding the university.

It would be more accurate to say we are journalists commited to preserving what we’ve grown to love about Wichita State.

I love the old brick buildings, the beauty of the gardens in September, the sculptures and statues. I love the back alleys and random sights one sees when skipping Italian class to explore every nook and cranny of campus.

I love walking through the Rhatigan Student Center at lunchtime, seeing all the Greek students mingling in the middle, the Super Smash Bros. pros playing one last match near the west exit, and the smells and long line at Chick-fil-A.

I love the great friends I’ve made here, many of whom I found outside of my home domain of Elliott Hall. Some are poetry geeks, others fledgling artists. Some share my views on issues, some fall far on the other end of the spectrum. Discourse is a healthy thing.

I love the great professionals I’ve met here — from the mentoring I’ve received in Elliott Hall to the writing coaching I’ve received in Lindquist, to the relationships I’ve found all over.

Some subjects of stories I’ve written — such as Darryl Carrington, community liaison — have become more than just a subject. Darryl became someone I look up to, someone I go to for advice, someone I see as a friend. He is, to me, an embodiment of what this school is all about. Darryl and others have shaped how I view my school.

I love that I never feel like a number. I’m part of a community, one that, for me, starts in Elliott Hall and ends outside the confines of campus. I’ve learned so much about this city and its people just by hanging out on campus. I never knew a school could be such a big part of my identity.

I love you, Wichita State.