The key to navigating YouTube is having the power over it. The algorithm, thumbnails and titles are there to convince you that you have to watch a particular video, and you need to be aware that you actually don’t. In the end, the most important thing that being without YouTube taught me is that I don’t need it. It’s just fun entertainment.

In just a few days, Baylor’s 116th celebration of homecoming will commence, ringing in all the craziness and excitement that comes with it every year. Events like Pigskin Revue, the parade and the football game are long-awaited and long prepared for, with students putting in the work toward these events for months prior.

Homecoming is a celebration — a time to gather, get to know one another, share ideas and memories and have fun. Ultimately, I always knew that homecoming was an opportunity, but I never knew it as a blessing until COVID-19.

Slapped on the side of Brooks Residential College, the words, “To you I hand the torch,” are for many, the extent of knowledge on Samuel Palmer Brooks’ Immortal Message. But Homecoming is a better time than any to remember the story behind those words: they’re a message of hopefulness and responsibility, even when the times around us are full of uncertainty, struggle and death.

What we post and how we curate our online presence feel like who we are. But the danger lies in how quickly we assume someone’s feeds tell the whole story. We should not be concluding someone based on what they consume or post.

It’s easy to dismiss elections, especially the smaller ones. Voting is regularly inconvenient, rarely straightforward and every ballot seems to be drenched in roles, propositions and names. If we want support, representation and protection from our state and nation, we have to take the time to communicate. Voting is the first step in that.