We tend to complain a lot about politics. There is an incredible amount of pessimism that persists in every discussion. We perceive Congress and our government to be a constant source of pointless bickering, trickery and sycophancy. To a point, we may be right. Sometimes, however, I think those in public service deserve more credit.

The epigraph of E.M. Forster’s “Howards End,” which reads “Only connect…” could serve as a statement of purpose for many a writer. This may hold especially true for writers of personal narrative.

As one such writer, it was my privilege and pleasure to spend a day and a half with Baylor journalism students discussing the subset of creative nonfiction called memoir.

This morning, I received an email from the Cashier’s Office. After the normal, mini panic attack I had, featuring questions like “Oh gosh, did I miss a payment?” and “Are they about to kick me out of school?!” I actually read the email.

The email informed me I was no longer allowed to use BearBucks off-campus. I disregarded it and tossed it in the trash, going on with my daily routine.

As Baylor students, we have a few things to be proud of in our response to the West tragedy. We can be proud of students, faculty and staff who volunteered their time in the wake of the blast to help, who stood in line hours to donate blood, who gave supplies.

I’ve always wanted to change the world, and I thought that coming to Baylor would give me the right tools to go out and make a big impact. I’m a communications major, so I’m not going to cure any diseases over the course of my career, but I thought maybe I could make enough money to make a significant donation to help find a cure, or save up enough money to open up an orphanage in another country.