Just so that all of us are clear, including myself: this will be the last article that I will write for the Odyssey.

I have to understand that I am forcing myself away from writing here. I have used this medium to express my opinions; some of them off-the-cuff, many of them disenchanted and bombastic. However, I believe that all of them have been honest. This article will be no different.

A fact that I am still coming to terms with as we finish out finals week is that I will be graduating from Wabash soon. It is also a fact that I will be graduating as a triple major. A subset of that fact is that I will not receive honors, and will not graduate with Distinction.

That time flies, and also that growing up sucks, are two very real facts of life. If it be so obvious, growing up in an environment like Wabash is both challenging and transforming. Your intentions and aspirations can change entirely.

Coming up to my senior year, I remember my dad telling me that if I had went anywhere else, I would have had to be the best to get where I wanted to be. He told me that when I came out of Wabash, there would be someone who would have higher marks, be more involved, or have more connections than I would. However, he assured me that I would get somewhere because of the education.

I have recounted that assurance with a lot of cynicism recently. I have felt anger; I have felt disappointment; and I have felt jealousy.

I am angry for believing so strongly that it is more about what you know, and not also about who you know. I am angry with myself for not taking advantage of more of what Wabash could've given me. I was more naïve and lazy than I wanted to believe.

I am disappointed that I will not graduate with honors. Some fellow senior perhaps would say that this is a trivial thing. He would bring up my triple major, and tell me I'm selling myself short. To that, I have no regrets with the work that I have done in the classroom. However, the feeling that I still have is that I could've done more.

I am jealous of one of those friends who earned Distinction in History. I am jealous of those who have a prospect of what they'll do after they graduate. I am jealous of those of us who seem to have it figured out, because I don't.

There are realities that have compelled me to be critical of the College when it has seemed to err against its professed ideals. I still believe that a segregation between students exists. A misleading perfection narrative is still in place here. Many of us still believe we are invincible.

However, I can't help but feel that I have unjustifiably devalued what I have done at Wabash, and the relationships that I have formed here, by being cynical.

My first Delt faculty dinner opened my eyes a little bit more. I realized that others also don't have it all together, but have gotten to where they are now either by faith or tenacity. I found that the faculty, even the professors who are liable to have a few with you one day, and then grill you the next, care about us and where we want to be.

I was properly roasted, too. I was called both a "grandfather" and an old man; called a "left-winger" because of my outbursts on Facebook; called out for switching out my Wabash fisherman hat because a tear showed my bald spot. My Delt brothers showed me respect, and demonstrated that they were paying attention.

There were simple interactions that made me think twice. A sophomore told me that I sold myself short by comparing myself to another senior. Dr. Blix listened intently as I relayed my regrets, while laughing at my dry humor. I shared a hug with one of the professor's wives.

Then there is the football player/rhetoric major (I have it right this time) I worked with last semester, willing to talk honestly about our struggles; my German professor who is comfortable talking about his rock music as much as he would about Goethe; the rhetor who has kept me grounded.

If you were to look hard enough, as I have tried to do now, you would see that this is Wabash. I don't think that it is so much being sentimental, as much as this reflects the Wabash Truth.

We lost the Monon Bell this year. We had two students pass away under tragic circumstances. Wabash did not always have it together.

I'm liable to believe that such realizations don't reflect the whole truth. I still have confidence that we do have a brotherhood that binds us together. I would like to think that we can always work together, and not just when it's convenient. I still believe that Wabash always fights. I believe that it is the people who make Wabash what it is, and that what it gives to its students is reciprocated through them.

The end lies near for us seniors. Have we all made Wabash worth our while? Have we learned to recognize those truths? Will we be enthusiastic to come back to our alma mater? Will we humbly give back what we can as alumni? Will we all contribute to ensure that Wabash provides to its future sons?

If you hold up your end, you best believe I'll hold up mine.