An Open Letter from a 2020 College Senior

I finished my degree yesterday. I took my last exam and then I was done. I had nothing left academically to do before I would be allowed to walk the stage and hear my name.

"Christa Rahl: Journalism."

Those three words probably don't speak the volumes to you that they do to me. To me, they shout victory over reporting classes that I hated, editing classes that I loved and modules that started with 130 that made me cry.

Those words remind me that the University of Nebraska-Lincoln has been my home for four years. They allow me to reminisce on how much I have truly grown in those short years. It feels like forever ago that I was the president of Harper Hall just fighting to put some twinkle lights in the trees. It feels like ages ago that I got the email telling me I was hired as a Smith RA. It feels like a separate lifetime ago that I first met my professors that made my college the best on UNL's campus.

I had a professor with a Pulitzer that made fun of me for always fighting for my A in the class (but he gave it to me anyway). I had an instructor that saw herself in me and knew that sometimes that means I need some brownies to go with my mental breakdowns. I had an instructor that had interviewed anyone who was anyone and claimed she didn't like Trump because of his cologne.

I had a remarkable time at UNL and getting my degree from the College of Journalism and Mass Communications. But I won't hear those words this May. I won't decorate my cap with a Hamilton lyric or a T-Swift quote.

Instead, I will sit on my couch in my cap and a dress of some sort and watch my chancellor confer my degree from 45 miles away.

That breaks my heart.

College was a great time. I loved meeting my residents each year, I loved learning from those remarkable teachers but I also loved having a little fun on the side.

If you would have told me this past August that the night before I graduated college I wouldn't be dancing my bootie off at Junction, I would have blamed in on Housing. Nobody would have guessed it would be because a deadly virus decided to take over the world.

So I am missing the closure. The last time I saw my friends, I didn't say much of a goodbye because I didn't know I would need to. Now it's been almost a month since I have even left my house in Papillion.

College friends are the best. You meet them when you need them and they stick around through the thick of it because we're all going through college and the crap it throws at us together. I love the people I have grown close to in college because they've seen me at every stage.

The girls I met and got close to in college watched me fall in love, have my heart broken and then become who I am today. They have hung out with me at the bar and at the library because balance is important. But I thought I would be able to thank them and tell them how proud that they grew with me. But instead I went home on April 10 and never came back.

I will go back to my campus. I will take my graduation pictures. I may even go get my master's degree at some point. But nothing will compare to how shallow and empty this ending is for my bachelor's degree in Journalism. And I hate that.