Dear King’s
What to say? I find my mind in battle. There are so many disappointments I've experienced this semester in this time of financial crisis. At the same time, you’ve given me the space to learn things about myself I never thought I’d know. You have been the common instrument in my relationships with friends I feared I’d never find. Yet, you let me down constantly. There is no simplicity in you is there? No way to sum up your impact on me in only a few words. Nevertheless, you have impacted me in massive ways.
One that comes to mind as most prominent was the 2022 fall retreat, at which I really, truly, connected with my house. We won Drama Comp King’s! Do you remember? I still do. At the announcement of our victory, we stormed the stage and jumped up and down; out of control. My throat sometimes longs to scream like that again. Pure joy; euphoria. What a wonderful memory that was King’s. For being the opportunity to make such a memory, I thank you.
Last semester I got the chance to take a few new friends to a pizza place I knew of in Carroll Gardens. I had only been there once before. The pizza was fantastic, but the conversations and laughs were simply divine. We headed back to Albee with full bellies and warmed hearts. It just so happened that we made it into an ice cream movie night. That Friday night, I felt as if I was finally in college. You made that happen, King’s. However much I wish I did it all myself, you were the common denominator in our friendships. Without you present, I know these relationships would not have occurred.
Even after those moments of pure bliss, I find myself in anguish. The Cageyness, the selective truth, the secrecy around your future, and my future with you. These things weigh heavily upon me, upon the student body, hell, upon everyone. I’m mad. I’d be lying I’d I didn’t say it: I’m incredibly upset at your handling of this financial crisis. Even now, I’m writing a letter to encourage donations. This is a student initiative. Ridiculous.
However, I’d also be dishonest if I didn’t say that a great portion of my anger is not at you, King’s, but at the prospect of your disappearance. For the truth is that I don’t want you to go under, nor do I want you to keep on the way you have. I want you to be more direct, more honest. But above even that, I want—desperately—for you to remain open; giving others the joy and growth that you have given me. I thank you King’s, for all that you’ve done for me, and I grieve the possibility of your closure: I pray that if it is God’s will, you continue to grow me, educate me, and even more after me.
In hope,
Colby McCaskill
Colby McCaskill
Empire State Tribune City Editor | House of Dietrich Bonhoeffer | Class of '26
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