—it must be in an attempt to understand someone who is sharing something

By Liana Mae Atizado, Features Writer

“I know, it’s almost impossible to succeed, but… who cares, really? The answer must be in the attempt.”

So goes my favorite quote from the movie, “Before Sunrise.” Funnily enough, I first saw this movie, which is about exploring a foreign city with a stranger, at the beginning of the pandemic when cities were shutting down and strangers had to stay six feet away from each other. This movie was all about forming new connections through genuine conversation, something that seemed impossible to achieve during quarantine. At least that’s what I thought until I started writing for The California Aggie.

The Aggie gave me a chance to sit down and have conversations with members of the UC Davis community that I would have never encountered otherwise. One thing that made me absolutely fall in love with reporting was hearing the passion in my source’s voices when they talked about causes they cared about. Their capacity for kindness and selfless devotion to serving others, especially during a time of isolation and confusion, filled me with hope. It was an honor to hear their stories and to use this platform to share them.

I was also amazed by just how many opportunities there are for students to make a difference on and off campus. After three years of attending UC Davis, I thought I had a general idea of all that the university had to offer. When I stepped into the role of a reporter for the features desk during my fourth and final year, I got to take a closer look at the different organizations and individuals that make UC Davis so unique. There are so many people who are committed to doing what they can in order to make our corner of the world better, whether that be enhancing student diversity, working on the frontlines of healthcare, providing resources to those in need or uplifting the voices of those systematically silenced.

As my time at The Aggie comes to an end, it feels as though I have barely scratched the surface of all there is to know about Davis. Still, I’m forever grateful for the chance to listen to the stories of those who care so deeply about what they do. The Aggie has deepened my love and understanding of the Davis community, and I hope they continue to do the same for others. While it’s almost impossible for every community member to be understood and for every story to be shared, I hope that staff members at The California Aggie never give up in the attempt.

Liana Mae Atizado is a staff writer for the features desk. She joined The Aggie during her senior year, in fall 2020. She is graduating with a bachelor’s degree in human development.

All I do is talk to or brag about the people in my life, so it should come as no surprise that my senior column is dedicated to them and the magical cowtown I’ve called home for these last four years

By Sabrina Habchi, Campus News Editor

Someone once told me I should look into getting a job as a filibusterer. Probably because anyone who has met me for a brief moment knows I could talk to a brick wall (not my own words, unfortunately). For once, I am speechless. I don’t know how to express my gratitude—any words I could offer don’t seem to be enough. 

I suppose I’ll start with thanking Davis for giving me my family. 

To my very best friend, Katie, I can’t believe I get to do my favorite things in life with my favorite person (you). I know for a fact we’ll be telling stories of living together at each other’s weddings, just as I know for a fact we’ll be part of each other’s weddings. Cheers to many more years of tossing, playing pickleball, skiing and snowboarding, late-night phone calls and weekend trips to see one another. I truly cannot wait until we get to travel together.

To Parker, I’m so glad we’re going to end up on the same (and correct) side of the best state. I once said I’d take a plane across the country for your next birthday—that’s still true, although fingers crossed I’ll be taking one across the world instead for your 24th. I love your stubbornness, your ability to laugh at yourself and how much you’ve grown since we were toddlers in the dorms, and I’m so excited for this next phase of our lives.

Cady, I know Greg said you’ll be lucky to keep in touch with four people from college, but I’m not too worried about it. I know we’ll see each other again and I know when we do, we’ll pick up right where we left off. Keep being your spicy, quick-witted, forgiving self that everyone around you loves so much. Sarah, Washington is lucky to have you—as am I, because I know you’ll do some cleaning up before I get there (literally, your soon-to-be spotless house and figuratively, our legislation.) 

To my Aggie family, you have become so much more than the people I work with. You have become the people I want to spend time with the most, the people I look up to and, yes, the people who have never failed to make me laugh uncontrollably four times a week (usually more). In fact, I’m smiling as I write this. 

I would say I’m going to miss Calvin’s sound effects (pew pew!), Eden’s snide comments (okay!), Margo’s ability to make me laugh with everything she says (well, you didn’t have anything else!), Omar’s wall-worthy quotes (Sabrina was pressing me yesterday), Allie’s athleticism (Calvin, get up!), late night walks with Sophie (I can’t while you’re filming me!), early morning pickleball with Anjini (the only other person willing to wake up early to play) and arguing with Maddie (a great driver). I would say I’m going to miss all of those things and more, but I know this won’t be the last time I experience any of them. In the meantime, carry on my pickleball legacy, say yes to everything because I won’t be there to convince you to have fun and don’t forget to PAY ATTENTION!

As if a family is not enough, UC Davis has given me the most inspiring people to look up to. 

To one of my first professors, Dr. Caitlin Patler, thank you for seeing something in me that I had not yet seen myself. It’s not always easy to find a woman mentor, but your accomplishments and compassion give me something to strive toward. I can’t wait to keep up with your groundbreaking research—I’m sure I’ll see future writers from The Aggie continue reporting on it. Also, go Bruins! 

To my thesis advisor and widely beloved UC Davis faculty member, Dr. Jim Adams, I have so much to thank you for, but I think I’ll start with your humor, because I’ve never laughed quite so much in any other course I’ve taken here. Beyond that, thank you for your constant guidance, incredibly kind words and willingness to help in virtually any situation. You have the rare ability of making learning so easy, I come away from class feeling like I put no effort in at all but can still recall the imperative function of the “iron cage of party discipline” in British politics a year later. I could not have produced a thesis I was truly proud of without you, and I’m certain I’ll be contacting you to produce some kind of publication in the future. 

I know I talk about being from San Diego so much that it has become a running joke in my friend groups, but Davis is and always will be one of my homes. I recently learned that senior columns are called “30s” because newspapers would send pieces through telegraphs and include “-30-“ at the bottom to signify the end of a story. Not to be cliché, but I’m not so sure this is the end of a story, but perhaps a chapter. I say that, because I am determined to be the 50-year-old woman still walking around in UC Davis gear, and I know I’ll keep so many of the connections I made here for years to come. 

I’m going to miss late nights spent at Shields, midnight runs to Dutch Bros, sunsets on top of the Hutchinson parking structure, sunrises on Picnic Day, Arboretum runs, day trips to Lake Tahoe, somehow always running into friends at the MU, playing lacrosse on Dairy Field, frequenting the iconic Farmers Market, studying at Philz, failing to connect to the Wi-Fi at Mishka’s and spending all my money at the Co-Op. 

To all my friends who have said they will be visiting me at UCLA, please know I will be holding you to it. Go ags forever.

Sabrina Habchi is The California Aggie’s 2020-2021 campus news editor. She joined The Aggie in fall 2017 as a campus news reporter. In fall 2019, she assumed the role of copy chief and served in that position for one year before becoming the campus news editor her fourth year. She is graduating with bachelor degrees in political science and psychology and with a sociology minor.

The Aggie has been here for me through thick and thin

By RebeccaBihn-Wallace, Campus News Writer

I like to think of my college experience as being bookended by two international disasters: a heartbreaking election season and a global pandemic. When I came to UC Davis in September 2017, I was deeply worried about the state of the world—and just as hopeful, as I am now, that I could do something to change it. On a more personal level, though, I was like any other college student: eager to make friends, uncertain in the bike circle and perhaps a little naive. Within two weeks of starting college, I had badly cut my knee in said bike circle—I have the scar to prove it—moved from one dorm to another and gotten used to the blistering heat of the California Delta. In spite of this rather rough landing at UC Davis, I powered through and decided to pursue my newfound fascination with politics and current events at The California Aggie in the spring of my freshman year. 

The Aggie became an outlet for my nervous and creative energies, a place where I could relax, listen to entertaining conversations and feel like a part of something important. The stories I covered have been by turns hilarious, challenging and baffling; the experience I have gained has been invaluable. When I found my heart broken and my strength being seriously tested in the middle of my second year, The Aggie was there. When the pandemic hit and life came to a standstill my third year, The Aggie was there. I missed the camaraderie of weekly in-person desk meetings and lamented the scarcity of non-COVID-19-related topics to write about; still, The Aggie was there. Working on the paper remotely this past year has strengthened my commitment to journalism, my affection for my fellow students and my sense of humor in spite of (and perhaps because of) incomprehensible global events. 

More than anything, though, I’d like to thank my amazing editors and colleagues for all of their hard work and dedication these past four years, and I’d like to remind my future self that while beginnings are hard, they often make us stronger in the long run. 

Rebecca Bihn-Wallace joined The Aggie in spring 2018 as a columnist on the opinion desk. In fall 2018, she joined the campus news desk, where she has written for the past three years. She is graduating with a bachelor of arts in studio art and a double minor in German and professional writing. 

Accepting the undeniable truth 

By Itzelth Gamboa, Arts and Culture Writer 

There is something about writing that is so painfully terrifying. Maybe it’s because we are taught with words written by grand people who actually had a story to tell. Or maybe it’s because words can be so easily misinterpreted. Or maybe, it’s because I’m so terrible at it. 

When I first joined The Aggie, I was severely underqualified. I was a second-year trying to find something to do that held significance. So I looked for an organization that involved the thing I loved most—writing. Before I was a student at Davis, I invested myself in everything I wrote; writing always had a way of comforting me. But to my surprise, my writing had failed me all of my undergraduate career up to that point. I was getting low B’s on every essay I turned in and it was killing me; my saving grace throughout my life was hurting my GPA.

So I joined The Aggie in hopes of meeting new people and bettering my writing. I didn’t realize that as I was working on my writing, I was piling up these great experiences along the way. 

There are two things that being a writer for the Arts Desk has shown me: one, that art, in all of its forms, consumes us, and two, that I am a writer. 

When we were stuck at home this past year, we watched movies to get us through the days. When we were dying of boredom, we read fiction books to escape. When we couldn’t sleep at night, we relied on music to slow down time. These past few months we’ve clung onto art like our sanity depended on it—because for the most part, it did. 

But I don’t think we take the time to appreciate all that art and artists have given us. At every period in my life, art has given me something. When I was younger, I stayed up reading until sunrise; I held onto books and characters until I unwillingly fell asleep. After I got into a car accident, the only thing that could keep me calm as I was driving was singing along to Taylor Swift’s “Lover” album. When I had a particularly rough day, I watched Disney movies for their unwavering commitment to happy endings. 

I’ve always loved art, but it wasn’t until recently that I noticed how much of my life revolved around it. Working at The Aggie, I read so many great articles from other writers on my desk. I met artists that blew me away with their work. I interviewed people that turned their art into a business. All of my interactions here really settled me in my belief that art is undervalued. We consume it in every form imaginable, but we never seem to appreciate its existence. The more I wrote, the more I realized the things I was eager to write about. I loved meeting new people who were passionate about what they were doing. I loved meeting people that took their hobby and ran with it. I loved meeting people who participated in art projects simply for the fun of it. But mostly, I loved writing about them. As horrible and difficult and exposing as writing is, I loved it. 

And yet, after all of these years writing an article week after week, I never considered myself a writer. People would ask me, “What do you do?” and I would respond with “I write.” But I never said “I’m a writer.” With that said, I’d like to take these last few lines of this article to finally call myself a writer. I unashamedly got better at writing in one of the most public settings, but hey, I got better. 

So here’s to The Aggie, the newspaper that never fired me despite my mistakes. But mostly, here’s to being a writer. 

Itzelth Gamboa is an arts writer for the arts and culture desk at The California Aggie. She joined the desk in October of 2018 and stayed in that position throughout her undergraduate career. She is graduating with bachelor degrees in sociology and communication. 

A place with a whole lotta hope, heart and heroes

By Calvin Coffee, Opinion Editor 

I came to UC Davis (almost) completely lost: no idea what I wanted to do or who I wanted to be, but I’m so lucky I found myself at The Aggie. I’ll never forget walking into the Lower Freeborn office for the first time. Once I completed the maze, the old couches and customizable walls of The Aggie (and all its people) became the most welcoming place on campus. 

Having the last year-plus on Zoom isn’t ideal, but the people I had the opportunity to work with every day made it more than worth it. More often than not, what anchored me through the day was knowing that I had my desk meeting to look forward to that night or that four times a week I would just hop on a Zoom call with some friends disguised as an Editorial Board meeting. I’ve enjoyed laughing at the fantastic humor pitches as they rolled in and marveling at the creative ideas my writers came up with every week. 

To everyone that’s been a humorist, columnist or cartoonist for the opinion desk this year, I cannot thank you enough for your dedication. Watching you grow as writers by tackling the issues and topics that matter to you has been a joy. Writing isn’t easy, it’s not for everyone, but those who are dedicated can produce stories for all to enjoy, and you all did that. 

Taryn and Nick, thank you for hiring and believing in me, letting me write about video games and all the “Game of Thrones” talk during its wild final season. Hanadi, thank you for believing in me as a writer and editor, making editing sessions a joy and allowing me to go on about the most trivial NFL details.

The wonderful editors on our editorial board inspire me every day—you are the best team I’ve ever been a part of. Anjini, Margo, Sabrina, Eden, Sophie, Allie, Omar and Maddie, I will always cherish how welcoming and enjoyable you made our Ed Board meetings on days when I really needed it. It has been an absolute pleasure working with you, but more than that it has been (and continues to be) a pleasure to call you all my friends. I can’t wait to see you all on the courts—let’s keep up that trash talk.

I am endlessly grateful for all The Aggie has helped me through, I would be lost without it. This is one of the hardest goodbyes I’ve ever had to make, my time spent with you all is one I will remember forever. So if for some reason you’re reading this and thinking about joining The Aggie, please do—you just might find the place for you. 

Written by: Calvin Coffee

Calvin Coffee was the 2020-2021 opinion editor. He joined The California Aggie in spring of 2019 and wrote as an opinion columnist before joining the Editorial Board. He is graduating with a bachelor’s degree in science and technology studies. 

By Brandon Jetter, Arts and Culture Writer 

“There is no passion to be found in playing small—in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living.”

That Nelson Mandela quote played in my head as I first applied to write for The California Aggie. Never in a million years did I think I would be writing for a campus newspaper. I was already handling countless commitments—double majoring, being on the track and field team, freelancing anywhere I got the chance—but something was still missing. l knew that I badly wanted to write for the school’s premier outlet. “Why should I settle?” I thought.

I still vividly remember my first desk meeting, waiting anxiously outside of the basement in Lower Freeborn. I was probably more nervous in those five or so minutes than I ever was in my entire collegiate athletic career. Emphasis on the probably.

Of course, as an opinion writer, you’re bound to piss some people off. My first article had just been posted, one that I thought was a safe, boringly centrist take that couldn’t possibly raise any issues. It definitely did. That was the day when I realized what it was like to have people actually read your work. 

I was lucky that when I first wrote for the Op-Ed desk, I was immediately surrounded by a phenomenal group of open-minded intellectuals. My first editors—head editor Taryn DeOilers and assistant editor Nick Irvin—were quick to show me the ropes, providing constructive criticism and objective feedback. My second-year editor, Hanadi Jordan, was a perfect successor to Taryn and Nick. She phenomenally managed the desk with an impressive breadth of knowledge as we navigated the initial virtual world of the COVID-19 pandemic. I’m thankful for how easy she made things. To my present editor, Allie Bailey, thank you for welcoming me for my brief, last quarter stay in the Arts and Culture section. I only wish we had more time. 

I am also forever indebted to Taryn, who spent countless hours with me editing my seemingly-endless spring 2019 feature piece on the Armenian Genocide. I’ve always been insecure as a writer, but it was after the piece’s eventual selection and publication in UC Davis’ Prized Writing collection that I thought, “Hey, maybe I can do this for real.” 

I’ve been in college a long time. I’ve met a lot of people. I’ve done a lot of unique things. I’ve accomplished a lot of goals—and failed at so many more. But one thing I will always cherish is my time at The Aggie. I’ll miss the thrills of seeing my latest article drop, obsessively reloading the Facebook page to see if anyone has commented yet. I’ll miss the angry responses from random students; I’ll miss the personal emails from curious and supportive readers even more.

In the end, The Aggie helped me determine who I really was. It showed me what I wanted to do with my life. With that came a wave of energy and enthusiasm I didn’t think I had. I hope I can find that same thrill in what comes next in life, whatever that may be. 

Brandon Jetter is an arts and culture writer for The California Aggie. He joined the Aggie in fall 2018 as an opinion writer and is presently writing for the arts and culture desk. He is graduating from UC Davis with bachelor degrees in political science and history and with a professional writing minor.

On to the next…

By Rebecca Gardner, Campus News Writer

As graduation approaches, I prepare to say goodbye to UC Davis as UC Davis prepares to welcome the next incoming class. 

I had planned to go to college at a UC near the beach, but I wound up seduced by Davis’ charm. When I first visited Davis and walked through the quad in the spring, I finally understood the glowing testimonials (that I didn’t believe) from alumni. 

I transferred to UC Davis pretty enthused to be at the next step, studying at a prestigious four-year university—not really understanding what being at an institution like UC really meant.

When I started attending UC Davis, we would ride our bikes to campus and freely roam without spitting in a tube. I went to giant psychology classes where we sat way too close to each other in cramped lecture halls. 

Then, school became sitting on my couch and watching lectures when I pleased. Or walking around my house compulsively doing chores listening to my professors as if they were podcast hosts.

It wasn’t until the pandemic’s peak when I took my first journalism class at UC Davis.

Journalism was refreshing and exciting. When my professor and mentor Stephen Magagnini encouraged me to apply to write for The Aggie, I only wished that I had done so sooner.

While I’ve only had the pleasure and privilege of being a reporter for two quarters, on Zoom, writing for The Aggie has certainly been a highlight of my quick time passing through UC Davis.

With little training and few credentials, I’ve been able to interview Chancellor Gary May about policing and calls for abolition on campus. I got to listen to students share how they somehow found themselves in a cult-like bible study group that preyed on their need for spiritual support at school. 

Once I exit Zoom, claim my symbolic diploma from a masked and cautiously optimistic Chancellor May and leave UC Davis, there will be new stories to tell. New task forces will be assembled to impress the next student body and re-enrage the worn out staff, but I have no doubt that the push and pull of conversation and passion of protest will continue on.  

My sweetest and hardest goodbye is to the members of Aggies for Recovery. Serving as the president of this organization, it has been my mission to build a community for students in recovery but thanks to a global pandemic and increased rates of substance use, the community, out of necessity, built itself.

I leave each meeting with a full heart and I am constantly in awe of your wisdom and compassion. My hope is that you will continue to welcome and support the next student who walks into UC Davis looking for recovery and friendship like I once did. 

Finally, thank you UC Davis for delivering to me the kindest and most brilliant pair of Alans: Alan Lawrence Buks and Allan Martinez. You are the best friends and roommates for someone who is bad with names. 

Rebecca Gardner joined The California Aggie in winter of 2020 as a campus news reporter. She is graduating with a bachelors in psychology and double minors in professional writing and human development.