Despite an unceremonious end, this is only the beginning.

Strangely enough, I’ve always loved newspapers. As a kid, I can remember snatching the Los Angeles Times off its newsstand, flipping through the pages and skimming the black and white text for words I recognized. I remember hoarding every magazine I could get my hands on — from teeny bopper tabloids to the weekly Architectural Digest that came in the mail. 

Although I have always been fascinated by journalism and its interminable pursuit of truth, I never understood what it would mean to love a newspaper as much as I now love The California Aggie — to believe in a paper as much as I believe in The Aggie. It’s a publication that stands for so much, has achieved so triumphantly and given so generously to all who are fortunate enough to walk through its basement doors. 

The Aggie taught me to embrace everything I now love about my self — my practicality, steadfastness and tenacity. In tough situations, I learned the importance of seeking out every viewpoint in the room, never leaving a stone unturned. But my four years at The Aggie also taught me to look harder at the parts of myself that demanded I be better. To hold myself accountable and surround myself with colleagues and friends that would push me to my greatest ends. That’s what they call “growth,” I suppose. 

My growth in college can be attributed to many things — lots of different people and places that I’ve encountered throughout my time in this tiny agricultural town. It feels anticlimactic — and not at all how I imagined in my head — to graduate from university like this. I never thought I would say goodbye to people who had become my family and a place that had become my home over something as frivolous as a Zoom call or an Instagram post. This doesn’t seem like the grand finale to a chapter of my life that was most certainly grand in the best way possible. But despite how insignificant it may feel to graduate without the big ceremony and tear-stained goodbyes I imagined, I’ll still remember UC Davis in its vivid technicolor. Purple and pink sunsets, lush greenery, shady trees and twinkly lights — my secret sanctuary. I can’t thank this place enough. 

Thank you to my best friends — for us, I know this is only the beginning. 

Thank you to my housemates — for laughing with me, crying with me and putting up with me. 

To my sisters in Kappa Kappa Gamma — for seeing something in me when I didn’t see it myself. 

Thank you to my mom for believing in me — for always building me up and never tearing me down. 

And finally, thank you to The Aggie. Thank you to the basement of Freeborn Hall. Thank you to this fearless staff — to the incredible people who make this paper great. 

Thank you for everything. 

Written by: Sydney Odman 

Sydney Odman was the 2019–20 social media manager for The California Aggie. She joined The Aggie in fall 2016 as an arts & culture reporter, where she fostered her love for entertainment journalism. She then joined The Aggie’s managing staff as the new media manager in 2018. She is graduating with a bachelor’s degree in communications and a minor in professional writing. 

This column is a part of our 2020 Senior Issue. The rest of the issue can be foundhere.

Taking a moment

The first time I was caught in a bike circle during passing period, I froze. I looked around, caught another person’s tire and crashed. I remember shakily returning to the dorms, washing the blood off my foot in the communal sinks, jumping on my bike and heading back to class. College has been a lot like bike circles. We just have to go forward, trust that others are watching out for us and embrace, with unwarranted confidence, the belief that things are going to be okay. You can’t stop and there’s no time to waver. You just have to go. 

I’ve grown used to the inertia of “go” over the last four years. I’ve worked to perfect the art of roommate chore charts, Fridays at 3rd & U and balancing back-to-back midterms.

When the pandemic hit, all of our lives were brought to a screeching halt. While many of us at the time felt like this was a full stop, I realize now it was an opportunity to pivot.

It’s been an uncomfortable exercise in patience and giving up control — two things that don’t come easy to me — but I think there’s power right now in taking a moment. With pause comes reflection, and with reflection comes potential for change.

Today, I’m pages away from finishing the last chapter of my time as an undergraduate. While I was expecting backyard barbecues, popping champagne with my roommates and a moving commencement speech from Chancellor Gary May himself, what I’ll be getting instead is a much more intimate Zoom graduation and my dad making a speech at a cardboard podium.

When I entered the bike circle again with dried blood still on my foot, I didn’t have time to second-guess. I just had to go. I leaned in toward the chaos and came out unscathed. As I continued on to class, I paused and smiled. It wasn’t much in the long scheme of my college career, but it was enough in that moment. With a grin on my face, I leaned in, pedals moving, pushing ever forward.

Written by: Ally Russell 

Ally Russell has worked as a campus news writer since her freshman year. After joining the campus news desk in winter 2016, Ally has worked continuously at The California Aggie for her entire college career, only taking off one quarter while she studied abroad. Ally is graduating with high honors and bachelor’s degrees in international relations and history with a minor in human rights.

This column is a part of our 2020 Senior Issue. The rest of the issue can be found here.

The value of an idyllic college town filled with resources is unbeatable

Spring Quarter has been filled with remote instruction, working from home, virtual workouts with friends and countless zoom calls to maintain sanity. I am back in my hometown, and to make the most of it, I reconnected with old friends.

During a high school friend’s social distance-compliant birthday celebration, a mix of my old friends, who are seniors at various colleges, and their roommates reflected on our last four years. Suddenly someone asked, “Why are UC Davis students so happy?” and all heads snapped toward me, eager for an explanation.

Everyone had only heard positive experiences from friends who attend Davis. The others were swapping horror stories about their colleges while I felt a sense of pride when I realized they envied the ease and joys of my college town experience.

As I reflected on my years at Davis, I remembered that the biggest lifestyle change was the pace of life. Hailing from Los Angeles and having attended a private high school in the middle of Hollywood, I was accustomed to chaotic 45-minute commutes to and from school, car dinners, friends scattered across the city and driving myself everywhere from the time I turned 16.

My freshman year at Davis felt like a convenient dream, since everything I needed was within walking or biking distance. All of my friends lived within minutes of my dorm, and even when I moved off campus, my furthest friend was just a 10-minute drive away. The close proximity of downtown and the lush Arboretum provided a sense of community and serenity.

While UC Davis is in a small college town, it is packed with resources and bountiful opportunities. Clubs and intramural sports introduced me to a new set of friends. Spanish classes catapulted me across the world to study language and culture and connected me to my first fellow Aggie staff members. Professors were eager to help me learn — they provided me with teaching opportunities and aided my professional growth. 

I challenged myself at the start of college to join at least one new activity or club each year. I was looking for an opportunity to be a graphic designer and was fortunate that The California Aggie was hiring. Remotely creating graphics for The Aggie for the past two years meant that I did not work in person with my Aggie colleagues, but it trained me well for remote classes and work during shelter-in-place. While peers were struggling to adapt to online learning and working from home, The Aggie had prepared me to work online and to be a self-disciplined and independent worker.

I will fondly remember my years at UC Davis for its community and opportunity. Davis surpassed my expectations as a college town, and the university provided a nourishing environment to grow and prepare for the next step. And for that, I am forever grateful.

Written by: Tessa Koga

Tessa Koga joined The California Aggie in fall 2018 as a graphic designer. She is graduating with a bachelor’s degree in design and a minor in history. 

This column is a part of our 2020 Senior Issue. The rest of the issue can be found here.

I love my friends so much

I think highly of myself. I am mentally strong. I can handle stress and adversity with grace. I enjoy throwing myself out of my comfort zone. I’m emotional, sometimes to the annoyance of my close friends (you’ll know exactly how I’m feeling). I am not afraid to be vulnerable. I will drop anything to be there for a friend; people are my top priority. I say what is on my mind. I am not afraid to stand up for myself and what I believe in. I am a strong communicator. I love my style of writing. I think I’m really funny. But, at times, I expect much from myself to a debilitating degree. 

I strive toward unattainable perfection. Failure is not an option, and when it inevitably happens, I take it personally. I am competitive, which can make me selfish. I am deeply afraid of being stupid. My emotions take control of me on occasion, even making me doubt the relationships I hold so dearly. My independence makes trusting others difficult, yet I worry I ask too much from others. 

I have spent my college career attempting to figure out who I am. It’s cliché, I know, but continuously discovering this person might be one of my most important tasks. A self compass serves throughout one’s life. It seems like a sense of self is a natural product of four years in this type of environment. College is fast-paced, uncomfortable at times. It’s also so fun (which I realize is a privilege to experience), pulled in various social directions. But this goal of self knowledge, I have learned, is not achieved passively. Active introspection is essential to this feat. 

It should not go unnoticed that people are a significant part of this process. Close relationships with the right people, I’ll add. Friends who you admire, who you learn something from just by being around, who motivate you to be a better person. Friends who feel like warmth, a sigh of relief. It was not until my senior year that l began to feel I had met these people or realized their existing importance in my life. I have not laughed so hard and so frequently until this year.

Andrew, a fellow arts writer, texted in a friend group chat the other day: “Do y’all think we’re a band of misfits? Is that why this friendship works so well?” 

Andrew, to answer your question quite publicly, I think that’s what you’re supposed to feel when you’ve met the right people. A sense of us against the world, devotion and deep care for the people surrounding you. Acceptance of each other without hesitation. 

Liz, Andrew, Ilya, Cole, Jack, Carson, Nick, John, Jake, Emma, Dominic, Alex, Andreas, Jaycee and Kate: You each have no idea how much you have impacted me. You have all helped mold me into the person I am. I hope I have done the same for you. 

Written by: Caroline Rutten

Caroline Rutten was the 2019–20 creative media coordinator, in which she served as the executive producer for the Couch Concert video series she helped initiate her second year. She joined The California Aggie in fall 2016 as an arts & culture writer and has stayed at the desk the entirety of her college career. She served as the associate editor for the arts & culture desk her sophomore and junior years. She is graduating with a bachelor’s degree in sociology with honors. 

This column is a part of our 2020 Senior Issue. The rest of the issue can be foundhere.

An insatiable high

The beauty of going to UC Davis is that it is endlessly cinematic. If you know where to point the camera, you’re going to capture some of the most captivating people and stories, bar none. It’s the former that drives the latter, however, and I was lucky enough to be part of some truly mesmerizing times.

The day I knew that Davis was as vivid as any film — from the chaotic buzz of a Safdie flick to the gentle tenderness of a Godard story — was in the spring of last year. As I biked to campus in the harsh heat, my phone began to buzz, with my ringtone of Bonnie Tyler’s “Total Eclipse of the Heart” quickly intensifying. I scooped my cracked iPhone 6 and answered, still biking. 

“Hello?” I answered. 

“Hey man, it’s us,” the caller replied. 

“What’s up dude?” I quickly responded. 

“Where are you right now?” he asked. “We wanna show you this house we all wanna live in next year.” 

I stopped biking. There wasn’t just one person on the other end of the call, but three —  all guys who I met in the past year, some of my first and closest friends in Davis. All of them were calling to see if I was interested in living with them. There was no prior warning that my friends were looking for a fourth housemate, or even that they were looking for a new place in Davis. To think that they reached out to me, a neurotic Jew who can’t shut up about brutalist architecture, was a shock — in the best way possible, of course. 

After a few minutes, they picked me up and we toured the place. It was incredible. Outdoor garden, a shed, high ceilings and an actual, real kitchen. We were floored. A few weeks passed and… we didn’t get it. The guys were a bit sad about it, but I was glowing. I was thinking about how good it felt not only to be wanted, but to belong. 

I assured them we’d find another place, but even if we didn’t, I wasn’t going to be too down about it. Maybe the real four-bedroom duplex was the friends we made along the way. As I rode back home that day, the sun was setting, Frank Ocean was playing in my earbuds and a breeze picked up. It was an image that felt like pure cinema, an atmosphere that hasn’t left since. 

There’s magic in this cowtown, I tell ya. 

Written by: Ilya Shrayber

To the place where I finally found myself

I was so excited when I first stepped foot onto the UC Davis campus. Coming from Southern California, I was doe-eyed and ready for an adventure. I felt like I was always searching for something, and I followed my gut in attending UC Davis without knowing how much this campus would impact me. 

Initially, I was lost because I could not fathom how my future would pan out, let alone if I would be able to contribute to the campus in any way. I was simply trying to find myself, and in that unknowingness I kept an open mind. The void I felt then was later filled with a newfound sense of purpose and with love and lasting friendships. But it took time. 

My first year — while fun, with new friends — was also difficult. I was studying subjects that I had no interest in (chemistry and calculus), and I felt like I was trying to become someone who I am not — someone who I envisioned since I was very young. Then came a breaking point when I knew I was unhappy and decided to change course. I knew I could not come out of a maze by pushing through the same, wrong pathway each time. That epiphany to take on a different direction led me to apply to The California Aggie. 

I always found solace in words, particularly in writing. Writing allows me to think through my thoughts and express my voice. I wanted to have a tangible purpose, one outside of academics. The Aggie fit the bill, teaching me how to articulate beyond my own voice. Instead, I could tell stories and uplift others’ voices, which was much more meaningful. I became so much more invested in the Davis community, and I was starting to find my purpose: providing a voice for others. And that was exactly the answer to how I was going to solve this maze. Whichever career I ended up pursuing had to involve advocating for others through the use of words. 

I felt like my life was finally complete. I figured out my passions — what more could I want? Yet studying at UC Davis continued to surprise me. While most of my days involved speed-walking from Olson Hall to Wellman Hall and back down to the basement of Freeborn to meet with writers for The Aggie, looking back now, UC Davis holds my dearest memories. 

This campus is where I met the love of my life, on a bench right outside of the renowned Coffee House (the CoHo). This city is where I would meet up with my closest friends for deep talks at The Old Teahouse, with a side of Ohana’s to go. UC Davis will always have a piece of my heart and soul — I will never forget the place where I finally found myself. 

Written by: Stella Tran

Stella Tran was the 2019–20 city news editor. She joined The California Aggie in spring of 2017 as a reporter for city news. She is graduating with bachelor’s degrees in English and in sociology with an emphasis on law and society. 

Narrowly escaping a life in ASUCD, I could never be more grateful that I found myself at The California Aggie

Looking back, I feel like I haven’t made as big of a splash as campus news editors before me. I evaded major controversy, wasn’t in cahoots with anyone in ASUCD and didn’t have to issue any major apologies.

That doesn’t mean I haven’t left my mark. My role with campus news has been more subtle than previous editors’, but I’ve never held back on my commitment to make this campus the best possible. Nonetheless, my quiet role has also let me fly under the radar to such a degree that I sat next to two former ASUCD senators at Rajas while they talked shit about one of my own writers. 

Yes, I eavesdropped, and yes, I gossiped with my fellow editors about it. Oops!

Regarding those senators, something I’ve particularly prided myself upon is my commitment to hold the ASUCD government accountable — sometimes to a slightly hyperattentive degree. The ASUCD Bylaws are, for lack of a better word, a complete shitshow. Yet I pride myself on combing through them, trying to catch the Senate table off guard. 

In Winter Quarter, my attention to detail drew the attention of some senators. When I walked into a meeting and asked an extremely specific question about confirming an Elections Committee Chair, my writer covering the meeting later heard a senator remark, “Who even cares that much about the bylaws?”

Well, I guess I do.

Maybe this habit of mine comes from another life where I’d be applying the bylaws in a different way. After all, during my first quarter at Davis in 2015, I applied to be on the Internal Affairs Commission. Needless to say, I wasn’t hired (I didn’t even get the courtesy of a rejection letter from the person who went on to be ASUCD vice president later that year), and I landed at The California Aggie, a place I’ve called home ever since.

My goal in life has always been to try and make a better world. That includes our small campus community at UC Davis. I thought that being in ASUCD would be a way to do that. Now, I sit back and watch endless infighting, bickering, circular arguments, debates that are not germaine and ad hominem attacks cloud the ability of ASUCD officials to do their jobs and serve the students they chose to represent. 

I’m glad I escaped that world, and I’m glad I landed at The Aggie. And, to quote former Aggie Editor Becky Peterson’s own graduation column, “I’ve had the last [five] years to use The Aggie as my personal agenda-pusher,” so I’ll move onto something else.

These past five years at UC Davis have shaped me in so many ways. Major losses have been accompanied by new companions. I’ve worked hard in many jobs to serve our campus community. I now speak four languages. Y además, nunca escribí nada para este diario en castellano, aunque creo que la ausencia de esa lengua en nuestros reportajes es una gran tristeza. 

So, to end things off, I owe some thank-yous to some very special Aggie staff who have helped me along the way. Thanks, Ritika Iyer, for hiring me in the first place. Jason Pham, Alyssa Vandenberg, Lindsay Floyd, Emilie DeFazio, Bryan Sykes, Hannah Holzer, Liz Jacobson, Janelle Marie Salanga (and more): Thank you all so much for everything you’ve taught me. I would never be who I am without you, and I hope you know that I carry pieces of your spirit with me every time I sit down and start to write.

Written by: Kenton Goldsby — ktgoldsby@ucdavis.edu

Kenton Goldsby, a fifth-year religious studies and Spanish double major with a minor in professional writing, is the outgoing campus news editor for The California Aggie. He took on this position in spring 2019 and served in it until his graduation in spring 2020. Prior to that, Kenton joined The Aggie in spring 2016 as a campus news reporter. He became an associate campus editor in fall 2016 and continued in that role for the remainder of that academic year. Kenton took a year off from working at The Aggie during the 2017–18 academic year while he studied abroad in Barcelona, Spain, donde mejoró su castellano i on va aprendre el català. He returned as an associate campus news editor in fall 2018 and held that role until he became editor in spring 2019.

This column is a part of our 2020 Senior Issue. The rest of the issue can be found here.