The uselessness of yes

Today, I wrote an article for an in-house newsletter to reflect the opinions of my professor, instead of mine, about an issue close to my heart. Writing it was one of the most difficult things I have ever done: on the one hand, there was the constant reminder I was getting from my conscience that I was going against my integrity - which I think I have - and on the other, there was the pressure of being trapped in a course that I have been regretting taking, a course for the fulfillment of which I am sufferring through such things.

I know that you're itching to say that one is never trapped and that there are always ways out, but I disagree. If I had written the article the way I'd have liked it written, my grade would've taken a beating. And as a student, as an aspiring science journalist (which only compounds the shame), as someone for whom tens of deadlines are showing up in the same week, I can't take any sort of beatings now.

The point is this: even though my professor may not be the sort of person who allows for free debate without making you feel like an idiot, the fault is mine. I solemnly swear that the next time I have to make such a choice, I will consider the possibility of going against myself before I decide on it. I haven't been afraid to say "No" before this day, but I haven't realized the difference it is capable of making.

Mistakes

Fucking stupid show in class today. Committed the worst of mistakes (started an article the way it shouldn't be) and got what I deserved. The simplest posts are always harder to write; the tough ones involve more than anything else a controlled release of opinions, and we always know what we're thinking. If we're asked to dig into the facts and pick out the most pertinent ones, we somehow don't know what we want the readers to know. That's the difference between what we want and what we need.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!