This Post Brought To You By the Christian Love Of Liberty University's Administration

It is with a heavy heart that I begin this post... so brace yourselves kids, when I start a blog with a statement that serious, you know something's amiss. I still can't quite wrap my head around what I'm about to say, and although I've been dancing around the possibility all summer, hoping it would never actually come to this, the breaking point has finally been reached via, dare I say, a series of unfortunate events. And so, I must finally step up and take my place in the Real World alongside the greats who came before me, Jamie Newman, Sean Harrison, Andrew Clark, and Ryan Trammell. I will not be returning to Liberty University in the Fall.

For those of you who know me (which I'm pretty sure is everyone reading this), you are aware that this is the moment I've dreaded the most since I first started college in the Fall of 2004. And even though I was able to prolong my educational experience for an extra year beyond undergrad by enrolling in grad school at Liberty, I still feel like it's been cut short because I was planning on having one more year. Of course, after having completed my Master's Degree, I would certainly have been finished; I'm not one for the scholarly scene, and my solitary year of grad school was miserable enough on the academic front. But that loss of one year really throws everything off, you know? I suppose in a certain sense it's good that it's playing out this way, because I didn't spend the whole of my last year fretting about the fact that it was the last time I would be doing any given thing, and in that capacity I probably got more enjoyment out of all those things. But the realization that I will never again get to do any of those particular things (play intramural sports, go to Scaremare and Coffeehouse, even eat at the Rot) when I had been intent on having another whole year to do all of them comes as quite a shock, and I still don't think it's really hit me yet.

For all the fond memories of I have of 8th Grade, my four years of undergrad at Liberty University were without a doubt the best times of my life. I could go on forever with stories, amusing anecdotes, interesting factoids, and references to inside jokes that I've compiled since I arrived in Lynchburg on August 15th, 2004. I think part of what made it so great was how easy the program actually was; I pretty much breezed through my Communication Studies (with a concentration in Video Broadcasting) degree and had tons of spare time for socialization. And this past year was nothing to sneeze at either; the schoolwork was hell, but socially it was great, in spite of the fact that several of my closest friends had graduated and moved on. Liberty University truly is an amazing institution, primarily because of the awesome people who comprise the student body. Actually, replace the word "primarily" in that last sentence with "only," and we have an excellent transition to my next section.

If you're wondering about the title of this post, allow me to explain. The aforementioned series of unfortunate events all began back in late May, when I ran into an unsettling situation regarding my employment for next year. I hadn't wanted to say anything directly about it via this forum until I knew for sure what the resolution of the whole fiasco was, which is actually what kept me from blogging for so long back then, but since it's all over now I might as well spill. As most of you know, I was a GA with the Coms department teaching Coms 101 to freshmen this past year, and GAs are required to maintain a yearly GPA of at least 3.0 in order to keep their jobs (hilarious side note: the minimum GPA to be a GA is the same as the minimum GPA just to graduate; you would think the requirements for holding a special position would be higher, but that's just one example of Liberty's brilliantly thought-out graduate program). Well, I ran into a few problems, so I sought help from the higher-ups at Liberty, starting with the Coms department heads. Now, I don't want to mention anyone by name, so I'm going to give all the important characters fictional names. The first response I got came from the man we'll call Dr. Michael Richards, and it was nothing short of Christ-like; that is, if you're talking about the Fake Life Jesus who just said "You screwed up? That's really too bad. I can't die for you, and though I am condemning you to hell, I sincerely hope you manage to find your own way into heaven somehow." I believe he'll be teaching a graduate course in Baptist Phariseeism sometime this fall; for those of you with no compassion and a desire to do tons of work, I would highly recommend this class.

So, of course, I climbed the chain of command, bringing me to the Obelisk of Academia and its high priest, Dr. Prasiebandsinger Handjoint. Again, I got a similar roadblock, even after explaining my situation in even greater detail to him. Apparently the phrase "I can't afford to continue my education without this job" means nothing to people who already have their PhDs; either that or they were just calling my bluff. Well boys, if this were a poker game, I'd be raking the chips in right now, cuz that was no bluff. This response, of course, is right in line with the course of action we as GAs were instructed to take when approached in a similar manner by our own Coms 101 students, and it seems rooted in some kind of extreme dishonesty paranoia. We were always told that, if a student asked for an extension of a deadline, for instance, only give it to them if we were absolutely certain they were not lying, if they had a history of turning their work in on time and could somehow prove the truthfulness of whatever extenuating circumstances they claimed. They said that we couldn't afford to make exceptions to the policies with all the people out there willing to lie just to get a better grade. That philosophy always seemed backwards to me, and as such, I essentially disregarded it. I almost always gave extensions if they were requested, because the way I see it, if a kid is lying about his circumstances, then sure, he gets a break he doesn't really deserve. But on the other hand, if that kid isn't lying, he isn't needlessly screwed over just because he can't prove he isn't lying. Boy I could go on and on about the rather surprising attitudes held by many of the GAs who supported this philosophy and the things they said and did to adhere to it, but I digress.

After being rejected by Dr. Handjoint, who told me that he had been persuaded that the decision of the department heads must stand, I had no recourse but to go to the Big Man himself, who we will call Billy Kincaid (which, as a somewhat obscure Spawn reference, actually works on three levels... bonus points if you can figure out what they are. Hint: the primary one is symbolic of his most worthwhile contribution to the running of the university). Initially, I got a response from one of Billy's assistants, saying that Billy would be unable to intervene in this situation, as that decision is up to the heads of the department, and that I should contact them with my appeal. Well, considering this was my last resort in the first place, I had already detailed my previous exploits with the department heads and basically implored him for mercy because I had nowhere else to turn, so obviously this assistant didn't bother reading much more than the first line of my email. I can't say I really blame her, because she must have to weed through tons of those kinds of emails every day. Still, "unable to intervene?" Really? A particular line from the end of Aladdin springs to mind here: "Am I Sultan or am I Sultan?" Fortunately, I was able to acquire Billy's personal email address (it's helpful to have athletes as students, they have connections), and I sent him the same message at that address. After a week without getting a response, I resent the message, and he replied not five minutes after I sent that second message, telling me that he would look into it for me. I was actually very hopeful after that, until the next day when I realized that "I will look into this" meant "I'm going to dump this on Dr. Handjoint and have him deal with it." Obviously Dr. Handjoint's mind was already made up; I had been hoping that, after I thoroughly explained my situation to Billy, he would find it in his heart to grant me an exception, but hey, what's leadership without delegation? Oh and just as a brief aside, Billy's wife, who loves the students so much and acts as an advocate for them, was good enough to never respond to either of the two messages I sent her.

So, long story short, I just can't afford to come back. Of course there are other factors involved aside from the whole GA debacle, but were it not for that, I would be able to. At this point, it's time to bring up an old turning-point-in-your-life cliche: Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) by Green Day. I always got the "time of your life" aspect, and how you regard fondly the memories you've made along whatever journey you're just wrapping up, but I never quite understood why the song was titled "Good Riddance." It seemed the exact opposite of what the song represented. But now I think I get it, having reached a truly bittersweet crossroads in my life. As I said before, I did indeed have the time of my life at Liberty, but by leaving, I'm also saying "good riddance" to all the crap, crap that mostly manifested itself in this past year through pompous academia and pretentious "scholarly" work. As far as something unpredictable that in the end is right... well, I was planning on finishing my Master's at Liberty and didn't really see this coming till mid-May, so that was plenty unpredictable, and I really have no choice so it has to be right... I guess you could say that's time grabbing me by the wrist and directing me where to go as well. I'll have to make the best of this test without asking why... blah blah blah, I could dissect the song line by line, but you get the idea. The point is, I can now look back at Liberty and say "Man, I had the time of my life there," but also say "Good riddance," which, in a way, makes my departure a tiny bit easier. So props, Green Day. As if your song wasn't iconic enough, it now has my official endorsement. I'd say you've officially made it as a band now.

Anyway, I'm gonna miss Liberty a whole lot, probably more than I've missed any institution that I've ever left. Even in the past year, when my experience was somewhat different from the experiences of the first four years, I had a great time. I thoroughly enjoyed playing Mafia with the wily women of East 7, playing Catchphrase with those same women (who were not so deft at that particular game), and every single hilarious Ian-infused round of Apples to Apples ("It's ketchup AND mustard!"). The unexpected joys of sitting on the floor in convocation, actually having a good sister dorm for once, the Starcraft Era which evolved into the Age of Empires Society and the best breakfast I've ever had, and playing Magic in the twilight hours of the year are all experiences I will look back upon fondly. And being a Coms 101 GA... while I had my gripes with the way the program was run, I really loved being in the classroom with my students. I learned a lot about the difference between simply performing the duties of a teacher and actually encouraging learning, which is much different than the academic bigwigs would like to think... but that's another story. And don't even get me started on my four years of undergrad. I had so many amazing experiences during my time on Dorm 22-3 that attempting to encapsulate them here in just a few sentences would be an injustice. I think what I may do, purely for my own enjoyment and the entertainment of those who lived through those times, is start a series of blog posts devoted to stories from those days, with each post given its own story. That could be fun. Stay tuned.

The really funny thing is, like I said earlier, it hasn't really hit me yet, and I don't think it really will until the school year gets into full swing and I'm no longer there. This will be the first time I'll experience September in New York in five years. And to be honest, while Fall in upstate New York is second to none, I wish it could have been six years before I'd seen it again. One of the most depressing things is that I keep remembering, periodically throughout the day, that I am not going back. I'll be carrying out my daily activities when I come across something that reminds me of Liberty or the people there and think "I can't wait till I get back so I can... oh wait..." and it's rather crushing, honestly. A nugget of encouragement, however, comes from the fact that I am a big boy now, and I can go back to visit if I want to. Obviously the expense of a trip between Albany, NY and Lynchburg, VA is too great for me to be coming down every weekend, but I'm gonna try my best to make it to Liberty at least once before the coming semester is out, hopefully with Andrew Clark and maybe even Ryan Trammell at the same time.

For now, though, I don't want to drag this out too much longer. If you're reading this, and at some point in the future think back to any of the times when I went off on a wildly aggressive rant about anything that happened to be bothering me at any given time, check in on this blog; there's a good chance I'll be doing the same thing for a long while in digital form. But I think I've made my point here, and that is that I sorely grieve my premature departure, and I will miss everything and everybody I'm leaving behind at Liberty. Life will never be the same. Thanks for a great time guys.

Godspeed.