Sophomore year, I decided to give it a go at writing in The Captain’s Log. Admittedly, this decision was more based off of my addiction for “Sex and the City”—if fictional Carrie Bradshaw could maintain all the glitz, prestige, and men by writing one sentence columns, then so could I. So I wrote for a while, but sophomore year became more about research papers than covering bands and I knew I couldn’t juggle the two. But I decided to keep my little experience on my resume regardless; at least I could talk about meeting deadlines and staying organized to my potential employers.
However there was one blunder. In a recent interview I had for a summer internship, the interviewers and I talked more about the possible implications of the name captain’s log, than my actual experience itself. As one of the interviewers aptly put it: “I’m sure the school newspaper isn’t the first thing that pops up in Google.” I played it cool, but I was embarrassed. How could something I worked hard for be suddenly turned into a chintzy joke?
Words, I realized, matter. They promote social movements and change; they propagate powerful legislation; they literally change history. And of course: it’s never what people say, it’s what other people hear. So what’s my point? I’m not asking for social change. I’m not even gregariously demanding that the newspaper change its name for propriety’s sake. I’m merely suggesting that the words we use have deep significance. The whole debate over whether Captain Chris is a pirate or privateer should serve as an example. In short, choose your words wisely, lest they become center of a wisecrack.
Junior Kaitlyn Borysiewicz