Author: Kevin Alkins

I start every column I’ve ever written the same way: brainstorm first, then byline, then I jump right in and just write whatever comes to mind.

This is going to be the last column I ever write for The Transcript. I usually only write these pieces because we need a space to fill, but this time is different. This time it’s personal.

I’ve written for The Transcript since the first semester of my freshman year, and I’ve been an editor for the last two years.

Even if I knew how to do math above a third grade level, there is no way to calculate the amount of late nights I’ve put in working in the Transcript office, writing last-minute, pathetic excuses for articles desperately trying to fill space.

It’s amazing I have any remaining friends for how much ranting and venting I’ve unleashed on them, blabbering on and on about faulty technology, intense ethical decision making and embarrassing editing errors (special shoutout to my infallible roommate, Maria, who always knows when I need a hug … and a bottle of wine).

With all the difficult parts of my job in mind, I was worried that when I started brainstorming for this column, it was going to come out like a whiny sob story. But then I got to my byline, and I realized that this is going to be the last time I refer to myself as the Editor-in-Chief of The Transcript.

I realized next week is the first week in two years where I don’t talk to Hannah Urano or Noah Manskar at least three times each day. I realized that I’m never again going to have our department chair, Paul Kostyu, pinch my arm and tell me to “grow a thicker skin” in response to some angry email I got that morning. I realized that the biggest part of who I’ve been on this campus for the last year is over. And I started crying a little bit.

Being the editor of the paper was hands-down the most challenging task I’ve faced at Ohio Wesleyan. From the moment I came on as editor to now, there has never been one perfect issue. There’s been no day where I left the office thinking, “Eureka!” There has never been a day where I walked out of the office thinking, “There is no way I could make the paper more perfect.”

I had to learn to let go of what I coudn’t control, and to depend on my fellow editors. None of us have an easy job, but it’s worth it.

We do this because we truly believe in a student-run newspaper. We love journalism, and we want to see it practiced on this campus. While we’ve defintitely improved our aresonal of journalism technology, we are still behind and struggle to find new writers, photographers and editors. We are a small department that has a long way to go, but we always push through. From dependable professors abruptly leaving, new professors coming on board and fundamental changes to our cirriculum, our little major has seen a huge overhaul in the last two years.

In short, no part of my career in journalism at OWU has been a cake walk. But because of that, I’m confident in saying The Transcript taught me so much more than anything else I’ve ever done. I doubted myself every step of the way as the editor for The Transcript, and now it’s over.

My emotional state is a mixed bag of pure joy and relief, as well as sadness and nostalgia. I have no idea what I’m going to do without it, but I do know that I’m going to miss it.

I never thought I would hear myself say it, but it’s true. I have the tears to prove it.

The last time a high-profile political figure ate at Bun’s Restaurant on Winter Street, he certainly didn’t talk about the dangers facing women should we lose the right to make decisions over our own reproductive systems.

It might come as no surprise that I did not attend the rally for Mitt Romney at Bun’s during the 2012 presidential election. From his stance on health care to his horrible white-ombre sideburns, there really aren’t too many nice things I have to say about the former governor of Massachusetts.

But it wasn’t all about poor Mitt. No, bad politics could never keep me from eating. But yours truly eats gluten-free, making Bun’s, a restaurant named after bread, a less than ideal dining option.

However, when I was offered the chance to have dinner there with Connie Schultz one of my field’s icons and an all-around badass, the scary possibility of ingesting gluten didn’t even cross my mind.

If you haven’t heard of Schultz, you should really look her up. She is a Pulitzer Prize winner, a nationally syndicated columnist and the author of two books. After raising her daughter as a single mother while climbing the ladder of success at the Cleveland Plain Dealer, Schultz found herself a man actually worthy of her time.

His name is Sherrod Brown, and he is Ohio’s senior senator.

It can’t be easy being married to a political power player when you have a reputation as a righteous political journalist, but if anyone can do it, it’s Schultz.

Not only has she done it well in the past, she is continuing to do it well today. She recently singled out Governor John Kasich’s claim that he was a “moderate” by bringing up his war on Planned Parent during an appearance on MSNBC several weeks ago.

Schultz was telling that story at dinner when she looked up and asked me if girls my age realized what Kasich is attempting to do with women’s reproductive rights in Ohio, and whether or not we realize all that is at stake.

I responded by saying I believe our news sites are oversaturated and sometimes the importance of certain issues does not get through to my age group.

The incessant updates on social media don’t help either. Why read about ISIS on your New York Times app when you can scroll through Yik Yak?

Schultz seemed to appreciate my honesty, but her question really resonated with me. Do my friends really realize what’s at stake for us, especially now that Ohio’s top five state offices are filled by Republicans?

Do my friends realize that our governor has already made it more difficult for family planning groups to receive funding for preventive care, that is, birth control?

Do they understand that just days after Texas state senator Wendy Davis successfully filibustered a bill that would make abortions practically illegal, Kasich made it Ohio state law for any woman seeking abortion to undergo an ultrasound?

Are they aware that Kasich’s bill makes it difficult for abortion providers to obtain transfer agreements with public hospitals?

The problems facing women’s rights in Ohio are very real, and yet the women of my generation seem pretty passé on the subject overall. Why aren’t we fighting this fight?

Women have fought oppression for centuries. The women who came before us had to fight to protect their rights, and we appear to be forgetting their struggle. What would these women, some of whom were murdered in bombings, shot, harassed or injured, say to my generation? Would they even want to be associated with us?

I guess my point is this: ladies, we have got to start paying attention. Of course not every woman would agree with me on this, but I know there are many who do.

We cannot continue to live in a bubble where we think nothing bad can happen to us, because it can.

Right now there are a bunch of white dudes 20 miles away trying to figure out how they can control the most personal part of our bodies. We are under siege, and it’s not going away.

New technology, live coverage, radio station to bring in a new era of journalism at OWU

Have you noticed anything different about The Transcript you’re holding?

I certainly hope so.

I would say that my first semester as the paper’s editor began as a whirlwind, but really it would be more appropriate to call it a hurricane.

There was a major change between the top editors on our staff, serious issues with the technology we depend on to produce the paper and, of course, stories that challenged me ethically.

From Elliott Hall’s pipes exploding, to the horrific attack against one of our own students last spring, I found myself in our office in Phillips until 4 a.m. on several occasions.

Because of internal staffing issues and external factors we couldn’t control, I used to have anxiety every time I checked my email.

I would be so convinced someone else would be angrily informing me about a mistake, a quote or some larger issue that I had let slip through my fingers.

But I think I’m starting to get my groove back.

Thanks to my team here and a summer to prepare myself properly, I’m feeling pretty optimistic about this semester (knock on wood). We got a little bit of a makeover, and a lot of help from our department head, Paul Kostyu, to finally bring our department into the 21st century.

We plan to provide our student body with more live coverage of events by live-tweeting and keeping consistent with our social media.

Our radio station is on its way, and we will be broadcasting news and public affairs programming during the day and music and talk shows into the evening.

We plan to increase the number of columns and we want to work towards reporting on more diverse coverage than we have in the past. Also on our radar are a lot of promising reporters who we are confident have a lot of potential.

I’ve worked on this paper for all seven of my semesters here; first as a reporter, then as A&E editor and now as the Editor-in-Chief. I don’t know what I am going to do without it, but I do know I want to leave it better than ever.

Cheers to a great semester, everyone.

It’s no secret that I am a strong advocate for mental illness awareness and resources. I’ve written several columns about the issue in response to the changes in Counseling Services that have occurred over the last year. While our Counseling Services office is still in need of attention, I truly believe Ohio Wesleyan students take understanding and respecting mental illnesses very seriously. One of the biggest factors that led me to choose OWU was the student’s general sense of awareness, and in my time here I have seen students undertake remarkable efforts in speaking out about mental illness awareness.

The level of compassion and understanding towards mental illness at OWU was made even clearer to me yesterday, when I received a phone call from someone very close to me. He struggles with obsessive-compulsive disorder and anxiety, and earlier that day the dean of students at his university called him into his office.

The dean told him someone had reported him for “making weird sounds” in the library, and that he needed to “control his behavior.”

He told the dean he was sorry for the disruption, explaining that he has conditions that make it difficult for him to sit still and ignore his ticks. He started crying, and told the dean he would refrain from using the quiet floor.

The dean responded saying that he should not use the library at all if his “he continues this very unusual behavior.”

The dean’s comment infuriates me for several reasons.

First, telling someone who just told you they have a mental illness that their behavior is “unusual” is not okay. The second element of the dean’s comment that I take offensively is his implication that the behavior can be controlled or stopped. If someone tells you he has a mental disorder, you cannot disregard the severity of that situation.

It’s like telling someone with an elephant on their back to “shrug it off,” without acknowledging the fact that the two tons of mammal on his shoulders might make it difficult to free himself.  If my friend could stop his “behavior,” he would. No one wants to take four hours to write a one-page paper because they can’t stop twitching.

Finally, one of the most heartbreaking aspects of the dean’s response, to me, is that the dean clearly does not realize the severity of mental illness. Mental illness can be hard to understand, but it is so crucial that we as a society acknowledge it. It is a problem, and that’s why we shouldn’t make it worse by perpetuating a culture that does not take it seriously.

Hearing about this incident made me sadder than I can express, but it also made me proud of my school.

This university is in the midst of figuring out issues with Counseling Services, but I truly believe students in our community have been able to support one another and raise awareness over mental illness regardless. I’ve seen students here advocate for Counseling Services, talk freely on stage about their mental illnesses and support one another when we lose one of our students to mental illness.

I feel people here talk about mental illness and try to understand it. While my friend’s experience breaks my heart, it makes me proud to attend a school that takes so much pride in advocacy for all issues.