By Matt Clyburn
I can remember fragmented memories – quite vividly in fact – exactly the way things were. When I arrived for my first day of college nearly six years ago as a young lad, the world was ahead of me, possibilities were abound. I knew exactly what I wanted and what it would take to get there. Little did this philosophy of religion and religious studies major know, he would soon embark on the adventure of a lifetime.
I was born not too far from here at the UConn Health Center on October 5, 1987. The son of two proud parents, I grew to love theater, music and history in the Hartford suburb of South Windsor. In fifth grade, I read a short novel entitled The Kid Who Ran For President and I was instantly hooked. The first male teacher I’d ever had, Mr. Creme, encouraged my dream of becoming president of the United States. I remember wondering whether I’d be able to choose between Democrat and Republican when I was deciding on my party affiliation.
My “September 11th moment” came years before the tragedy, during the Clinton administration. American cruise missiles found their way to Baghdad with great ease – a way to scare the bejesus out of our enemies without making any tangible commitments for the intervention that was so desperately needed there. I sat in my living room and asked my parents if our enemies would ever bring the battle to our shores.
Worry became reality during the rest of the world’s September 11th moment. Freshman Spanish class in high school and everyone was terrified. Some teachers begged to discuss what was going on, show news coverage to students. Administration refused their requests, but some teachers would sneak televisions into the room so that we could see what was going on in the world. I did not have one of those teachers.
My group of friends found solace and comfort in faith during those uncertain times. I was fascinated by existentialism and other areas of philosophy – so I chose to pursue those endeavors when I was accepted to CCSU. Ideas, religions and belief systems were tremendously important to me back then. Before leaving for an internship in Walt Disney World, I would write opinion pieces in the student newspaper that simplified political ideas for the average student.
I soon discovered that my chosen course of study would lead to waiting tables for the remainder of my years, so I jumped ship. I decided to pursue music education. Then communication. Then business. Then, finally, Mr. Creme’s star student chose political science. Why not study something that I enjoy and that I can apply to a practical job in either the public or private sector? Duh.
The trick was that, with my new major, I needed to select a minor. My dabble in communication led me to the Intro to Journalism class and I found myself excelling. My solid writing skills and eagerness to cover politics earned me an A in the course, so I decided to come back to The Recorder once more. I figured the campus newspaper critique in the Fall of 2010 would be an easy A. One credit, just for writing at least five news stories? No brainer!
Needless to say, I wrote a lot more than five stories last semester. And I loved every minute of it. And I got a B.
There’s something to be said for simplifying big ideas, digging for facts and information, presenting an objective portrait of an interesting topic. They say that journalism is the first draft of history. If that’s the case, then I take tremendous pride in the work I do here, in the things I’ve done thus far and in the things I plan to do.
Wherever I end up, I will look back at the fragmented memories I’ve brought with me. I used to think that the memories were scattered, random and even fractured, but they’re not – the things I remember are moments where I started a new draft of who I’ve become. If the work I do here is nothing more than a first draft of history, then I’ll be happy to have impacted a small part of the world we’re constantly on the verge of creating.