Hello readers, and welcome to “For the Birds.” The theme for
this issue was an inspiration from the mind of one of our intrepid
lay-out editors, Molly Esteve. The whole staff was sitting around
my living room one day, blurting out quippy phrases and thoughtprovoking
concepts, when someone suggested we think about the
sorts of things old people say. Molly, as it turns out, has an elderly
friend who uses the phrase “You’re for the birds.” It had us from
The saying got shortened for the purposes of this theme, but I’d like to dwell for a minute on the unabridged version. “You’re for the birds.” It has a nice ring to it and evokes that oh so comforting sensation that fate has a plan.
I spend a lot of time these days thinking about what comes next and have written more cover letters this year than I care to think about. My seemingly permanent sidekick through much of the fall and winter has been that very heavy pressure that sits on my shoulders, urging me to leave Whitman with something to do. Somewhere in the past couple of months, though, I shook off my shoulders a little bit and let go. I keep sending my cover letters and poking around on the internet for job openings and internships, but in my heart I’m waiting for a bird to swoop me into its beak.
You see, like most Whitman students, I will not be leaving these hallowed halls in hot pursuit of a career path. I have no idea what is next, and––as so many of us know all to well––it’s slim pickings out there in the real world. I’m not discouraged. The economy may be bad, but life can still be good. Where am I headed after Whitman sends me out the front door? Hm, well, maybe I should ask the birds which way the wind’s blowing today.
View this issue HERE.
editor: Naomi Gibbs
layout editors: Molly Esteve, Deirdre Gorman
copy editors: Hanne Jensen, Brett Weiss
selection staff: Michael Bell, Ari Frink, Philip Hofius, Madelin Jacobson, Sean McNulty, Nick Michal
staff artists: Isabel Blue, Lara Mehling, Markel Uriu