“Yeah we scream, yeah we shout ’til we don’t have a voice, in the streets, in the crowds, it ain’t nothing but noise drowning out all the dreams of this [Mississippi Girl], just tryna be heard in all this noise.”
Voice. That is what my freshman year at Ole Miss was all about. Voice in all aspects of my life: in writing, in school, in my own life. Everything that has happened this year has just been noise trying to get me to realize my own voice.
Throughout every single paper this semester there has been one underlying theme in each of Mrs.B’s comments: voice- ” you have nailed the voice of an academic essay,” (synthesis essay), ” you mix voice with academic work, making a causal argument both entertaining… and compelling,” (cause and effect argument), ” your tone fits your suggestions so well!” (mutlimodal website). That consistency is what I have been most proud of in writing 102. I have a strong personality and always resented the fact that in writing I “had” to be so objective to the point I sound like a robot. This class gave me a chance to write about subjects that not only mattered to the world in the grand scheme of things, but also things that mattered to me like the women’s movement and picking a college major. I never considered myself a feminist, but found a voice as a supporter of men joining women in the march towards equality. For so long I listened to all of the noise telling me that my major was easy and a “bullshit” major, but after all my research, I found my voice as a proud “party planner.” This opportunity to write about these things allowed me to have opinions and make the reader aware of them in an academic sense. This realization benefited me not only this semester, but will continue to be in my academic arsenal for the next three years (maybe four, who knows).
Did y’all know that almost 50% of Ole Miss is Greek? And I am absolutely, certainly not in that particular 50%. In fact, I openly make fun of Jeremy for the Greek letters on the back of his truck. But this semester I find myself wearing my Greek letters on my necklace every single day. ΦΗΣ. Are you as confused as I was? Don’t worry, I’m not wearing the same t-shirt as 21654684 girls on campus or spending $500 on a formal dress. Remember last semester? I told you that I decided to be the 4.0 type. I guess it paid off. This semester I became a member of Phi Eta Sigma- the oldest and largest freshman honor society in the United States. I found my voice on campus. I’m not on a sports team, or a leader in Chi Alpha (which was the plan last semester), or a Tri Delt, but I am an honor student. The best part? That voice can never be taken away. My mom paid $75 and now I’m a “sister” forever- which is exciting because although I realized my campus voice is academic this semester, my grades are taking a minute to catch up with me, but that’s a story for a different time.
Most importantly of all, I found my voice as me. I found a voice that was my own instead of a voice mimicking my parents’, or my boyfriend’s. I found a voice that put myself over all the noise. Freshman year, spring semester in particular, provided me with the confidence to put myself first. Never before did I ever deem my own happiness as a top priority, but being here, with so many decisions, and people, and potential, suddenly it didn’t make any sense not to worry about myself first and foremost. I’ve grown more as a person in these past 9 months than I ever did in the last 19 years. And this year has been far from perfect, to be quite honest it has been one giant, hot mess. But that’s the craziest part, I have made more mistakes this year than ever, but have never had less regrets than I do right now. When this year started out I deemed it the shittiest of Shitty First Drafts- my grandmother passed away, my boyfriend of three years was in the middle of a sexual assault court case, I broke up with said boyfriend, I slept with a guy I barely knew, and drank a questionable amount. But here I am, it’s May and my family has grown closer than ever, the case was dropped because the girl lied, I have recognized the last three years as a growing experience instead of a waste of time, said guy I barley knew has met my parents and is planning on visiting me in Atlanta this summer, as far as the alcohol, yeah that might still be questionable, but hey, I didn’t die. The point is, sometimes it’s the imperfections that make life worth living, sometimes the shittiest of rough drafts lead to the best of final drafts in the end. I’ve learned that you have the power to control your own happiness, all you have to do is find your voice.
