Letter from the editor: Age of uncertainty 

By Sarah Bakeman 

For those of you who don’t know me or haven’t seen my driver’s license, I’m 19 years old. 

Back in April, my birthday brought on a Y2K-scare mindset. But this paranoia isn’t the dig-a-hole, build-a-bunker, stock-up-powdered-milk kind. It’s more so a doom-and-gloom countdown to my 20th — the idea that my birthday will cause this big, uncontrollable “unknown error” message. Picture a giant hourglass with blood-red sand, if you find that kind of imagery helpful.

Once that hourglass runs out, I feel like I’m supposed to have my 60-year plan sketched out, made complete with a meal and outfit plan for each day, an affordable life insurance policy, who I’ll be voting for in each presidential election, my wedding colors (and, I guess, a husband?) picked out and a firm decision regarding whether my casket should be made of oak or mahogany. 

So when I passed my half-birthday in October, I decided to be proactive. This decision meant spending more time commenting stuff like “Congratulations! What a great opportunity!” on LinkedIn and less time working on my Elvis impression. Or watching Minecraft building tutorials. Or choreographing a dance routine with my roommates. 

As an 8-year-old, Mozart wrote his first symphony, but I bet he was also getting his lunch shillings stolen. I’m 19, writing as this publication’s managing editor, but I’ve also switched my major twice in the past month. Bethel University has been around for 150 years, older than sliced bread, and still doesn’t have it all figured out.

The stories you’re about to read show that age and certainty may not be synonymous, and experience is no safeguard against doubt. 

On top of Bethel’s settled foundation and inside its brick buildings, a round of faculty cuts swept across various departments. This is the second time cuts have happened in the past two years. 

Students in off-campus housing are sitting in lectures while also learning to pay rent, unclog sinks and mow lawns — a peek into adult life.

Columnist Molly McFadden describes moving from her family farm to the independence of college life near the city and how the change of scenery offers a childlike curiosity. 

And I think not having it all figured out is normal. It shows that we’re still changing and learning. Whether it’s Bethel trying to figure out how to save money, students learning to live on their own for the first time or my impending third major change, we’re all just trying to make sense of uncertainty.