by Zoë Roos Scheuerman ’24
Dear Words readers,
In the summer of 2021, I saw a posting on JobX, Mac’s work-study portal, for a newsletter editor in the English department. I promptly emailed the listed contact – someone named Jan Beebe – with my very earnest pitch for why I should get the job. It was a shot in the dark, but Jan, or, as I addressed her until she told me to stop, Ms. Beebe, responded with an offer for a part-time job. I immediately said YES! When that part-time position unexpectedly morphed into a full-time gig writing for the Words, I had the feeling that my college life was finally falling into place after a brutal first year at the height of the pandemic. Even then, though, I couldn’t have imagined how much of a supportive, comforting community the English department would become for me during my time at Mac.
Of course, everything in my life did not, in fact, fall into place, and I’ve had my fair share of moments since that initial email exchange when I’ve felt like that one Spongebob meme. But during my time at Mac, I’ve made a million good memories in the English department which turned my shifts into high points even on low days. I’ve laughed nervously with coworkers as I stick my hand into the printer’s guts like a Victorian factory-working child, rooting around for that one tiny scrap of jammed paper. I’ve nearly fallen asleep on the glorious, plush la-Z-boy in the workroom (definitely just once or twice, though), watched tiny footprints appear on the roof in winter as squirrels scampered through the snow, and theorized with the other newsletter editors about how a pumpkin got onto the roof in the fall of 2023. I’ve built lasting friendships, visiting Charley Eatchel ‘23 during their study abroad program in Paris and getting invaluable help securing a Fulbright from Dalton Greene ‘22. (Is that this networking thing I’m supposed to be doing?) I’ve even shared my deepest, darkest secret with the student worker team: a joke Suez Canal x Evergiven fanfiction I wrote during the spring of my first year. The pre-vaccine pandemic was a strange time. By my calculations, I’ve also devoured about 80 bagels, which is objectively a lot but seems like far less than it should be.
Last summer, after returning to the U.S. from my study abroad program, I visited my partner in Seattle and tagged along to their office to work on various postgrad applications while they did their Real Adult Job. I also visited a friend from the area, Ryan Cotter ‘24. We spent some time talking about what it meant to go into our last fall semester at Mac, and they said of graduation, “There’s only so much you can grow in one place.” She’s right. Much like all of the flourishing house plants living on Old Main 2, I’ve done plenty of growing in the department and would never have become as self-assured, mindful, and high-achieving as I now am without the department community. My time in the English department, whether in the office, the classroom, or with friends in the Old Main 4 lounge, has meant the world to me. It also can’t go on forever, because growth requires change. And, no offense to Macalester, I don’t think I have a ninth semester in me.
Earlier this spring, when I prepared my editor’s note for the Spring 2024 Chanter issue, I looked at my predecessor, Teddy Holt ‘22’s, last editor’s note for inspiration. At one point in the forward, Teddy compares writing the note to “a man speaking into his ship’s black box… knowing his words are the only way those who come after him will know what happened there.” Because of Ryan’s comment about growth, writing my parting words doesn’t feel like that kind of do-or-die moment. Relationships meant to last will outlive my time at Mac as long as everyone involved puts in the work, and even if I have no idea what my long-term future holds, I trust myself and the skills I’ve acquired during my time as an English major to set me up for success regardless of where I end up.
Nevertheless, Teddy’s words resonate with me because I’m very aware of what it feels like to turn to Chloë, go Do you remember when Alice-, and realize that most of the current student workers in the department have never met the person we’re talking about. And then comes the realization that, oh my God, that’s going to be us in a few years. Cue the existential dread.
I tend to operate with a “power through now, process later” mentality, which is great for a triple major’s workload but less awesome for processing and reflecting on my time at Mac. So, at the time that I’m writing this, leaving Mac hasn’t really sunk in. In two or three days, I’m going to become a sniveling, snotty, puffy-eyed mess despite all of my brave sentiments about being emotionally prepared to be all grown up. When that happens, it’s going to be really hard to get a coherent word out, so while I still can: Thank you, to Jan and my professors and my friends and my coworkers in the department, for rooting for me during the past four years. Thank you to everyone reading this for supporting my silly little work study job. In case you didn’t know, Mailchimp lets the newsletter editors see exactly who on email lists opens emails or not, so I know exactly who you are.*
It’s customary to include some words of wisdom in a “Parting Words” article. If I have anything to pass on, it’s this: CHOOSE SLEEP. The all-nighter isn’t worth it. Trust me. Ask for the extension. Beyond that, remember that your work, even your creative work, isn’t your identity. It’s OK for it to be imperfect, even when you turn it in. And finding your niche(s) is more important than being “the best,” whatever that actually means. Doing things out of love instead of out of competitiveness is how you get close to being something like “the best” anyways.
Again, thank you so much to the department community for listening to me, teaching me, cheering for me, giving me the writing critiques I need, and feeding me many, many times during my time at Macalester. The world isn’t so big – I’ll be back to say hi sometime not too far away.
With lots of love,
Zoë
*We don’t actually keep track of who opens each email or not. There’s no spreadsheet with your name on it in the department drive.