IN THE RICE BOX: In Defense of… Me

OLIVIA CHEUNG
Editor in Chief

To the stranger at Shaka’s who asked about my future plans and then proceeded to criticize them, perhaps it’s the senioritis kicking in full swing, but I don’t care about your opinion.

At this point in our senior year, most of us have been badgered by hovering families and overly curious friends about our colleges, our majors and our futures. (Did that sound as scary to you as it did to me?) Perhaps it’s the defiant adolescent within me or the uncertain and scared child that’s slowly counting down the remaining days until graduation, but I’m no longer going to entertain any more questions about my future plans.

You’ll know when I know.

Granted, there are those who are admirably resolute about their future. For the rest of us, though, breathe easily knowing that you don’t owe anyone any justifications about your future, assuming safety and legality are prioritized. Some may call us impetuous or selfish, but these next few years are ours. Every decision and consequence is ours to own and learn from, not our parents’, our friends’ and certainly not strangers’, so why should their opinions dictate our paths of self-discovery?

In defense of me, your opinion is irrelevant.