When I tell people where I'm going after graduation, they tell me I'm crazy. "Do people really live out there?" they ask. I used to avoid the subject all together for fear of the looks on people's faces when I would tell them.

But now, I'll scream it from the tower of Old Main and print it in the paper: I'm heading to South Dakota this summer for an internship. And when people ask me why, I have one word for them: passion.

As I sit here at 1 a.m. in the nearly empty Collegian office finishing up the final headlines and proofing the front page, I realize that my love for this craft has overcome all of the comments and criticism that I've heard, all of the crappy hours that I've worked and all of the money that I didn't (and won't ever) receive.

If I stop typing, I can hear laughter resonating from the Café, and all I want is to sip on a tea. But as I walk home, while the remainder of Penn State is sleeping or cramming for exams, I think about the paper rolling off the press. In a few hours, papers will grace the hallways and entrances of campus buildings, and students will be reading the product that all of my colleagues and I worked so hard to produce. And suddenly it's (mostly) OK that I didn't get to join my friends for dinner or watch the newest episode of Grey's Anatomy.

Most of my afternoons and evenings of my college career have been spent in the basement of the James Building, neglecting schoolwork and exercise. But when I leave here, I have more than just a few good nights at bars or photos of me at the Nittany Lion statue. I have the experience of writing a Thon story after staying up for almost 48 hours, talking to a rape victim, describing a brutal murder scene in vivid detail, relaying the emotions of 10 students who lost their house to a fire and interviewing a girl whose boyfriend was shot to death. As a copy editor, I've written headlines that appear on fridges and bulletin boards across State College, and I've received an enormous amount of joy over the years from catching dangling modifiers and misused words.

As future of the newspaper business is looking rather grim, many are trying to get out. I've been forewarned plenty of times myself to leave. I thought about searching for a career in another field or going back to school to get a degree in something where there are actually jobs available. As time to find a job crept closer, I sat down and discussed the no-jobs-and-little-pay dilemma to my parents. They told me -- as with everything I've done in my life -- that they'd stand behind me in my career decision. However, they said, "Sarah, you beam with joy every time you talk about journalism." They told me to let go of the money issues and pursue what I felt right.

I sat back and thought about how journalists have the unique and irreplaceable ability of exposing and causing change in how things in this country run and how well the people in charge run them. What other job can provide a forum for public criticism and compromise? At the same time, we celebrate the efforts of ordinary people who have made incredible sacrifices -- whether big or small.

Journalists introduce people to the delights and surprises that exist around them. We tell the important story that has yet to be told. We bust open the news that someone doesn't want told. Journalists have long been dedicated to the very ideal of serving the American people, and I am proud to stand behind that as my job description. It's wonderful to know that what you do will make a difference for somebody, whether it teaches, inspires or entertains.

Journalism has introduced me to a world of language and ideas and challenging people and situations. It introduced me to most of my friends. It introduced me to the person I love.

As I pack my bags for South Dakota, even if everyone else thinks I'm crazy, I know I'm doing the right thing.

I don't regret receiving my degree in journalism, and I wouldn't trade my experience at The Daily Collegian for anything. The stress, lack of sleep and criticism we all endured to put this publication out was the best damn time I've ever had.