When I was in high school, my mother once told me she didn't like one of my friends.
I was appalled. How could a 50-year-old woman who had spoken to someone for probably 16 minutes make such a judgement?
Well, she did. And today, I realize that I should always trust the woman who brought me into this world.
I went home for Easter a few weeks ago. I brought three of my friends with me to my home in upstate New York. Once my mother started chiming in during our Scrabble game -- insert nerd joke here -- I could tell she fancied these friends of mine. Strangely enough, this spurred one of the greatest realizations I've had in the past four years.
When I started working at The Daily Collegian, I felt like I was a year behind. It was the spring semester of my sophomore year, and having just declared journalism as one of my majors, I was looking to get involved.
During my first semester in the office, I remember thinking I never wanted to be part of the giant conglomerate of geeks who lived in the basement of the James Building. College seemed so much more important to me. Yeah, I was uber cool.
However, before I realized it, I had become one of these basement dwellers. With two summer semesters spent on staff, and the transition into editing, I soon found comfort in the basement and started to bond with people I hadn't even known I worked side-by-side with for multiple semesters.
And while the Collegian has provided me with hands-on experience in a news room, a skill set that is invaluable and the opportunity to work in an industry I love, there's definitely something greater I will take away: The friends I've made.
I know from listening to stories from family members -- you know, the "I remember when I was in college" stories -- that the friends you meet in college are supposed to be the type of people you can forge lifelong relationships with. It wasn't until this Easter when my mom's stamp of approval sparked something in me that I should have acknowledged well before the last month of college.
I used to call them my "work" friends. Things really started to change when I suddenly found myself irrationally disturbed by this, feeling like it belittled our friendship. Suddenly they became the people I wanted to spend my Saturday nights with, the people I wanted to meet my boyfriend and my family.
I'm talking about the kind of friends who go to Waffle Shoppe instead of The Phyrst `with you at noon on State Patty's Day , the kind of friends who go out of their way to offer you donuts when they know you've gotten no sleep and you're stressed out at work.
This past weekend I went to New York City for an interview. Having to make a bus at the last minute, I left without my entire portfolio. I remembered my shoes, but not what would actually prove I was qualified for a position.
Without hesitation, these friends of mine went to my apartment, gathered my things and scanned half of my work so I would have something to show the next day.
Ten years from now, I probably won't remember half of the articles I've written or the concerts I couldn't see because I was busy editing stories about them. I will, however, remember the people I've met at the Collegian who have day after day exemplified the respect, honesty and humor needed in a quality friendship.
It may have taken me a while to find these hidden gems, but I did, and I couldn't imagine my college experience, or myself, without them.
This truly is the greatest lesson I've learned in college. Well, that, and always trust your mother.
Jillian Raines is a senior majoring in English, journalism and international studies and until 6:15 a.m. tomorrow is The Daily Collegian's arts editor. Her e-mail address is jmr5113@psu.edu.
