Spec and the City

First off, a disclaimer: this column will not be about trashy reality shows or my obsession with Harry Potter. It won't be tangentially related to Utah or devolve into an examination of pop culture through the discussion of one specific band. Shocking, I know, as that basically sums up all my writing for the past couple years. No, this column will be about me and my impending graduation. It will be sappy, it will be nostalgic, it will be, in other words, a senior column-just one that somehow escaped the opinion section. You will, however, have to deal with it.

You'll have to deal with it because, try as I might to write something witty, or something focused on pop culture, I can't. I have a column in my head about national identity and dance music that is going to be forever left unwritten (tragic, really-as the current crop of young French producers who are creating the best ass-shaking music around deserve mention), but I can't help it. I'm too trapped in that bout of anxiety and nostalgia that writing a senior column is bound to produce.

As I was sitting down to write this, I couldn't help but think back to the beginning. There's been a lot since I wandered into the Spectator office, late, as usual, for the open house during my freshman orientation week. There have been too many bylines to count (seriously, the Web site cuts you off after 100), more hours wasted in the newsroom than I'd like to admit, and more emotional breakdowns triggered by Spec than are healthy. In fact, there's been so much that it's easy to forget how I started, namely, writing a story about the SGA elections, the start of a year and a half covering student life and student government for the news section.

It's not that I wasn't obsessed with music and pop culture then-I've always been a hopeless music junkie. For my first-grade talent show, I chose to dance to the Beatles' cover of "Twist and Shout." From there, addictions to alt rock, then punk, then everything indie and electronic would follow. But, like so many Columbia students who aren't raised in the general New York area, I was, frankly, too intimidated to either wear my music-nerdom proudly or really jump into the city that was so important to music.

A year and a half later, I became A&E Editor, taking it more as a chance to help fix a very troubled section than a logical position for what I liked, and a year after that I became Music Editor. Somewhere along the way, I realized two things: (1) if you are a music nerd, then you might as well put it to good use, and (2) this city's pretty damn cool.

OK, I always knew New York was cool, but it took me a while to fully appreciate that coolness. At first, I couldn't fall in love: I'd only been here once before college, and I hated it. But, it was that discomfort that made me come-I couldn't handle that I wasn't completely in love, that I wasn't going to as many shows as I wanted to, that I still couldn't quite piece together all the neighborhoods. I never thought it would be Spectator that would weirdly open up the city.

New York City is undoubtedly one of Columbia's best assets. And yet, I know a huge number of students who barely use it. Maybe they venture downtown for a birthday party, or check out a museum, but for the most part, their world is Columbia. That's not a bad thing-if anything, it's proof that Columbia does offer a real 'college' experience, but I do find it depressing. This city is an amazing cultural resource, but it is also a vibrant, chaotic, exciting place that can shape a young person like nothing else. One of my goals as an editor at Spectator was to create a useful guide to the city. If I encouraged even one person to try a new restaurant or head out of Morningside Heights to hear a new band, then I succeeded.

It was in adopting that mind-set of somehow filtering the intensity of New York into 10 newspaper pages each week that I lost myself to New York. If you're constantly thinking about, writing about, and talking about a place, you're going to fall in love with it . Personally, I realized that these issues are important enough that I couldn't leave them behind (the fact that Spec gives you insane networking opportunities was a dangerous combination-my Columbia degree is on the verge of being put to use doing publicity for bands).

To say that this paper has been a big part of my life would be a drastic understatement. For better or worse, Spec has shaped my life here, as it does for anyone who really lets themselves get sucked in. I've been known to equate Spec to a bad relationship: you know it's damaging to you, but for some reason you just can't leave it behind. And despite all the negative aspects, I'm glad I never did leave it behind, because being the sort of A&E grandma to the likes of Tess, Julia, and everyone else has been great. Looking at where I am now, how happy I am to be staying in the city and working for a record label I love, I have to admit that there's a very strong chance I might be off to law school if it weren't for Spec. I almost wish it weren't true, but that's the truth-in the end I owe this paper a thanks.

Ciel Hunter is a Columbia College senior majoring in English and comparative literature.