NOTES FROM THE DESK

Author: THOMAS C. DRESCHER

It's unsettling to think that the publication of this, our first issue of the spring 2006 semester, signifies the beginning of the end for my four-year career as an undergrad pseudo-journalist. What's truly terrifying, though, is the thought that in approximately 13 weeks I'll be flung ingloriously into the real world, armed only with a Middlebury College A.B., a portfolio of Community Council Campus articles and Mr. Painter's imitation cane.

Though I've spent much of the past four years shrouded in a self-styled and disorienting cloud of academic jargon and scholarly pretension, working as a Campus writer and editor has always been my guiding light of practical knowledge. It has fueled my career aspirations, sparking glorious dreams of one day deposing Mr. Arthur O. Sulzberger, Jr. and seizing the reins of The New York Times.

Unfortunately, realizing such dreams has become more difficult than ever. The journalism industry is inexorably shrinking at a most inopportune time. For me, at least. The print media sector in particular is scaling back tremendously in terms of human resources, making it even less likely that a reputable newspaper will even consider hiring me as a fact checker or coffee boy. And it doesn't help that I'm plagued by incessant career-related inquiries from friends and relatives. How tragically ironic that the skill set I've acquired as a student journalist - my one practical defense against the powers of inane academia - will now be rendered valueless by diminishing industry.

Can I fall back on my chosen field of study? Most people don't seem to appreciate the practical utility of a Classical Studies degree, though I would argue that Goldman Sachs could always use another energetic young Latinist. Trust me, there is money to be made in noun declensions.