Lucye Rafferty/The Hoya Laila Al-Arian
When people ask me why I want to become a journalist, my response is pretty standard: I like to write, travel and meet new people. What other career would give me the opportunity to do all three and get paid for it?
Truthfully, the answer is much simpler than that: I’m nosy. OK, so I prefer to call it “inquisitive” or “intellectually curious.” Either way it all goes back to the fact that I like to know what’s going on.
This desire to be informed inspired so many of the decisions I made at Georgetown. As a shy sophomore transfer student, I made my way to THE HOYA office in Leavey 421 and asked to write. Through my involvement with the paper, I’ve come to learn more about Georgetown, and ultimately, about myself.
With a few weeks left until graduation, I look back at the time I’ve spent here and find myself at a loss for words. How do I begin to describe the way Georgetown has helped shape the person I am today?
I think about the eclectic mix of stories I’ve written in the past few years and realize that each has taught me something. When I was asked to write an obituary on Stephen Cangialosi, an alum who died in the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, I immediately jumped at the opportunity to honor the memory of a fellow Hoya during a time when fear and vulnerability permeated our normally insulated campus. It wasn’t until I called Cangialosi’s widow that pangs of uncertainty and self-consciousness kicked in. What would she think when she heard my Arabic-sounding name? I swallowed hard and went ahead with the interview. After I sent her a copy of the article, I was surprised to find a card in the mail a few days later. “Thank you for the beautiful article. I will keep it in a scrapbook for my sons to read when they are older,” she wrote. In an unexpected way, Karen Cangialosi taught me to have more faith in people and that human beings have an amazing way of coping with tragedy.
Then there was the time I sat down to interview 99-year-old Rev. Joseph Durkin, S.J., who taught me that it is only possible to truly appreciate the present by understanding the past.
And there were the students I talked to who were genuinely here for the pursuit of higher education, not just for the prospect of a high-paying job on Wall Street. There were those who implemented the phrase “men and women for others” into their daily routines. Knowing that this ideal is the very essence of Georgetown, they refused to accept it merely as rhetoric we hear during NSO, graduation and ceremonies in between. Instead, these students dedicated their time and energy to the service of others, whether through tutoring kids for a few hours a day or spending their Saturday afternoons distributing food to the District’s homeless.
The people I came to know and respect at Georgetown inspired me and made me want to become a better person. Through hearing their stories and becoming a part of their lives, even for a short time, I lived vicariously through those I interviewed. Through these interactions, I was able to learn at least a little about the human experience, just as I have through the writings of Jane Austen, Toni Morrison and Ernest Hemingway.
Among the lessons I’ve learned in college is that any given student, through four years of rigorous intellectual challenges, will go from considering procrastination a disease that should be avoided to an art that can be mastered.
The classes I’ve taken have taught me the importance of examining an issue in depth, even at the expense of time. I’ve come to learn that there about three or four sides to every story, and that I should give each version the same consideration, no matter how ostensibly absurd it may seem.
I’m not ready to leave. There are so many stories waiting to be written. Why do some students choose to take the same professor all four years of college, and why have some of my classmates chosen to become Jesuits? Will SFS students ever have a science requirement and to what extent will the university make public its principled stance against unconstitutional provisions in the USA Patriot Act?
But I can’t be selfish. Someone else will have the chance to ask these questions and come to know Georgetown the way I’ve come to know it.
I look at the times I’ve had at Georgetown as patches on a quilt. They are distinctively beautiful, tragic, enlightening, hectic and exciting. As they come together they form a mosaic of experiences in a place for which I’ll always be grateful.
For this reason, I can’t understand why I often get the same question. I can see it coming before it hesitantly escapes their lips. People find out I’m a student at Georgetown and they can’t help but ask. Cocking their head sideways and squinting their eyes, they finally say, “So, what’s it like as a … well . Muslim at a Catholic school?”
I smile knowing that my answer will disappoint them. I don’t have horror stories to share. I’m annoyed that they’ve reduced my college experience to a question asked half out of ignorance, half out of .
Maybe they’re just nosy.
Laila Al-Arian is a senior in the College and a former Assistant Features Editor and member of THE HOYA’s Editorial Board.