FROM THE EDITOR: Savannah Nelson
Things don’t always go as planned. This has become a personal mantra of sorts—I’ve come to accept it time and time again, when my car was stolen or I witnessed the death of a deer by lightning strike. Three recent narratives have reinforced this ideology.
Bobby, the Sentry’s Photo Editor, called me on the morning of production with one of his erratic stories: someone tried to break into his car. Once he helped apprehend the suspect, Bobby realized that he’d forgotten his hard drive containing all of this week’s photos at the office—they still needed to be edited.
Last weekend, CU Denver’s Lynxapalooza took place on Auraria Campus, hosting the live performances of Avenhart and Phox, and the MC stylings of the Sentry’s own William and Pedro. Though the event was free to students and provided a wide scope of activities, attendance was low. Despite a booming sound system filling the Tivoli Quad, only about 100 people showed up.
The other day I was off to Coors Field to grab tickets for an upcoming game—it’s about a 40-minute light rail ride to Union Station from the nearest station, then a 15-minute walk to the ballpark. As my partner drove away after dropping me at the Oak Station, I felt the sinking realization that my back pocket was empty. I forgot my phone. Anxiety rushed; what if I have an emergency? What happens if I get lost? How would anyone know where to find me? With a train approaching, I decided to board without my security blanket.
As though intertwined in a moral lesson, the past week’s events combined to create meaningful experiences for those involved. Bobby was able to focus his energy on editing photos. He worked through his stress and provided this week’s issue of the Sentry with colorful photojournalism, turning an unplanned drawback into a success. Lynxapalooza’s low numbers created an intimate atmosphere, where the musicians connected to the crowd easily. And my phoneless adventure gave me the gift of awareness and technology-free independence, once my anxiety dissolved.
While life can seem undeservingly cruel or unfortunate or simply inconvenient, there’s often a resolve of opportunity to follow. I suggest not dwelling in our reaction of discouragement, even if it’s so easy, and so, so tempting. There’s a reward in seeing the bright side, just like there’s wonder in not knowing the time all afternoon—and not really caring to find out.