Time with Skiff was well spent
COMMENTARY
Jenny Specht

From the advent of my personal literacy, I have been a voracious reader. Starting at a young age, even ketchup bottle labels were not outside the realm of my interest; nor were my mother’s romance novels, an incident that prompted an emergency trip to the children’s library and a euphemistic explanation of the word “passion.”

I adored story lines, but what I truly loved were the words. Fitting them together was an intricate puzzle and a battle with clarity and creativity. I wrote papers, stories, poems, grocery shopping lists and letters. Each one was an exercise in grammar and a journey in thought.

Logically, in college I have elected English as one of my majors. What I originally thought would be a study of classic authors and command of language evolved into much more. I have gained the knowledge needed to structure thought, to form complex sentences, to convey the gravity of ideas, to express the levity of humor. I read with a cautious eye, gleaning details, grasping concepts, letting the words wash over me.

Yet my greatest education in communication has been the two years I have spent writing a Skiff column. I began in response to the ad, “Have an opinion? Write for the Skiff.” I had quite a few opinions, and although lacking any journalistic experience, I was accepted as a columnist.

I timidly submitted my first piece, unaware what to expect from its publication. A plethora of responses accompanied that column and the many since. One respondent asked,

“Does anyone really respond to these things?” I had wondered that too. It turns out they do.

As I discovered, despite my best efforts to let others proofread my work beforehand, inevitably my written words would be interpreted in another fashion.

There has been a barrage of humorous misunderstandings. I once complained in print about the lack of “real dates” here, implying (I thought) that dates had been replaced by casual or group meetings. Several interested gentlemen thought that I was personally soliciting for dates, and contacted me soon thereafter to ask me out to dinner.

Unfortunately, I had not been looking for a date, although the whole experience made me realize that the adage that “there are no guys at TCU” is certainly false.

I wrote another column regarding a proposed Honor Code and described SMU’s Honor Code to illustrate the uses of one. A lawyer and TCU alumnus interpreted my mention of the school as a reason not to institute the code, based solely on his relationship with an unscrupulous colleague who had gone to SMU.

I tried to explain my true meaning in follow-up correspondence whenever possible, and learn from these incidents by further elucidating my prose before publication. I approached each sentence as if I were attacking it, aiming my arrows at inconsistencies and vague terms.

I never imagined what a transformation would take place in my writing when I wrote my first column, nor would I have guessed that people would recognize me from the blurry Skiff picture and approach me both on and off campus.

Despite the critical e-mails and other low points — for example, the disastrous food stealing essay which caused everyone to ask if I’d ever stolen food from The Main (the answer is no) and which made it appear as if I were condemning all food thieves (I do not judge) — I have enjoyed my time as a columnist.

In fact, even knowing what I know now, I’d do it all over again, just as an exercise in communication.

Jenny Specht is a graduating senior English and political science major from Fort Worth. She can be reached at (j.l.specht@tcu.edu).