"News is the first rough draft of history."

The Voice of the College at Florham

"News is the first rough draft of history." - The Voice of the College at Florham

From the editor’s desk: It’s never easy saying goodbye


I honestly have no idea what I’m doing with my life, but I better figure it out quickly because I’m graduating at the end of this semester.

Although I am relieved to be graduating in February so there is (hopefully) less competition in the job market, I’m actually sad about it. I’m not exactly ready to leave FDU and The Pillar just yet.

I think part of it has to do with the fact that I didn’t start at FDU right away. I’ve been to two other colleges/universities since I graduated high school in 2009.

I began my undergraduate studies at a small liberal arts college in Virginia, but I wasn’t happy. During my semester and three weeks at the college, I realized it wasn’t for me. It was too cliquey and reminded me of high school. I didn’t enjoy middle and high school, and I thought if I went to school in New Jersey that I’d be with the same people I went to school with for seven years, so I started looking into colleges out-of-state.

Little did I know, the “right” place for me was just 40 minutes away from my house this entire time.
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From the editor’s desk: Things change, but I’m okay with that


The majority of the time I have difficulty expressing myself, which is probably a bad thing since I am a writer. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation that’s making it so difficult.

Or maybe I just don’t enjoy it anymore.

A lot of things have changed in the last year that I often blame as my reason for not writing as often as I used to, outside of reporting or writing poems for my poetry class.

It’s a strange feeling when people all but disappear from your life. When it happens gradually, you almost don’t notice it, but when it happens instantaneously you feel as though you’re alone in the middle of a ghost town at night. Maybe that’s just me who feels that way. There’s only so many one-sided conversations you can possibly have.

I came across a quotation that probably sums it up better than I possibly could. In “Cakes and Ale: Or, the Skeleton in the Cupboard,” W. Somerset Maugham wrote, “It’s no good trying to keep up old friendships. It’s painful for both sides. The fact is, one grows out of people, and the only thing is to face it.”
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Personal essay: A warm welcome back to Halloween

Student Voice Editor

Now I know that it seems odd to be talking about Halloween in November, but for the past two years we have been tricked rather than treated to a normal Halloween by Mother Nature. Between “Snowtober” and Superstorm Sandy, which also came with a snowstorm, it seemed as if the Eastern Seaboard was cursed.

If it happened again this year I could imagine the Halloween spirit being so crushed it would take another generation just to get it back.
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Personal Essay: Thank Heavens for Friday miracles

Student Voice Editor

If it happens on a Friday, it is some of the best news around.

First, I found out about the exclusive interview Pope Francis gave to a Jesuit publication declaring that the Catholic Church should stop having a laser focus on gay marriage, contraception and abortion. I mean, talk about left field. I knew His Holiness was cool but I didn’t know that he would be that cool.

Granted, I’m quite aware that the Church won’t start performing gay marriages and opening up women’s health clinics anytime soon, His Holiniess is telling both the Curia (Catholic church hierarchy) and ourselves that we shouldn’t be judging ourselves for who we are, what we did or what we believe in its about being a good human being, all of which are the best attributes of any religion.
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Personal Essay: I Have a Dan Humphrey Complex


People might knock the television show Gossip Girl, which was a show that ran for six seasons from 2007-2012 on the CW Network, but there is actually a lot of truth to the show. For instance, one of the main characters, Dan Humphrey, lives in Brooklyn and constantly feels like an outsider on the Upper East Side. It doesn’t matter that he has an on-again-off again relationship with it-girl Serena van der Woodsen and is best friends with Nate Archibald. The fact is that Dan is always carrying a chip on his shoulder simply because he feels like he never fits in.

For example, one of the show’s main antagonists Blair Waldorf constantly criticizes Dan even though for a while she never really knew him. And it didn’t even matter when Dan became a successful writer; he was still looked down upon since, as Dan mentions in the last episode, the Upper East Side was so elite you couldn’t even buy your way in.
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Personal essay: The day that forever changed my life


Sunday, Nov. 18, 2012. It was truly the day that changed my life.

The morning started out like any other. I look forward to talking to my parents and I called them around mid-morning from the Student Center at FDU. I could not help but feel a little surprised after I was told to call back in an hour, though. Initially, I shrugged it off to the fact that I might not have called at the most opportune time to chat and didn’t think much of it. But as I look back on the whole ordeal now, it made total sense. Little did I know, the biggest bombshell of my life was about to be dropped on me.

I called back in an hour and was still looking forward to talking to my parents.

“I have some good news and bad news,” said my mom.
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Personal essay: Observations from an ever-changing NYC

Student Voice Editor

They say summer in New York City is like no other, but it certainly has changed since “Do the Right Thing” came out all those years ago.

Sure, tensions do flare at times and there still is the occasional “hot car” still slinking in the subway, but as summer has now come to a close and the last rays have been soaked up before the temperature begins to slide as the sun retreats from this part of the world, I wonder if this summer was actually worth repeating.

After all, it rained almost through most of June and then came the heat in July for the first half and then it plunged the second half to the unheard of temperature of 76 degrees and little humidity.

The humidity, which is what makes this city sizzle and pop during this time, made the city seem to be, well, civil.
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Personal essay: Memories turn to everlasting photographs


I yawn, slowly scrolling through my Facebook feed.

It’s 7:20 a.m., but I can’t sleep. A flood of my old pictures bombards me, if only to pass some time.
A bright orange wig explodes out of a photo while a brimmed sun hat with a thin black ribbon tied at its base makes just solemn whispers.

Another picture passes.

A girl is wearing a pair of blue ears. Spikes protrude from both of her hands. She is standing proudly next to another wearing a long black flowing cape and a handmade blue hat with a painted sash. My best friend. The friend I have not seen in almost three years.
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Personal essay: I know it’s no way to live, but it’s all I know

News Editor

In Ithaca N.Y., there’s a stone bridge that goes over the Cascadilla Gorge, leading to Cornell University. There’s a ninety-foot drop between the bridge and the Cascadilla Creek, which empties into Lake Cayuga, one of the Finger Lakes.


On the ride up you see nothing for miles. Just land. I close my eyes and try to block it out, the nothingness. I start wondering if I made the right decision by coming up here. Eventually we coast along the Susquehanna River and we’re in the village of Owego, N.Y.
Only an hour left.
We eat lunch in this restaurant that used to be a jail.
I can feel the old souls left behind. No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to shake them.
Around dinnertime we meet my best friend who studies music education at Ithaca College, the reason we drove up here in the first place. We’re on the second level when we hear a voice.

“What are you guys doing down there?”
I look up and see her leaning over the railing on the third floor.
“I don’t have a brochure, this isn’t a travel agency,” she says about her upcoming recital as we walk to the car. I laugh, and it’s the first time I’ve done so and meant it in days.
I keep drifting in and out of the conversation taking place around me during dinner at Mahogany. No one notices, and if they do, they don’t say anything.
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