Letter from the Editor: Gravity in an Expanding Universe

Managing Editor

   When asked to write this letter as incoming editor-in-chief, goofy, cliché metaphors about changing leadership jumped to mind: torch- and baton-passing, handing over keys, etc.

    Not only are they tired images, none of them seemed to fully convey what this means to me, so I made up my own: I rule this galaxy now.

   Before you send that letter putting me in my proper earthly place, hear me out.

   This little galaxy called “The Voice” isn't too shabby. It's a young formation, still growing and evolving, but well-organized and bright enough to give much bigger ones a run for their money. Astronomers tell us the universe is expanding--a galaxy's got to keep up, you know.

   “And now it is mine!” I said--wobbling on my axis a bit. Ok, maybe more than a bit.

   It's not that I'm afraid, really; it's just that the last guy to run this place did so at such high magnitude. Can I maintain the intense but ordered nuclear fusion that makes such luminosity possible?

A Grander Scale

   So I take on this new role with measured caution, high discipline and great humility. When I say “I rule this galaxy now,” I don't fancy myself some egomaniacal interstellar dictator. I only mean that a responsibility of very high density now belongs to me, and I understand the gravity of the matter. When I say it's mine, it means I take ownership of that responsibility despite its occasional harsh extremes and high pressures.

   The Voice only reached its current state of maturity through time and the shining efforts of everyone who now contributes or has ever contributed to its production. As such, we project the finest image as a highly-ordered whole; a tableau of stars together forming a single bright object.

   With that in mind, when we continue to develop and expand into the future, we could not do it without the light-speed evolution of the past. When we accomplish, we only do so as an extension of the accomplishments of those who came before us. Whole galaxies don't spring instantly from the dust--they are formed with the proper measures of energy and time.

   Just in my one-year tenure here, certain people have gone above and beyond their duties to The Voice's mission, and I have had the pleasure and privilege to read and learn from their works. Shane Glass' fascinating in-depth reports on various subjects were always informative. Carrie Johnson's pieces were always timely, well-written, important and creative, as were Tara Snider Coburn's. I could always count on Susan Pruitt for entertaining insight and a sharp wit in her famous commentaries (and in the lab, where I nearly ended up in the floor laughing a few times). I knew when I got involved I would have to really tighten up to reach the bar they set.

Dark Matter

   Before I torture this metaphor until it implodes on itself, I have to bring up the black hole.

   Ron Sitton, assistant professor of journalism and adviser to The Voice, sits in the middle of this spiral galaxy, and those too weak for his gravity will be consumed.

   But he is the engine of galactic evolution and the driver of change. He exerts just enough gravitational pull to keep The Voice centered and to hold its form. Without his guidance and discipline, without him stoking the fires that make the whole thing spin, The Voice may have dissipated like dust in the solar wind.

   Dr. Sitton, I offer infinite and humble gratitude for all you've done to help me succeed and to make me better and better-prepared as a writer, a student and a person. I am grateful for the opportunities to learn, grow and compete. Thank you for reining me in when I needed it and for giving me a hand up when I needed that as well. Thank you for your patience and understanding while I adjust to life with epilepsy and deal with the treatment process. Thank you for trusting me enough to allow me to do this job. Most importantly, thank you for making me stretch. Astrophysicists say black holes can do that.

An Other-Worldy Being

   Another mentor to whom I am deeply indebted is the only intelligent life-form I've ever known to be both so out-of-this-world and so firmly grounded on this Earth, and I mean that with deep admiration and respect. Over the years I've known Robert “Red Hawk” Moore, he has suffered my demands for his time and wisdom with admirable patience, and offered his guidance and friendship whether or not I was a student in his class or enrolled in the university. He has put his own time aside in the interest of my education and has put his own pride aside in the interest of my understanding at no cost to me. He is the most honest and forthright person I've ever known--virtues which take great courage and integrity to uphold. He was the first person I consulted before making a return to school, this time with a disability, and I would not be a student here at all, much less taking on this position now, without his unending support and encouragement.

Going Rogue

   Inevitably, certain "rogue stars" escape the gravitational pull of their parent galaxies and move off into space in search of bigger and better things. Douglas Boultinghouse, the outgoing editor-in-chief, sets off on his own voyage this May, and with him will go incredible talent, leadership, perspective, fairness, compassion and humor. Never have I worked with anyone in such a high-stress job who kept everything together without fail and without being ill-mannered somehow. Yet with a blistering schedule and a host of obligations and activities, Douglas managed to pull it all off while keeping the staff in stitches, which helped during the moments we felt as though we would lose our minds. He supports us all, and because of that, we all support him.

   Douglas, this metaphor is thankfully near death, but I have to say it: You're the star, man, and I expect you to go supernova at any moment. I can't wait to see what your galaxy will look like.

   So here I am, riding through space on the momentum of others' efforts. But as the universe rapidly expands, hopefully I can help The Voice expand with it. Perhaps I can ease it along the path of natural evolution and help it grow and blossom into something just beyond its former limits. Maybe I can help it stretch a little farther beyond the reach of gravity into something bigger.

   I'm stretching, Sitton. Damn it, I'm stretching.

   Thanks to UAM and its students, faculty and staff, the School of Arts and Humanities, Dean Mark Spencer, Ron Sitton, Douglas Boultinghouse and the entire staff of The Voice as well as its readers, supporters and even critics--I am here for you and because of you. I am honored to serve as editor-in-chief of The Voice, and I will do my best to uphold the shining standards of my predecessor.

   And if I'm going to do that, I sure can't sit around on my axis.

The Voice invites readers to submit their opinions to the Readers’ Forum at http://uamvoice.wordpress.com; Snailmail us at POB 3460, Monticello, AR 71656; or e-mail us at thevoice@uamont.edu. Though letters may appear anonymous at the writer's request, the editorial staff must know his or her identity.

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