I’ll admit a very poorly-kept secret: I love Cornell. Yes, I was raised with the pennant above my bed and sung the alma mater to sleep as a baby. Yes, my license plate is my NetID (if you see a 2003 Blue Jeep Liberty and a Florida license plate with John Lennon and ERB26 driving by, feel free to wave).Yes, I have spent the past three years getting paid to wax poetic about Cornell as a campus tour guide. Yes, my favorite perch on campus is in the middle of Libe Café, with an eye towards both face-time and a view of the Arts Quad.

President David J. Skorton gave his “last” lecture, an imparting of collected wisdom and consideration of his legacy, last Thursday. He spoke of the nonlinearity of life and “thin veneer separating the powerful from the powerless,” and noted that as Cornellians — privileged, Ivy Leaguers and hence powerful — we must continuously remember that any slight twist of fate can render us powerless and it is with this humility we must approach all of our actions.

Cornellians are an incredibly well-endowed and lucky body — well-rounded, brilliant, educated, and the most driven people I have ever been exposed to. These gifts we all share also come with the responsibility to give back to Cornell and our communities — we have four years here, do something with them. Leave your comfort zone behind. Do research on alternative energy sources, join an advocacy organization, teach in a local correctional facility, lead an on-campus organization, get to know your professors and their work. I hope my columns over the past eight months, chronicling issues facing Cornell, have provided you with insight into the Hill’s contemporary challenges and perhaps even stimulated interest in taking action. Make your voice heard and make your impression on Cornell.

I wrote in August about my ambivalence towards the G-word and my attempts to “push May 25, 2008 as far into the future as it can go.” With the infamous G-word (graduation) looming about a month away and most of my senior year behind me, consideration of the entirety of the Cornell experience has been on my mind. I arrived at Cornell in August 2004 from the Sunshine State knowing very few people but hoping to make a life for myself on the Hill. It has been a tumultuous, nonlinear journey, with high highs and low lows, through two undergraduate colleges and many different social scenes and activities, and – from this nostalgic viewpoint in April 2008 — the most amazing experience of my life thus far.

My moniker — “Slope Song” — originates in a song of the same title by The Essex Green. Its last verse — “These days I look up now and then/The slope seems a familiar friend/When its lines have left my palm/In queerness and in calm/Gonna find out/Gonna find out” — aptly describes the mentality of my senior year: comfort and contentment with what has been coupled with curiosity about what lies ahead.

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I owe the entire existence of this column to the former Sun Associate Editor Olivia Oran. Who knew that our introduction at a pre-Rosh HaShana dinner at Appel freshman year would be so fateful? Olivia, thank you for having faith I could join the illustrious tradition of Sun columnists, and for repeatedly asking me for sample columns — even tracking me down in Jerusalem last summer — until I finally gave in. Dave Witt, I’m sorry I’ve driven you crazy with missed deadlines and late columns. My legendary procrastination knows no bounds. Thank you for your neverending patience, understanding, and willingness to discuss Government department gossip in Libe Café.

To my academic advisors, Professors Isaac Kramnick and Christopher Way, thank you for your utmost guidance and encouragement. You have each shaped my academic career and I hope every Cornell undergrad is as lucky as I have been to have such a personal relationship with outstanding scholars.

To my friends from all four years and corners of campus, you’ve made this entire experience what it is. Without you, Cornell would just be a bunch of mismatched buildings and exceptional seasons. I owe you all and love you more than you know. To my 306 Bryant housemates: thank you for the multiple hours on the couches, Wegman’s nonpareils and all of the fabulous column ideas, including “inventions we take for granted.”

To my parents, David A. ’71 (the NetID as license plate was his idea; his is DAB38) and Tina Beale, your steadfast editing, brainstorming and enabling my procrastination made these columns happen. You instilled within me a love for Cornell and learning —there is no way to adequately thank you.

And to Cornell — I am a different person than the girl who moved into Mews Hall four years ago because of you. Where I go and who I become from here — I’m gonna find out. Gonna find out.

Elana Beale is a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences. She can be contacted at ebeale@cornellsun.com. Slope Song appeared alternate Mondays this semester.