NCCU home

Kim Arrington

It’s 1:30 -- that’s a.m. And I’m feeling a bit nostalgic.

Please bear with me. My friends don’t invite me to show-and-tell anymore.

Kim Arrington fact #1032: I drive an ’89 navy blue -- okay, many moons ago it was navy blue -- Ford Tempo that I affectionately refer to as "Tempie Tempo."

I got Tempie when my other car took to the deathbed. Tempie was a very appreciated hand-me-down.

I love Tempie -- especially when I’m trying to coax her to the gas station. Her gas gauge always reads "F" even when on "E."

She’s got many -- shall we say -- character flaws: her turn signals don’t shut off; she overheats too often, one of her doors doesn’t open; she has a recurring phantom horn beep.

Despite all her faults, I love Tempie: She gets me from point A to point B (wherever the hell points A and point B really are).

Tempie is more than transportation to me. She’s my beloved.

In my nostalgia, I’m seeing some parallels between between Tempie and our beloved NCCU.

I choose Central by default, too. No, no -- I’m not belittling NCCU. I grew up in Durham, so Central is in my backyard.

I’m now feeling that it has been one of the best decisions I ever made, even though Central often functions as if it were on "E."

What would a full tank at Central be? Here’s a short list: a student body with high morale, a state that supports the institution’s needs, professors who devote more time to improving their teaching skills, a sea of computers that run, and a library that doesn’t send you scurrying off to Duke and Carolina.

Like Tempie, Central needs assistance with its direction. And we all have to help navigate her.

Like Tempie, Central can overheat. But too often we protest the broken air conditioners, while we fail to identify the real source of the problem. Too often Central has been treated as the forgotten child of the UNC system.

And lots of people at Central carry on like Tempie’s pesky horn and go off at the most inopportune times. But how many are really willing to do what it takes to really fix the problem?

I hope that I haven’t just been making noise. This column has been my way to petition for campus-wide reform. I beseech you to find your own.

Whoever thought my car would be such a fitting metaphor for NCCU?

But when all is said and done I feel I can trust Central to get me from point A to point B. And I’m about to take a giant step from point A to point B.

I’m exiting stage left in May -- you know, graduating. This will be my last column.

And even though I have encountered long lines at registration, busted air conditioners, slow computers, and a university that hasn’t quite caught on for the need for a communications department, I still love NCCU.

I know, this whole kinder gentler thing is kinda sappy, but it’s true.

I feel like a phase of my life is coming to an end and another is beginning.

I’m exactly in the place that I hoped to be and that gives me a sense of peace.

Are you guys humming "Pomp And Circumstance" yet?

I remember now in my first editorial in the paper I wrote (yes, with considerable drama) these words: "they wonder why people don’t give back to Central."

Well, I’ll give back.

I never really signed-on for the job of opinions editor, but I feel it’s been a pretty good fit.

What’s next for me? Oh, a place that is fueled by paradoxes and energy and possibility -- New York City.

I will be working in artist management initially. But I hope to start a management company (or a small nation). Whichever comes first.

I’m gonna miss Durham. I’m gonna miss NCCU. I’m going to miss all of you. I’ll even miss Señor Chambers. See, I do have a heart.

And that’s where I’m gonna keep this whole Central thing -- in my heart.

So expect to get more than the two-tear minimum at graduation.

This thing -- this Central thing -- has assisted me in finding me. This is the thing that I realized at 1:30 a.m. And it means more to me than I ever thought possible.

Central has nurtured me. Like Tempie, Central will always be my beloved.