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Engineering students research laser-based technology aimed at increasing space travel efficiency A3




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Engineering students research laser-based technology aimed at increasing space travel efficiency A3




SARC hosts fourth annual ‘Beyond the Silence: Stories Worn Boldly’ fashion show, event
By Kynlee Joyner Editor-in-Chief
Amid a sea of teal decor, a small figure stood out among the crowd. It wasn’t that he was a child in a crowd of adults or that he had an innocent smile plastered across his face. Instead, it was the serious script across his black shirt that didn’t quite match the pure happiness he was radiating: “Boys will be boys good humans.”
On April 25, the Sexual Assault Resource Center, or SARC, hosted its fourth annual “Beyond the Silence: Stories Worn Boldly” survivor fashion show, headlined by 17 models. Survivors, advocates and representatives alike walked down the makeshift runway, different attire for each model representing the common theme for the night: Sexual assault isn’t caused by what someone is wearing.
“To see people’s bravery, I mean, it brings me to tears every time,” SARC board member Tara Emerson said. “ … The thing I really love that it does is combat a lot of the stereotypes that what people were wearing or what they were doing or where they were impacted their assault in any way.”
From ballgowns and tuxedos to pajamas and everyday wear, every outfit was showcased by models. And if the attire didn’t have the audience emotional enough, the models walking to a personalized narration in their voice did.
“I was a child,” one model said as they walked the runway in a T-shirt and jeans.
“Sexual assault is never the victim’s fault,” another said whilst walking in a cropped shirt
and leggings.
“I was a child, I w-as a college student, I never wanted this,” the model said as they walked in jeans and a button up.
“This event in particular is my favorite event that we do,” Emerson said. “It’s focused really on being able to tangibly support survivors. … They’ve experienced something this traumatic, and this is such an empowering way to show up. … One of the final phases that we sort of hope to see people get to is this incorporation and advocacy to be able to help other people that come behind them and also to claim their own voices again.”
To portray the last step of healing — a common theme of the night — one model walked to a recording in which they read “I walk for children harmed in the very places meant to protect them and for every child whose silence was never a choice.”
Amber Robertson, a four-year participant and founder of Brazos Valley Blessings — a nonprofit organization dedicated to ending the cycle of poverty in the Brazos Valley — said that she walks each year not only for women of color like herself, but so that the women and families she works with feel comfortable opening up to her, ensuring that the event’s message extends far beyond the runway.
“We just hope people, if you have a story to tell, even if you don’t feel comfortable saying it to those who love you … tell someone,” Robertson said. “Your voice is important. … Your voice and story matter.”
When the show concluded, the models had one task left to complete: They gave a rose to someone who believed them when they opened up about their assault. Each rose was given to someone who created a space of safety, compassion and solidarity.
As the models left the stage in search of the person they would pass their rose to, the
audience broke up to take part in the stations set up across the room. Along the right side of the runway stood two tables: one dedicated for letters to the models and another for drawings of feelings that the show evoked.
As each letter and drawing was completed, SARC members taped them along the wall or pinned them along a string, showcasing the waterfall of emotion felt by audience members and models alike.
“It feels like family,” Robertson said. “Like, even if you’ve only met them for 30 minutes, by the end of the experience … they will hug you. Anybody will tell you, ‘I love you, and I’m here if you need me.’ So the family of this is amazing.”
Robertson expanded, noting that this feeling of solidarity is what helps others open up about their assault. But even for those who aren’t ready to speak up just yet, Emerson explained how “Beyond the Silence” can still bring comfort to those in attendance.
“I think that when people do experience something like this, it’s extremely isolating,” Emerson said. “It is really hard to speak up, and if that is someone’s choice to keep it to themselves, I think it’s important to honor that. But they can still work on their healing in their own ways and coming here to see that there are so many different people, different walks of life, different ethnicities, different ages, different identities that represent people who are survivors. And so I think that could be a really empowering thing to just come and be inspired.”
First-year participant Christopher Williams asserted that everyone’s story is one worth being told for those who are ready to speak up or find their voice through the event.
“Even if you’ve faced adversity, even if no one’s listening right now, you have value,” Williams said. “You matter, what happened to you still matters, and it always will.”
10 members of The Battalion’s graduating class say farewell to their time with the publication in Swan Song columns B1-5
By Kennedy Long Life & Arts Writer
It takes an hour and a half to walk the perimeter of the Light family’s ambition. With the din of birdsong coming from the canopy above and the endless crunch of gravel underfoot, Brian and Amanda Light ‘18 weaved through the years of their labor. It was a hike through their own history — a 90-minute patchwork of trial and error that had slowly transformed a stretch of Texas dirt into the Ronin Farm.
“I used to walk around here thinking it feels like someone else’s life’s work,” Brian said. “But more recently, it’s started to feel like our own life’s work.”
Across 15 acres and 15 years, the couple has looked over a sprawling cast: renovated barns, pigs, a pregnant cow, 80 chickens, a rather vocal turkey, a beehive, three dogs and an African spurred tortoise aptly named Trouble. It’s the backdrop against which they’ve built a business and, most importantly, raised three kids, Amanda said.
“That’s what we’re raising at this time, which is not very much for us,” Amanda said. “We joke that it’s not very much, and people are like, ‘Oh, that’s a lot.’”
With anywhere from 65 to 80% of Ronin’s vegetables coming from their own land, the Lights said the Texas climate is what allows them to produce almost year-round, the couple learning what works and fails through a system of faith and adaptability.
“And neither of us have agriculture backgrounds, so everything that we’ve done for the last 15 years, we’ve fully learned on books, YouTube, trial and error,” Amanda said.
After buying the property in 2011 from the daughters of Don Ganter, a local celebrity and the founder of Dixie Chicken, the Lights renovated one barn to accommodate a professional kitchen and slowly cleared the nearby woods of Ganter’s belongings. Officially licensed in September 2012, the Lights introduced Ronin as a catering company, Brian said.
“He [Ganter] was a total pack rat,” Brian said. “ … So when we were building this out, we were like, ‘Maybe one day we should string up some lights and do a dinner out here.’”
When January 2013 wasn’t booked out, the Lights decided to do just that.
“Ganter used to build all of the chairs and tables for the [Dixie] Chicken on this property,” Brian said. “So there were a bunch of pieces, and I was kind of like, ‘Okay, I see what I’m doing here.’”
Using Ganter’s abandoned table supplies, the Lights created an outdoor oasis framed by a generous canopy, a few strings of lights and the Texas starscape above — all centered around the glow of the full moon.
The idea for the first Full Moon Dinner came from a Japanese cookbook, Brian said. The book detailed a group of locals in Osaka, Japan, who were known to have a moon viewing party on a boat that floated the river every October.
“I said, ‘Okay, we don’t have a river, but we have a little forest,’” Brian said. “And on the Tuesday before [the first dinner], we had four people — two of which were my parents — and I was talking to my mom, I was like, ‘Mom, it works in Japan,’ and she said, ‘Brian, you’re not in Japan, you’re in Bryan-College Station, this may not work.’”
By that Friday, though, the Lights had a guest list of 16. The next three months of Full Moon Dinners further proved to be a successful business venture for the farm, Amanda said, with more and more guests asking if the farm was available for weddings, corporate gatherings and Texas A&M events.






beauty in being calm and at peace.
Floriography: message in petals
By Jenica Panicker Life & Arts Writer
Fragile, delicate flowers litter the table, each representing a different meaning: chrysanthemums symbolizing friendship and joy, daisies exploring the purity of life and roses emphasizing love and beauty. With classical music gently humming overhead, students carefully place dried flowers in thoughtful combinations across the page, communicating messages with the petals. In addition to the Forsyth Galleries’ newest exhibition, “Discovering the Languages of Flowers,” University Art Gallery classes serve as a supplemental activity where students get the chance to create, relax and share with others.
Year-round, the Forsyth Galleries are filled with glistening art in antique frames, gnarled wood in the form of furniture and plush benches for attendees to rest in thoughtful reflection and examination. Students can find the Forsyth Galleries on the second floor of the MSC, directly above the first floor’s J. Wayne Stark Galleries. For many students, the galleries serve as a place to examine art, take a phone call or even hold club meetings. In one of the most bustling buildings on campus, these rooms find
Curator of Education and Public Programs Savannah Nichols began Creative University Art Galleries classes, or Creative UART, in the Forsyth Galleries in September 2025. Her mission was to empower the students and staff of Texas A&M to experience the galleries by creating events that complement their current exhibitions.
“When I started here in August, we didn’t have this program [Creative UART],” Nichols said. “I really wanted to bring more people in to see the exhibitions and to connect to the art. So then I decided to open it up to students, staff and faculty and create an art project that relates to the medium that the artist uses.”
For “Discovering the Languages of Flowers,” the class included a pressed flower workshop to understand floriography, the communication of messages through flowers, and appreciate the intricacies of symbolic meanings and messages.
Nichols has hosted classes from printmaking to oil pastels depending on the exhibit currently on display, walking the students through the creation process step by step.
Offered about once a month over four different days and times, the classes often fill up quickly, according to Nichols, and will continue to be a monthly staple for many students and staff for years to come.

Shifting mindsets: art movements
Nichols said that the hands-on creation of the art itself with Creative UART classes offers a new perspective on interacting with the specific art movement and artist.
“When a student walks into the exhibition, sometimes they don’t know how the art is created or what they’re looking at,” Nichols said. “So when they started creating the art itself, it gives them more of an appreciation and more of an understanding of maybe what the artist was thinking when they were making the art or why they made it that way.”
Creative UART Assistant Director Elizabeth Appleby said that this shift often allows the mind to slow down and appreciate elements of the art that may be underappreciated; to her, it is often a superpower to simply sit in this artistic mindset.
“A lot of classes, even engineering classes, come in here sometimes and actually do exercises staring at art,” Appleby said. “ … They really have to sit and look at it and just figure out what they’re seeing. Try to create like you know a bridge between what they’re seeing and what they’re feeling, what the person made it might’ve felt, why they made it and just kind of create a narrative inside their head that really gives them an out-of-body [feeling].”
Ultimately, Appleby said art is not simply found in galleries or exhibitions. Art is everywhere: in flowers, in school, in life.
“There’s art in everything we do,” Apple-
by said. “I mean, there’s art in engineering, veterinary science and all these disciplines. So looking at or experiencing art can really just, you know, give you a reset. And I feel like coming in here can just be a nice 15-minute break.”
“Discovering the Languages of Flowers” will remain on display until July 14.
Lost art: creativity
However, just as there is a shift in utilizing the artistic mindset, Nichols said that the shift away from creativity from childhood to adulthood, especially in the modern era, has changed the artistic landscape. Classes, like the ones Creative UART offers, provide a bit of fresh air from a world consumed by technology.
“One of my family members, she’s 8 years old and has never picked a flower from the ground,” Nichols said. “ … So I don’t know, I think it’s refreshing.”
Appleby discussed the possibility that this might be an excuse for how many people see art, especially in the modern era, as immature.
Appleby said that hands-on creation has a superpower: to not only change one’s perspective, but also to ultimately improve their whole day.
“[Many people say,] ‘Oh, a child could do this,’” Appleby said. “Then you should … Because it is fun, and it is relaxing and just being around here and doing those types of things; it can make your day better.”


Optical propulsion technology cuts space travel time from over 1,000 years to just 20
By Emily Anderson News Reporter
A team of Texas A&M engineering students are working on a technology called optical propulsion, which could cut travel time to the nearest star system, Alpha Centauri, from over 1,000 years to merely two decades.
Optical propulsion uses lasers to lift and steer objects without physical contact, according to BBC’s Sky at Night Magazine.
Optical propulsion eliminates a lot of the limitations that rocket propulsion tech currently faces, professor of thermodynamics Shoufeng Lán, Ph.D., said.
“The limitation of that is that is that you need to carry the propellant with the spacecraft,” Lán said. “That’s why we are
saying instead of using propellant, using the rocket to propel the spacecraft.”
Using laser light to propel the spacecraft removes the need for carrying other energy forms, Lán said.
Lán used ping-pong balls to explain how the transfer of momentum from light propulsion lasers can accelerate an aircraft.
“You can see that the momentum of a ping-pong ball will be transferred back to the wall,” Lán said. “But if the wall is moveable, then actually that ball will propel the wall. Similarly, you can think of light as a stream of ping-pong balls. So when you have the light punching the surface, it will transfer the momentum of the light.”
The team has used the AggieFab Nanofabrication Facility to design its structures, which are smaller than one micron, about a few hundred nanometers. For reference, one human hair is about 60,000 to 100,000 nanometers wide, according to National Nanotechnology Coordinated Infrastructure.
The team’s small-scale research, however,
is not limited to this size.
“The physics is there,” Lán said. “This is scalable because it’s only related to the power of light.”
This means the applications of this technology are vast and aren’t limited to space travel technology.
One example Lán used is satellites in space.
“What if we can use a laser light to move a satellite a little bit, avoid debris and then move it back,” Lán said.
Laser propulsion technology could also be used to control robots or cargo ships, Lán said.
One of his goals as the director of the Lab for Advanced Nanophotonics and as a professor of undergraduate thermodynamics is to inspire undergraduate students to get involved in research opportunities, Lán said.
“The students get excited when they say, ‘This is cool in the future, possibly we might need to find another Earth in the future,’ and we can achieve that with this [technology],” Lán said. “The application of
this fundamental science of physics, that’s the motivation for students.”
Although A&M’s research team was not the one to invent optical propulsion, it is still a pioneer in the field.
“We’re not the first to invent the optical force, but we are the first to generalize the rules for this manipulation of motion, as well as the demonstration of three-dimensional maneuverability,” Lán said.
Lán said that one of the next steps for the research team involves securing funding to be able to access technology that allows them to practice their experiments in a capacity that mimics gravity in space.
The team’s ultimate goal is to be able to apply its research to real-world space travel technology.
“Overall, we want to do it more close to the real environment and also do some more of the fundamental research to control the motion of the devices or spacecraft,” Lán said. “And eventually, at the end, we want to scale it up. We want to get closer to bigger devices and more fundamentals.”
A&M international student brings professional nail care with artistic flair to campus via Sweet Epiphany Nails
By Kennedy Long Life & Arts Writer
Agricultural economics junior Camila Torres wears a mask to keep the filing dust out of her lungs, but her voice comes through clear enough. As she runs an electric file over her client’s nails — prepping him for the three-hour manicure to come — she details the last year and a half as a student and owner of her nail business, Sweet Epiphany Nails. Torres traveled from Puerto Rico with a professional license and a workaholic mindset. In two short years, she’s transformed her hobby into a fully booked, student-focused business at Texas A&M.
“I did it just for fun, because it was a time that contact dermatitis became a big topic,” Torres said. “And so I wanted to do it safely for myself, my mom and my friends because I’ve always liked doing nails.”
As a 16-year-old high school student with a part-time job, Torres enrolled herself in an influencer-run institute to become a certified nail technician. There, she was taught how to deliver clean, healthy manicures and run a successful business, she said. All the while, her part-time job funded her start-up costs.
“I was a tutor for little kids, and I was working at least 25 hours a week,” Torres said. “So with every paycheck that I received, I would just buy my [equipment] slowly.”
After her graduation, her parents told Torres that they wanted her to go to college in America, so she enrolled at A&M, set to start in Fall 2024. Not long into her first semester, Torres said she took a job on campus to fund her hobby and life in Texas.
“And they were offering like $8 or $9 an hour, and I was like, ‘Yeah, that’s not gonna cut it,’” Torres said. “So I just started doing [nails].”
Looking to get her first clients, Torres posted photos of her nail art on the “Class of 2027” Snapchat story. Within two weeks, her schedule was fully booked.
The first paid client she took was a Delta Zeta member, which Torres said worked out
really well for her budding business. Sharing her nail art with the sorority meant that her growing list of clients was all referrals from friends.
“It really is a word-of-mouth business — word-of-hand, actually,” Torres said. “I don’t really promote myself anymore.”
Torres posts photos of her art on the Sweet Epiphany Nails Instagram page to show off her skills and inspire her clients before their appointments, which are booked through the page. Her favorite appointments, she said, are the ones where clients come in with a vague idea and let her flex her creative muscles while she works. That’s one reason she always welcomes journalism sophomore Stone Chapman back into the chair.
“Every single time that Stone comes here, I’m just ready to do a work of art that I’m ready to show everyone,” Torres said.
Chapman met Torres through a mutual friend and has trusted her with providing his unique nail looks for more than a year, saying that her friendly nature and adaptability keep him coming back.
“My favorite part is that she is so talkative,” Chapman said. “She makes two hours feel like 15 minutes.”
Now a year and a half into her business, Torres said she prides herself on having a signature style that speaks for itself. She said it’s exciting to know that people walking around campus recognize her work: colorful, precise, three-dimensional and featuring a unique design on each nail.
“I’m not just a generic [artist] like everyone else,” Torres said. “And I also like that people feel comfortable showing me whatever and trusting that I can do it.”
On the business side, Torres said she has a sole proprietorship, which is the most common business structure owned by a single individual.
Torres chose to pursue a sole proprietorship to have full control over her business and keep taxes lower, which in turn allows her to keep her prices fair for college students.
“I want this to be more accessible for college students, so I try to keep my costs low, even though I do have top-tier product,” Torres said. “And after college, I plan to make it an LLC [Limited Liability Company].”
After college, Torres said she wants to pursue a corporate career while building Sweet Epiphany Nails as a passion project.
Once the business is further established under an LLC, Torres looks to move


herself and Sweet Epiphany Nails abroad, specifically to Spain or Italy.
“My entire life, people have told me that
I’m more mature for my age,” Torres said. “
… It does give you a sense of responsibility because I’m completely responsible for all this. I also feel responsible for my client’s health and safety, so it definitely makes you more aware of things as a regular college student.”
Hoping to use her degree to keep her
options open, Torres said every aspect of creating her business as a student has been worth the effort if it means she gains autonomy in her career choices moving forward. She encourages any student still struggling with a campus job to think outside the








































broke a 43-year-old A&M record after she produced 73 RBIs in the 2025 season, and this year has been no different, with Perez recording an eye-popping batting average of .455 and 17 home runs.
By Teagan Parker Sports Writer
No. 15 Texas A&M softball is slated
host No. 1 Oklahoma in a top-15 matchup beginning on Thursday, April 30. The two teams share history, having been last scheduled to face off on May 10, 2025, in a battle for the Southeastern Conference Tournament championship. However, in an anticlimactic finish, the contenders never played due to inclement weather and were instead named co-champions.
A&M heads back to College Station after a series loss against South Carolina. The Aggies managed to avoid the sweep with a win in Game 2 but dropped the finale due to a throwing error from senior right-handed pitcher Grace Sparks, with the Gamecocks taking advantage of an error and walking off the game.
The Maroon and White folded in a pivotal moment of the series, but it won’t overshadow the pivotal players on their roster this season.
Junior first baseman Mya Perez is a name that has been in every Aggie softball fan’s mouth, and they should be thankful that Perez isn’t “going back to Cali.”
The Californian has resided with the Aggies since her freshman season in 2024. She
“I just think she’s special, you guys,” head coach Trisha Ford said about Perez in a press conference. “We are so lucky to have her at Texas A&M. She’s probably one of the best pure hitters that I’ve ever coached.”
Oklahoma will still need stellar pitching to overcome Perez, but unfortunately for the Aggies, the red-hot Sooners’ pitching staff has played a substantial role in them earning their No. 1 rank.
Sophomore left-handed pitcher Audrey Lowry is a threat to watch out for. With 102.2 innings of work and flaunting a 2.45 ERA, Lowry is a testament to the Sooners’ strength in the circle.
The Sooners approach Davis Diamond coming off of a series sweep against thenNo. 11 Georgia and are 18-3 in conference play. While its pitching is exceptional, it’s Oklahoma’s chart-topping offense that stuns its opponents.
A major contributor to the team’s nation-best batting average of .401 is junior utility player Ella Parker, the Sooner powerhouse hitter.
Part of the 2024 national championship-winning team and having earned 2025 NFCA First Team All-American accolades, Parker continues to impress in her junior campaign.
The junior yields talent, experience and a whopping .430 batting average. Another Californian slugger, Parker has had four multi-home run games this season, and her bat has yet to cool down. Parker is a key cog in Oklahoma’s potent offense that A&M will have to keep in check this weekend.
In contrast to Perez, Aggie fans may begin to wish that Parker was “going back to Cali.”
Oklahoma is one of the most highly regarded softball programs in the country, partly due to the fact that it has won six national championships in the past 10 years. A&M stands in a great position to dethrone the top-ranked team because of its home field advantage — and sophomore RHP Sydney Lessentine.
Lessentine has thrown 119 innings and bears a 2.82 ERA. The New Mexico native has provided a dominant, reliable arm in the circle. In her freshman break-out season, Lessentine set the program record for most strikeouts in a seven-inning game after she chalked up 19 against Florida A&M. Now a sophomore, Lessentine has recorded 93 strikeouts across 30 appearances. Even more impressive, Lessentine has pitched six complete games thus far, leading her team to victory in all six appearances.

Noah Ruiz
Literature and music have long been filled with tales of return journeys from far-off campaigns: Odysseus’ 10-year voyage back to Ithaca, Dorothy and her quest to the Emerald City and the million or more in between following the same heartwarming theme.
But more simple than that is the short and pleasant tune orchestrated by the late Sam Cooke in the song “Goin’ Home,” spinning a soul-stirring yarn of a young man’s intention to make it back to the place that raised him all while shaking off the darkness that plagued his path away.
“That mornin’ star lights the way, restless dream all done. Shadows gone, break of day! My real life just began,” Cooke sang, weaving in his account of what his trip home meant.
A touching story indeed, one that No. 7 Texas A&M baseball can sympathize with as head coach Michael Earley’s squad will play its first Southeastern Conference game at home since April 12 when it takes on No. 8 Auburn after a weeks-long hiatus. A clash of titans is on its way to Olsen Field, and only “the man who invented soul” can set the scene more perfectly for a pivotal series.

of his young career, tallying 12 home runs and 38 RBIs.
Partida’s legend is already growing as Perfect Game’s Midseason Freshman of the Year, but freshman right fielder Jorian Wilson is rapidly gaining ground on his friend on the other side of the diamond. A true howitzer out of Hallettsville, the 6-foot-4, 240-pounder has sent 11 baseballs to their graves outside of the park, as each and every one has looked like a no-doubter from the second contact is made.
Restless dream all done?
left fielder Bub Terrell.
Shadows gone (yard), break of day!
Cooke’s tunes always carried the gravity of a soul yearning for love and change, and when the Aggies completed their 2025 campaign, Earley and fans alike were looking for both. A renewed love for the game and a literal swing in momentum, and boy, has A&M found it.
After tallying 95 homers last season, the Maroon and White are on track to surpass that mark, launching 87 in their first 41 games of 2026 with at least three series left to play, excluding what could possibly be a lengthy postseason.



Stars light the way
While Cooke was likely talking about the literal celestial bodies above guiding his path to his destination, the Aggies have a collection of out-of-this-world sluggers that have been sending baseballs to the skies with extreme prejudice.
Whatever trial Cooke spoke of in his song, perhaps the story of A&M a season ago carries the same levels of turmoil and redemption. After missing the postseason with an 11-win SEC record, the Aggies have crushed five straight conference opponents, already collecting 14 victories with three series to go.






While junior center fielder Caden Sorrell has long been the front runner for the A&M offense with 59 RBIs and his team-leading 18 homers, his counterpart in the infield is itching to usurp the throne. In a legendary 16-game stretch, junior first baseman Gavin Grahovac has belted 12 longballs, ballooning his RBI total all the way up to 58, the third most in the SEC.
His resurgence has paid dividends, as the offense averages 9.4 runs per game — tied for third in the country. But like the stars in the heavens above, sometimes the youngest ones shine the brightest.
Freshman third baseman Nico Partida has been blowing away scouts and opposing pitches alike by starting every game so far
The pain of 2025 is seemingly out of the way, but Auburn poses a tremendous challenge. The Tigers have the best ERA in the SEC with a 3.29, as War Eagle arms have curbed offenses left, right and center field.
Led by sophomore left-handed pitcher Jake Marciano and his team-leading 2.04 ERA, Auburn’s starting rotation has been deadly efficient, with SEC opponents scoring over seven runs just twice in 21 games. But being one-dimensional is not how the big games are won, and the Tigers have themselves quality batters like the Aggies.
Junior 3B Eric Guevara is a Panameño with a passion for sending baseballs skyward, as he leads his crew with a .380 batting average and 10 home runs, though he shares a tie in the latter category with sophomore
Four different Aggies have sent at least 10 pitches packing beyond the outfield walls, and at least six others have three or more homers as well. The offensive revival for Earley’s unit goes back to the A&M boss himself, as his taking over of hitting coach duties has seemingly been the ultimate difference-maker in the push back toward a national title.
Real life just begun
With just two games separating second and eighth place in the SEC, almost every member of college baseball’s most competitive league is still in contention for the regular-season crown — especially the front-running Aggies and closely trailing Tigers.



After losing Concepcion to NFL, A&M turns to Alabama transfer for size, experience
By Trey Bohne Sports Writer
With the 2026 season on the horizon, Texas A&M football didn’t want just another wide receiver. It needed one that could lead the Aggies’ receiving corps.
Following a historic 2025 season featuring a program-best three road wins over AP Top 25 opponents and a trip to the College Football Playoff, the Aggies lost their star wide receiver, KC Concepcion, to the hands of the Cleveland Browns in the first round of the 2026 NFL Draft.
“If you look at how we tried to makeshift the room, it started with us trying to surround it around a big receiver,” offensive coordinator Holmon Wiggins said in a spring availability on March 17. “It just so happened that that receiver decided to leave, so we got small quickly.”
The offseason reshuffle left A&M short on size, with the search for a big-bodied target becoming a top priority.
The hunt ultimately led to graduate student wide receiver Isaiah Horton, whose arrival wasn’t just about adding depth, but restoring balance.
“We built the room around a big receiver, and we lost that guy,” Wiggins said. “Now we had a chance to go out and get another big body that can help us. Getting a chance to get a bigger body receiver that has a ton of experience, that can make a 50/50 ball, that can run the routes, that can drop his weight, that has the ability to stretch the field vertically, it gives us an option.”
For head coach Mike Elko, Horton fits
into his broader overhaul of the offense’s playmaking ability, a primary goal of the program since his hiring in 2024.
“When we got here, we talked about the need to upgrade playmakers on offense, and that position group, in particular, was a group where we felt like we had to do it,” Elko said in a spring availability on March 24. “I think we’ve built a room that has a lot of dynamic playmakers and a lot of playmaking capability.”
In the Maroon & White Game on April 18, Horton already began to show why he was such a hot commodity.
“I think he did a lot of what we hoped he would be able to do for us: make contested catches,” Elko said after the Maroon & White Game on April 18. “He made a contested catch over a defensive back … that’s what height can give you at the wide receiver position. He’s had a really good spring for us, and we obviously expect him to be a major player for us this fall.”
After three seasons at Miami, Horton spent the 2025 season playing for Alabama, securing 42 receptions for 511 yards and eight touchdowns. As a veteran pass catcher, the Crimson Tide transfer adds valuable experience to Wiggins’ otherwise young receiving core.
“I know the experience that he brings … the leadership … how he’s wired,” Wiggins said in a spring availability on March 17. “I think all of those things will end up permeating throughout not only the [wide receiver] room, but also the offense.”
Inside the locker room, Horton’s impact is clear. But the expectations may be even higher.
“It’s great, I love Isaiah being here,” redshirt sophomore WR Ashton Bethel-Roman said in a spring availability on March 24. “I saw this list on Instagram … it was like ‘best receiving cores’ … we were seven.
We have real dogs, people who understand the game of football, more than just being good at it, but we understand the game, have ball knowledge … I feel like we could be No. 1, best in the nation … Isaiah could be the missing piece.”
Redshirt Junior running back Rueben Owens II echoed that statement.
“I believe coach Elko did really well in the portal, adding some new pieces,” Owens said in a spring availability on March 20. “We need it.”
For fellow pass catcher, junior WR Mario Craver, Horton’s presence changes how opposing defenses will account for the Aggie offense.
“It’ll just give us the ability to spread everything out even more, spread the ball vertically, have Isaiah out there, at that X,” Craver said in a spring availability on March 26. “He’s a competitor. Anytime anybody challenges him, he’s going to step up to the challenge. It’s going to be good for this room to have a lot of competition in there, just like KC last year.
Even on the other side of the ball, Horton immediately impressed.
“I think Isaiah Horton was a really big get for us,” senior safety Marcus Ratcliffe said in a spring availability on March 24. “He’s a really big body receiver, and he’s fast at the same time, so I’m really excited to see how he works, come game time.”
But Horton’s addition isn’t just about size or speed. It’s also about something far less common — built-in chemistry.
Redshirt junior quarterback Marcel Reed and Horton go back years, long before either arrived in Aggieland.
“Everybody knows that he’s from my hometown,” Reed said in a spring availability on April 9. “Having that connection previous to him coming here is super special … I’m just excited to be playing with
him and having that Nashville bond on the field. We’ve always been able to come back home in the offseason and train together. We’ve always had me throwing the ball and him catching it. It’s familiar to us.”
The duo’s familiarity shows up in the details and could become A&M’s defining offensive advantage.
“He’s going to be a huge factor,” Reed said. “When you have a guy who’s 6-foot3-plus on the outside, where you can throw some one-on-one balls … it’s going to be critical … especially in the red zone. Having a vertical threat like that with speed and size is going to be really good for us.”
For Horton, the connection proved to be a major factor in his decision to join the Maroon and White.
“I believe in Coach Elko’s culture that he’s building here,” Horton said in a spring availability on April 2. “I believe in Marcel Reed. He’s a guy from my hometown, and we grew up together. I believe in him with all my heart. We met around middle school, going into high school. We played seven-on-seven together, so we traveled all over the country. He was my seven-on-seven quarterback, and we just meshed … real recognized real.”
Now reunited, Horton steps into a role of expectation and responsibility — one that he embraces.
“I feel like I bring leadership, I bring experience, on the field, I bring explosiveness, a big-body X receiver who can go down the field and make those one-on-one catches,” Horton said. “Whatever the team needs me to do, that’s what I’m here for.”
For the Aggies, the need for a star wide receiver was clear.
And now, so is the answer.
“I’m going to bring it,” Horton said. “Whenever it’s a 50/50 ball, it’s more like a 100% ball.”

By Ian Curtis Senior Enterprise Reporter
When No. 3 Texas A&M women’s tennis found out that it would be facing Quinnipiac in the first round of the NCAA Championships, a few yells and laughs rang out through the Mitchell Tennis Center.
“Being able to make it so deep, all the way to the end, for multiple years, that brings a lot of confidence, knowing that we’re fully capable of doing that and having experienced that before. Like, none of these big moments really overwhelm us.”
While the Aggies have a bit of a different look than last year in the wake of program legend Mary Stoiana’s departure and senior Nicole Khirin’s injury-induced absence, a major factor in A&M continuing its winning streak — the Maroon and White claimed their fifth straight Southeastern Conference regular-season championship this season — has been the rise of junior Lucciana Perez.

In what has become a bit of a pattern over the past several years, the 4-seed Aggies open the tournament by hosting the Bobcats out of the Metro Atlantic Athletic Conference in the first round at 1 p.m. on Saturday, May 2.

“It’s kind of funny, because they’re just not a school that we ever see in during the regular season at all, and then they kind of always end up coming here for the first round,” senior Mia Kupres said.
“So this is my fourth time playing the tournament, and the third time playing them in the first round.”
The winner of that match will face off against the winner of the first-round matchup between Baylor and Wisconsin.
A&M is looking to make it back to the national championship match after appearances in both 2024 — when the Aggies won the national title — and 2025, when it finished as national runner-up at the tournament finals in Waco. Several players on this year’s squad were a part of both of those runs.
“Half the lineup has won the national championship, and then also last year, a lot of us are returning from playing that national championship match,” Kupres said.
After playing on Court 4 for the Aggies last season, the Peruvian star has not only risen to the top of A&M’s lineup, but is the nation’s No. 1-ranked singles player and was named the SEC Player of the Year.
“She’s been awesome,” associate head coach James Wilson said. “ … Definitely the most consistent work ethic on our team. It started last year, and really was able to build her game this fall, and really has worked on some things that maybe she wasn’t so good at, but just her mentality every day is just really, really consistent. She brings great intensity and is very, you know, open also to coaching. She’s very open to new suggestions.”
On the court, Wilson said she’s become more aggressive and her serving has taken a clear step up. But more important than that, he said, was how much more coachable she has become.

Learning to accept and heal your romantic insecurities
By Joshua Abraham Associate Opinion Editor
In my 22 years of living, I have never been in a romantic relationship. Sure, there have been opportunities, but every time I have tried to get to know someone, I’ve ended up in the same place I started.
And I hate to report that it’s all been my fault. I’m the reason why I’m single. It’s not that being single is a bad thing, but I have jeopardized every situation I put myself in, and I can’t place blame anywhere other than on my own doing.
Every situation has started the same: I get to know someone and really like them. We share the same similarities and passions, and it seems we could be a good fit; they might be someone I’m interested in pursuing.
But then it veers down a path of utter pain and despair. Just when I think everything is going great, my insecurities start to bubble up, telling me not to trust this person or that I should be overanalyzing anything and everything they do. One brick is quickly laid on top of another in a wall that only keeps growing higher, held together by the mortar of my self-doubt.
I let my insecurities get the best of me. I implode and lash out at them. Then they do the same because the best defense is always a good offense. It’s a bloodbath, and we come out of it with battle wounds, emotional scars and the realization that we shouldn’t be talking to each other anymore.
When those aforementioned bricks began to build up over time to create this wall that keeps me out of a relationship, it was because I couldn’t show the other person that I had a problem, whether with them or myself. No one wants to face problems; where’s the fun in that? Everyone wants to live their lives without hardship, hoping to bury their insecurities and praying that they don’t rise to the surface.
But that isn’t the way life goes.
Modern love has been built on maintaining a certain perception that you should always be the best version of yourself if you want to be in a relationship. I always thought that you should be the “picture-perfect” person for someone, that character from the movies who every woman sees and says, “I want someone like him because he has no flaws, or at least none that I can find.”

But, again, that isn’t real life, and I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to realize it.
I am plagued with insecurities that are bound to come out in any relationship; it’s just something I can’t avoid. I have trust issues, I yell when I get frustrated, I have no confidence, I dissociate from everything when things get difficult — these aren’t things that make me the perfect partner I want to be, but it’s what makes me human, albeit a broken one.
I used to think that once these parts of me did appear and cause havoc, a “game over” screen would pop up, taking me back to the starting page to create a new character and try again with someone else. But this is where the story actually starts, where people get to see the real me.
I’m not saying that I should go around being the worst version of myself — that couldn’t be further from the truth. But when I do implode or get frustrated, instead of hitting the quit button, I should communicate with them, tell them I’m sorry this happened, that I want to be better. That I will try to prevent this from happening again, because they deserve someone who only wants to be the best version of themself.
I didn’t have to quit the game; it was just a level within it. My insecurities didn’t define me; they allowed me to become better.
When I get to my wedding day, and I see the woman whom I will have tied the knot with for the rest of my life, I hope that she loves me for who I truly am, not who I want her to think I am — because I want to love her for everything she is.
All her good and bad, her intelligence and stubbornness. What gets her through the day and what makes her cry during the night. It’s her complete self that I truly want to love. Why wouldn’t I do the same, show the same vulnerability? Why wouldn’t I want to work toward a better version of myself, as ugly as that may be? Why would I conceal this part of myself if that’s what I expect from my partner?
This starts way before my day of matrimony. I have learned that I must accept these parts of myself, that the ones I’ve wanted to hide shouldn’t be neglected. My insecurities are a part of me, but I want to solve them. It shouldn’t only be a reason for me to explode, but rather a reason to get better.
I went through college attaching these insecurities to every relationship I was in,
then wondering why people didn’t want to be with me after I blew up. In turn, I knew I had these insecurities, so I thought I couldn’t show them. But what if I just tried to become a better person instead of calling it quits?
Maybe that’s what’s most important: improvement. We aren’t the perfection we desire to be, the gods we strive toward; we’re the people who come into the church to be healed, praying for our feeble little hearts to be purified. My affirmation is that even though it might be difficult, ugly or painful, there’s beauty in trying to become better. There’s beauty in wanting to improve even when you feel you can’t. Because we should all strive to be the partners we want to become for each other, even if we aren’t right now. If you’re trying to build a house, where do you start? Do you start at the roof and work your way down, or do you set a foundation and go up?
Addressing your wounds, insecurities and pain is your foundation. It’s time to build upward.
Joshua Abraham is a kinesiology senior and associate opinion editor for The Battalion.

Sustaining devotion demands perpetual pursuit over passivity
By Isabella Garcia Senior Opinion Columnist
For as long as I can remember, love was a sort of spell, something that made my heart race and left a warm ache all over.
But really, for me to be loved was to be watched; I imagined some boy was obsessed with me, so I became obsessed with myself.
Though I’ve had eight years of relationship experience, for the vast majority of that time, my ideas of love were nothing more than romanticized delusions, contrived out of an illusory grasp on the only sane and satisfactory answer to the problem of my lonely existence.
Granted, it makes sense that my younger self gave in so easily to such superficial notions. What else could I have expected when they were shaped by the inexorable passion of “Twilight,” the gorgeous damsel who literally just waited around and yearned in “Sleeping Beauty” or the happily ever after of “Cinderella”? She’s someone I hope I’ve outgrown, of course, but whom I still recognize with pity and mirth.
I’ve come to understand that love is not passive, something to suddenly “fall into” or
“out of” based on fleeting emotions and the fanciful pinings of adolescence: It’s a perpetually active pursuit, a decision one must make every day.
It should come as no surprise that I have no patience for deterministic sentiments, and I adamantly maintain that the foundation of loving someone lies in endeavoring to.
So when I hear countless relationships end because of “losing the spark” or someone “deserving better,” I am filled with frustration. It would be more accurate to say that the relationship didn’t end; it failed.
The former implies it was due to circumstances beyond your control and evades culpability, but the latter acknowledges you have the agency to prevent that from happening.
If you’ve lost the connection that previously tethered your souls — if there even is such a thing — what’s preventing you from finding it once more? Wherever did the ridiculous notion that this all-consuming and arguably life-altering experience was supposed to be easy come from?
And if you find that your partner still deserves better, then be better — stop circumventing accountability by saying you “can’t” and just admit that you won’t. I would be remiss, however, not to acknowledge that our nature is mutable; the human experience a constant state of be-
coming. So, how do we reconcile loving someone with the inevitability that this someone isn’t permanent? In other words, how can we love someone if we don’t ever really know who they are?
There are two answers: Either we can never truly love anyone — which is fundamentally antithetical to my existentialist beliefs and the agency to be derived from them — or our understanding of what it means to “know” someone must be flexible. I opt for the second option — shocker — but I think we’re much more inclined to accept it regardless.
Everyone navigates the unknown in their daily lived experiences, doing their best to accept that they must make decisions in the face of inevitable uncertainty. Refusal to do so is simply impractical — how could you expect to get anything done otherwise? It would be a veritable paralysis.
Think of all the things you trust in your life: religion, stop signs, institutions of authority, family, friends. But just as trust can only exist because of — and not despite — uncertainty, loving is not only knowing, but also being able to not know.
I mean, how we portray ourselves, which is who we are to some extent — whether we admit it or not — varies depending on who or what we’re surrounded by. And if those situations are always changing at any given moment, can we honestly say we even
know ourselves?
So it must be that knowing someone isn’t compatible with a rigid definition of them, as though they were merely an object. Rather, it seems to be broader; it’s more abstract and better explained, perhaps, by likening it to understanding them.
Understanding what it means to love is futile, therefore, without first being able to understand whom you love.
Out of all the interactions I’ve had throughout my life, there came times when I felt loved because I was understood. Whether it was something I did, maybe something I said, for a moment, they caught me in their look; however briefly, who I was became captured in their understanding of me.
They saw me.
And so, you can never assume that your partner is the same person the next morning simply because you went to sleep next to them the night before. Always remember to be curious, mindful of how they’re changing and why.
To love someone is therefore to understand them; to see them even when you don’t recognize them. It is up to each of us, however, to ensure that doing so never comes at the cost of loving ourselves. Isabella Garcia is






‘The


Managing editor Mathias Cubillan graduates from Texas A&M with a bachelor’s in journalism on Friday, May 8
By Mathias Cubillan Managing Editor
I don’t know if I should have gone to Texas A&M. In fact, I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t have.
I remember sitting next to my mom, watching as a handful of himbos in white janitor getups paced back and forth across the stage at my New Student Conference. From that moment, I knew I would never get on board with the traditions at this school — perhaps the worst mentality to have as a student at a school that is basically its own religion.
I’ve never posed with a Gig ‘em in a picture, I never purchased an Aggie Ring, and swaying back and forth interlocked with a gaggle of sweaty supporters sounds like an activity tailor-made to punish me.
I don’t say this all to sound different or holier-than-thou; I actually wish I had embraced the culture. But I didn’t, and that made everything harder.
I spent many an evening my freshman year walking all over campus in a malaise, lonely and jealous of seeing other people enjoying the typical college experience.
It wasn’t until I trekked down into the unending, windowless beige of the newsroom that I finally met the people I will carry with me forever. Inside that asbestos-filled basement, I had some of the hardest conversations of my life but was also forced to confront so much about myself and grow up fast.
The Battalion gave me a vessel to pour myself into. It gave me a reason to obsess and agonize over every word, every edit. It’s taken me across the country and given me opportunities that I am unbelievably privileged to have had. But traveling to football Mmeccas or California conferences still felt secondary to the ordinary nights in the newsroom, when nothing important was happening, but everything felt meaningful in a way I didn’t fully understand at the time.
Thank you, Luke, my first editor at The Batt. You had no reason to take a chance on a guy without writing experience and even less of a reason to put me on football coverage so early, but I’ll forever be grateful to you for being the first person to believe I had something to offer in this space.
Matthew, from your overalls at my first editor training to your snarky press box
comments and even the Chinese hotel, I’ll remember every moment you’ve made me laugh. Noah, you’re one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met and immediately made the San Antonio Grim Reaper critical to this group’s culture.
Isa, every conversation we’ve had has made me smarter, and I’m grateful every time you share one of your thoughts — they only ever show how deeply you care. Julia, your enthusiasm was a saving grace during the many monotonous moments, and your presence truly energizes every room you enter.
Ian, I couldn’t appreciate you more for taking a chance on me as an editor, welcoming me into a group of truly unique voices and being someone I could always count on beyond work. Kynlee, a simple thank you doesn’t come close to doing you justice — not only for being a great partner in leadership this semester, but for being the perfect friend — however I’m trying to keep your tears to a minimum as you edit this.
Thank you, Nico, Julia, David, J.M.,Tenny, Hilani, Fallon, Avery, Sophia, Charis, Josh, Maeva, Kaleb, Ava, Braxton, Zoe, Pranay, Caleb, Julius, Sophie, Theresa, Steve, Rocio, Adriano, Chris, Ashely, Hannah, Roman, DJ and Chen, for each sharing a little part of yourself to make this place special.
We’ve done so much together, but what I’ll remember most is doing nothing. I’ll remember the worst impressions that somehow always got a laugh, I’ll remember throwing the deflated football around the room dangerously close to the heads of anybody in range, and I’ll remember the random conversations we had in the newsroom when we should have been working.
I’ll remember every single person who stumbled through the doldrums of the MSC to find this corner of controlled chaos. I’ll remember every laugh, every quote up on that wall and every second of hanging out with friends that made every moment worth it.
Perhaps I got it wrong. I spent so much time believing I had to love this school in the way that everybody else did without ever realizing that I loved it in the only way that mattered to me.
Not through Howdys or hand signs, but through smudged ink, late nights and the memories that felt small at the time but will forever loom large.
I’ll never know if Texas A&M was the right school for me — I’ll always have my doubts. But I never, for a second, questioned whether The Battalion was where I wanted to be.
Associate opinion editor Joshua Abraham graduates from Texas A&M with a bachelor’s in kinesiology on Saturday, Aug. 8
By Joshua Abraham Associate Opinion Editor
Fate is a funny thing because you never know when fate actually happens.
There are certain moments in your life that, as you look back on, you realize were clearly meant to be. These are parts of your life that shaped who you were, that you can’t see yourself without.
However, attending Texas A&M was never on my “fate radar.” I came here because some of my high school friends were attending, so I thought it seemed right. I’m the first ever Aggie in my family, and I didn’t think about it much when I decided to come here.
I also never thought I would be part of a newspaper. I came into college determined to be a doctor, a dream of mine since I was a child. Writing never seemed to fit that narrative, but walking past news stands every day between classes, it felt like a magnet was pulling me in, a calling I kept resisting.
Upon reading some movie reviews I thought I could write better, and after meeting someone who encouraged me to apply, I landed on the opinion desk with no writing experience. I started writing and fell in love with it. I found a part of myself that was locked in a faraway chamber, just waiting to be discovered.
Because fate has a way of calling for you, and you can’t escape what life has planned for you.
I’ve written about goth people, LeBron James being a feminist and my pookiebear Marcel Reed. I got an award, then another one and then I think another — I stopped keeping track. I also might’ve been responsible for shutting down ticket pull, and I do apologize to the student body for that.
Then I became an opinion editor, something I never thought I’d be able to do. I helped others find what I found within myself, a wildfire that couldn’t be contained. I also worked alongside some amazing people who helped me become not only a great writer and editor, but also a better person.
So, as I look back at my experience at
The Battalion, it may not have seemed like it in the moment, but this was my fate.
On a campus as vast as A&M, I found my place within the confines of a room in the basement of the MSC, and I found myself in it.
Fate also led me to these incredible people:
Charis and Maddie, you were my inspirations as I came into the desk, and I’m grateful I could follow in your footsteps to become the writer I am today.
Isa, I literally wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. Thank you for shaping the person I am today, both in my writing and as a human. I share all my awards and accomplishments with you, and I’m thankful that you were not only the best editor one could ask for but also have become one of my best friends.
Maeva, thank you for being the greatest co-editor to help me lead, my partner in crime. Thanks for putting up with my insanity this semester, because there’s no one else I wanted to run the opinion desk with other than you. I’m so happy with what we’ve accomplished together, and there’s nobody I’d trust more to run this desk in the future. Merci d’être dans ma vie.
To the opinion desk, Sidney,Wyatt, Aidan, Thea, Bethany, Abby, Marie and Prachi, I’m so excited to see what y’all do with your lives, and I’m thankful that I could’ve been a small part of it. Go and be great.
Kynlee and Mathias, thanks for being the best bosses and letting me run with the crazy ideas in my head. I’m forever grateful to both of you for taking a chance on me. To the rest of the editorial team, it has been a pleasure working with each of you. From random chats, crashing out over soccer teams and Nettspend reviews, y’all were the best part of my days.
To my friends who have put up with me over the years: Kash, Madhav, Jacob, Shane, Christian, Sarina, Ana and Emily, I’m so glad to have y’all in my life.
Finally, to Mom, Dad, Sarah, Jayden and Fisher, thank you for being my greatest supporters and critics; I would not be here today without your love and support.
As my time here concludes, I thank fate for bringing me here. I thank it for showing me this newsroom and everyone who impacted my life. Because other than fate not telling you when it comes around, it also doesn’t tell you to accept it into your life. That’s for you to decide, for you to choose. And I choose The Battalion in every lifetime, just like it chose me.


Sports editor Matthew Seaver graduates from Texas A&M with a bachelor’s in communication on Friday, May 8
By Matthew Seaver Sports Editor
I’ve been sports editor of The Battalion for two years and before that, I served as sports writer for about a year and a half. In that time I’ve covered everything from horse stables to Kyle Field, and I wouldn’t trade my time with this silly little publication and the people that make it up for anything in the world.
To be totally honest, I was completely lost before applying to The Batt in the spring of 2023. I had always dreamt of one day calling myself an “Aggie engineer” and failing to achieve that goal was a pivotal moment of my life.
I had zero direction when I remembered a quote that has guided me through most of my life. “Whatever you choose to do, just enjoy and love it and have fun with it.” Believe it or not, this statement from an E60 chronicling the life of NFL veteran and Tampa Bay Buccaneers legend Gerald McCoy has saved me more than once.
This arbitrary quote from a straight-toTV documentary in 2014 changed my life. I still remember watching it for the first time and admiring how McCoy did everything — including sacking NFL quarterbacks — with a smile. I chased that same joy by applying to become a sports writer.
As lame as it may sound, I will proudly boast my love for sports until the day I die. Sports have given me everything I have in life. From growing my relationship with my family and creating countless memories alongside my friends to learning lifelong lessons from a multitude of coaches.
I will always cherish practicing shotgun snaps in the backyard with my dad, Louis Seaver ‘88, and grabbing an infinite amount of rebounds for my brother, Thomas Seaver ‘22. And I couldn’t have asked for more sideline support from my mom, Kathleen Seaver ‘88, and sister, Elizabeth Maureen Seaver ‘18. Oh, and to this day, I can still hear the screeching voices of Coach Raffield, Coach Spotted Wolf and Coach Farris telling me to keep pushing myself.
All of these factors are why I chose to join The Batt. But I would’ve never known about this basement-run paper without my oldest sister, Meredith Seaver ‘17, a Batt alum herself, as she encouraged me to apply when my premature existential crisis came
calling. Now I don’t remember what my application looked like, or what I said in my interview, but I’ve truly enjoyed every second with this newspaper.
And after a year and a half of working as a sports writer I’d have never even applied to become an editor if it wasn’t for my girlfriend, Frida Guajardo ‘26. I didn’t believe I had what it took, but she told me the same thing she always does.
“You won’t know if you don’t try.”
So I tried and submitted my editor application — slightly after the 11:59 p.m. deadline, might I add — and I eventually earned the right to serve as sports editor, a position I could have only ever dreamt of holding when I first applied. Thank you for pushing me to get here Pookie, mi corazón es muy gordo con amor por ti.
In my two years defending the glorious sports desk, I have gotten to work alongside some incredible people. Luke White ‘24, somehow the most intelligent and comedically awkward person I’ve ever met.
Mathias Cubillan ‘26, I don’t think I could have asked for a better bud in this crappy windowless office, I looked forward to our conversations every day and will forever cherish dropping random ball knowledge together.
Even this semester I’ve had the privilege of working alongside two brilliant minds.
First Ava Loth ‘27, the most lowkey hilarious person, I can’t wait to keep reading your bylines. Last but not least, Noah Ruiz ‘26, they don’t come much more real than the “San Antonio Grim Reaper,” never change.
Without rattling off four semester’s worth of people, to any one of my peers I’ve ever worked alongside, played pickleball against, gone to a conference with #TIPATime or even just cracked a joke with, thank you. I’ll carry the countless memories made working for this publication with me forever.
If you told the same 19 year old nearly failing all his classes and crying about his major that in a little over three years he’d be writing a farewell article to the student newspaper, he would’ve never believed you. In all honesty writing this article is quite surreal. I love this newspaper and all the people that it encompasses.
I hope I’ve made proud any person that’s guided my education. Some professors I’m thankful to mention include Angelique Gammon ‘81, Joseph Lopez, Jonathan Guajardo and Flora Charner. You’ve all influenced my view of the media landscape and what it takes to be successful.
I don’t know if or when there will be another byline from Matthew Seaver, but for the final time this is Battalion sports editor signing out.




Associate sports editor Noah Ruiz graduates from Texas A&M with a bachelor’s in sport management and a minor in Spanish on Friday, May 8
By Noah Ruiz Associate Sports Editor
No matter what I did in college, I know one thing: I did it right.
From the moment I stepped on campus, I engrossed myself in who I already knew I was, which of course is the loudest, the proudest Fightin’Texas Aggie from the Class of 2026. But even in painting my overalls all the way to making some of the best friends in the whole world, there was something missing — a true home on campus.
While I always had this yearning, it wasn’t until just days before the end of sophomore year that, unbeknownst to me, I discovered my path into this family that I have grown to love, which ironically enough was an ad I saw for a sports writer while doomscrolling.
I’ll never forget dressing up in khaki pants, a button-up and my nicest shoes waiting outside the Student Media Office just to be welcomed in by a tie-dye shirt and some casual shorts. Little did I know that that’s what The Battalion is: a home for everybody and for every style, and Lord knows I have found my place there.
From grilling and pickleball to the rants and laughs found in the stories of our everyday lives, the friendships I have made in that windowless basement have always had a glow of life that makes Wednesday print night hours feel worthwhile in the company of each other. I may be a man of many words, but to y’all, I can’t begin to describe what this all means to me.
What they don’t tell you is the benefits of the sports writer job (or maybe they did but I didn’t read any of the application when I applied). I got free box dinners, choice seats and being a part of moments in Aggie history in a way I could’ve never imagined, and they paid me to do it! Hell, I got to talk with a Heisman winner (shoutout Lawrence Ruiz ‘91 and Ty Detmer)!
To the Atascocita and Cypress Grim Reapers, you both will always have my friendship, and I can’t thank you enough for making my time as an editor hilariously fun.
The sky may have been coming down on
us a few times, but it wasn’t anything a few Slack emojis couldn’t fix, or maybe a cold one or two.
To Julius, David, Josh, Steve and Ian, y’all have been my boys, and I am thankful for everything we have bonded over and the moments we have made the Batt Cave our second home. Between the based alarm, Dr. Doctor and cookouts at the Ruiz Residence, y’all have become brothers to me in a very short time.
To Zoe, Julia, Fallon, Sophia, Maeva, Theresa and Rocio, y’all have always had smiling faces in the office and the jokes we have all shared make me grateful to call y’all my friends, and I wouldn’t trade y’all for any other group of people to share one long desk filled with quotes, newspapers and other knickknacks.
And finally to my commanding officers, Kynlee Joyner and Matguas Cubillan, you brought me on to the staff, and I can’t thank you enough for the opportunities it’s brought me. I may not be a journalist in my future, but thanks to y’all I got more than I could type on a computer or write on the whiteboard — I got memories to circle back to when the grown-up world gets to rear its head.
Y’all helped me combine my passion for sports and history, and more than that y’all made every day in that office something we all wanted to be a part of and didn’t want to end.Through good times and bad, y’all were our rock, and I am proud to call myself an editor/writer of the best staff in 133 years of print.
Thank you, St. Mary’s Catholic Church for making me the man God calls me to be. Thank you, The Battalion for teaching me what being an Aggie really means, and thank you my beautiful school for truly being the place I was dreaming about since the first time I heard that beautiful Aggie War Hymn when I was a boy.
And finally to you, my friends who are reading this. I hope the time we have spent together means just as much to you as it means to me and know that I never forget a friend no matter what side of the globe you go off to.
I may have never made it on the field in a playing capacity, but I was always batting 1.000. Texas A&M, I won’t forget the memories. ¡Vaya con Dios; have a Battalion day!
Noah Ruiz will return to action against The Next Stage of His Life beginning on May 8, 2026, with first pitch slated for 7 p.m.


Former photo chief Adriano Espinosa graduates from Texas A&M with a bachelor’s in industrial distribution on Thursday, May 7
By Adriano Espinosa Former Photo Chief
As an Aggie engineer who meanders around as a photographer for a newspaper,I’m often asked what drew me to photography and journalism at The Battalion.
The question I am asked less often, yet is even more important, is why I stick around photojournalism. For most who ask about The Batt, the furthest they tend to get is “how cool being on the field must be” or that I’m “so lucky to be right there when the big moment happened,” and to be frank, they are completely right.
Whether it be the first Lone Star Showdown football game in over a decade, United States Secretaries Robert F. Kennedy Jr. and Brooke Rollins ‘94 visiting A&M, photographing the school’s interim president midinterview or Aggie traditions such as Student Bonfire, I’ve experienced Aggieland unlike most. Being so close to the action, the emotions are intensified. More importantly, the experiences are further heightened by how personal connections in my life weave through my work and the stories I tell.
Last year, for example, the Aggie football team decisively bested LSU on the road, 4925, for the first time since 1994. Interestingly, just as I witnessed the victory in person, as a senior, my dad witnessed the last road victory in Death Valley, as a senior at A&M, in 1994. As the team roared around me, hundreds of Aggies piling into the bottom of the stands, I thought of him. Seeing pieces of him in my Aggie experience has become strangely emotional for me. Lived 32 years later, the distance closes with every step I retrace through my own Aggie experience, finding pieces of him along my own path.
Likewise, I’ve also retraced the steps of another family member through my journalistic work. Something I didn’t learn until after joining The Battalion, and well after his death, was my grandfather’s history with journalism and amateur photography.
As a kid, I was always told about “Papa the Doctor,” only ever seeing him when he came to international medical conferences in the States on behalf of a Venezuelan medical embassy or another organization,
never hearing about how he was an opinion columnist and a published author.
Only when I grew older, well after he died of cancer, did I learn about his work in writing, and how much of himself he left in books and articles. Although I struggle to remember what his voice sounds like, his writing speaks for him. Before the wheezing of his voice and the hobble of his last steps, I can wind back the clock to the vigor of his voice and his whiplike wit.
At the same time, I now also carry his cameras, which, like all cameras, carry their own stories. Just as he wandered the world with his cameras, I’ve taken them as far east as Thailand and as far north as Iceland, capturing black sands, gigantic glaciers and millennia-old temples on film. Atop Kerið, a volcanic crater, I thought of him and wept as the camera shuttered a 35mm photo.
Carrying his cameras is not only a reminder of the life he lived, but the life photography has taken in mine since his passing. Although I began photography unaware of his artistic affinities, his work and equipment spur me on, keepsakes of a life well lived.
Working at The Battalion, I found purpose in my photography. Under the guidance of Ishika, Kyle, Chris and Hannah, my photos gained intentionality, and over time, I found my voice. At the same time, I retrace the steps of my father through Aggieland and my grandfather through the photos I take of it.
When I’m asked why I work at The Batt, I often respond by showing pictures of my work, ranging from the game-winning Nate Boerkircher catch versus Notre Dame, beep baseball or Muster. I’m quick to share photos and my stories, capturing them, detailing the buildup, the decisive moment and the emotional aftermath. In my passion for communicating the drama of the moment captured in still photo, I often forget to emphasize why I capture those moments in the first place.
To amend those lapses, I write the following. Through my life experience, I have found it best to preserve the beauty of life and the people who live it in the frame of a photo. Cameras capture an instant, freezing a moment in a shutter and a feeling forever. In my struggle to communicate the beauty of life, the pain of death and every emotion in between with words, I use a camera instead. My craft has evolved through the course of cataloging my time as an Aggie, but that journey is ending soon. I will remember my time here forever, and if forever isn’t enough, I’ve got more than a few photos of it to spare.
Former associate photo chief Ashely Bautista graduates from Texas A&M with a bachelor’s in communication on Friday, May 8
By Ashely Bautista Former Associate Photo Chief
When asked if I wanted to write a Swan Song, my first thought was no. I’m a photographer; I am behind the camera. I don’t know what to write about or what to say, and I am not even graduating until May. I have time!
Well, time could not slow down enough. Four years in a basement, under so many levels and a difficult way to find around in the MSC couldn’t have gone so fast that I wish the moment just stopped.
In high school, I never really thought about where I would go or what I would want to pursue. I originally had a plan to become a vet and go to vet school and build from there. WELL. WHAT. A. TURN.
When I took photography classes my sophomore year, I didn’t think it would take me to the photography route. I also definitely didn’t think applying for a news photographer internship in my hometown would get me into the news route. It was only once I got into Texas A&M I knew that I wanted to find a community of people who also didn’t have a plan to join an underground publication, but it happened, and I couldn’t have asked for better.
Joining The Batt straight out of high school in August 2022 when I was sent an email about applying for The Battalion, I was wanting to get my foot into the news industry and see where I could go from there. So staying for four years here was definitely not part of my plan, but I would not have changed it any other way.
While I came in with what I would say, at the least, a knowledgeable background in photography, becoming a staff photographer for a school publication changed my perspective in how I shoot and, honestly, I had to start all over. From which angles to shoot, getting people’s names, stepping outside my shell or even captioning (and don’t get me started on captions) I had to learn from the ground up and build from there. But getting those points from my editors at the time — Ish, Kyle, Chris and Hannah (miss y’all!) — changed my style
for the better.
From staff photographer to photo chief was a big jump, and while I didn’t think I could be there, it also helped me better understand myself in a leadership position where others look for your advice and points … not gonna lie, that scared me for a bit because I didn’t know if I gave the right points or not.
However, it helped me learn to understand my judgment and how to make sure I am producing quality content for the publication alongside the photographers that are coming after me.
Photography is my outlet for everything.
I got a chance to step away from the problems of this world and get into my creativity, my passion and my story in how I see this campus, city, state, etc., through my eyes and share it with others. Whether it’s through a player scoring a point, students sharing their right to protest, performers strutting their talents or even a building on the side of the road, The Batt showed me what it has to offer, and through hard work it can get you far.
As I am going into the real world, I have a chance to find myself, my passion and my goals for my future, and I can very much thank this underground, small room hidden inside the MSC and the students who run it for that.
To my editors — Steve and Rocio —
I could not have been more proud and grateful for y’all. I know that y’all are going to make it far and wide with everything that y’all shoot for, and I can’t wait to see it. I know I learned a lot from you as I hope you’ve learned from me (if not then welp …). No words can express how I feel, so I’m going to send y’all a photo of it. Keep going beyond, keep building and keep being the astonishing photographers I know to love and admire!
To my editorial peeps — (every single one of y’all that is reading and editing this, because there’s a lot of y’all) — thank you for the laughs, the great and sad times, the late nights and the wonderful memories I will cherish for life. I know every single one of you is going to go far, and I can’t wait to see what life has for y’all!
For those to come — this is a group of people you will forever love whether you planned for it or not. Cherish these moments while you can.
I could not thank you guys enough for everything, and while I may not have planned for any of it, I could not regret it. I’ll see you guys on the other side (of the stage).


Senior opinion columnist Isabella Garcia graduates from Texas A&M with a bachelor’s in economics on Friday, May 8
By Isabella Garcia Senior Opinion Columnist
I’ve watched lots of goodbyes to The Batt.
Some were lighthearted, like former sports editor Luke White’s as he kneeled at our then-editor-in-chief’s feet to be knighted after our last print; others, less so, like former opinion columnist Maddie McMurrough’s as we shared stories and cried into our fries at the Dixie Chicken.
But honestly, they were never truly goodbyes.
Because you don’t just let go once, that’s the first mistake. It could be five years from now, but then I’ll see a double space after a period or notice the straight apostrophes while reading some novel, and suddenly I’m right back in the newsroom, rubbing my eyes with ink-stained hands at midnight, and it’ll be goodbye all over again.
It’s these goodbyes no one ever warns you about; the quiet, unremarkable ones said over a lifetime.
So, this may be my Swan Song, but this isn’t really goodbye.
Ryan, thank you for putting up with my multiple rage-quits and bad writing, but especially for encouraging me to be an editor — I never forgot to fill out my photo requests. I know all good things must come to an end, but I hope one day I’ll get to say
Charis, you guided me through everything even though you were just as lost. Your smile made me forget how exhausted I was every print, and you made me look forward to walking into a room full of people I didn’t know because I knew you’d be there for me. Some nights, I swear I can still hear echoes of your laugh.
Sidney, Wyatt, Kaleb, Maeva, Maddie — no offense to the other desks, but editing your pieces after whatever catastrophe was in slot that day was the best part of my job. Thank you for always being critical and unserious as needed, and especially for being so understanding as I spiraled during application season. I couldn’t have asked for better writers to call my own.
Josh, I can’t express how proud I am of how far you’ve come, both in and out of the newsroom. Being your editor while you won those awards doesn’t compare to
having been able to see you pursue your dreams, navigate difficult relationships and help others — namely, myself — experience life outside the confines of work and studies. You’ve gone from a columnist to an editor; from my writer to one of my closest friends.
Kynlee, you’re the strongest person I know, but never forget that sometimes the strongest thing you can do is know when not to be. Thank you for all the beautiful flowers; as they’ve wilted and creased throughout the months, you’ve never ceased to remind me that wisdom doesn’t always have to come with age.
Mathias, you’re somehow the most thoughtful person I’ve ever met. You can play yourself off as art deco all you want, but your empathy will always give you away. Unlike what I can say of myself, I hope you never change — thanks for letting me get to know you, if only a little bit, for a little while.
Theresa, you are red roses and warmth.
Thank you for the sweetest compliments I’ve ever gotten and for watching movies with me, indulging me in my utterly incoherent thoughts on them for hours on end.
Julia, thank you for letting me see all the different, wonderful sides of you; whether you’re inside that bell jar or not, nothing can confine the bounds of your loving soul.
And thank you, Ian, for finding a way to include me and anyone else around you, regardless of time, topic or place. You have been unanimously elected to share our lore with the next set of editors and, naturally, to help them create their own.
I love you all dearly. I will have to let go and let go and let go a thousand times, but you guys have made it worth it. Someone once told me that we’re a mosaic of everyone we’ve ever met, and if that’s true, all of you are the best parts of me. I couldn’t possibly begin to distill the gratitude I feel into words, and any attempt at doing so would merely be a poor translation of the heart.
When I think of our newsroom, I think of the people in it, who came together over the semesters to create harmony: It lasted the length of a breath, beautiful despite — or because of — its transience.
In the same way, the memories I made here, along with those of everyone who came before me, and of those who will come after, must evanesce to make way for new beginnings and ineluctable goodbyes. So, I resign myself to and am grateful for this bittersweet ending; our moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain.


2026.


Business manager Hamsini Mahadevan graduates from Texas A&M with a bachelor’s in marketing on Thursday, May 6
By Hamsini Mahavedan Business Manager
It is difficult to explain what it means to leave a place that helped build you. That is what The Battalion has been to me.
For three years, this was where I grew the most. I started as an account executive and eventually grew into the role of business manager, but who I became there mattered more than any title. The business side of the paper was creative, fast-paced and always changing. I loved building relationships with clients, thinking of new ideas and learning to communicate with confidence. I learned to stay calm under pressure, carry responsibility, trust my judgment and adapt quickly when things changed.
I still remember opening the paper and seeing the first ad I sold printed on the page. It was tangible proof that persistence and conversations could become something real. Seeing my work in print felt surreal, and it marked the beginning of my future in advertising.
The Battalion has long been one of the places where students can speak honestly, challenge silence and question power. In moments of censorship, controversy and pressure to stay quiet, I was incredibly proud to stand behind an organization that cared about integrity and student voice. That gave my role a level of purpose I never expected from a student job, and it is one of the reasons this experience meant so much to me.
It also taught me that loving a university does not mean asking less of it. I care deeply about Texas A&M and the Core Values it teaches, which is exactly why I believe it should always strive to live up to them. I admired that the paper never shied away from difficult questions and was willing to pursue honesty. To care about a community so deeply that you want more from it is one of the truest ways to serve something you love.
That same sense of pride showed up in many ways throughout my time here, but one of the clearest was helping expand
BTHO into women’s basketball and volleyball. Across dozens of games, I learned how much planning, creativity and detail go into building moments people remember. Watching thousands of papers rise in an arena all at once is a feeling that is hard to describe. Those programs deserve that energy, and being able to help direct more attention and excitement toward them was one of the most meaningful things I got to be part of here.
The work challenged me, taught me and gave me a sense of purpose I will always be grateful for. Still, when I look back on these years, it is the people who made the experience unforgettable.
I’m especially thankful for Hayden, the person I worked alongside most. We faced challenges together, bounced ideas off each other, celebrated wins and navigated this chapter of college side by side. Having someone who understood the pressure, humor and unpredictability of the role meant a lot. He challenged me, supported me and taught me so much. I am incredibly grateful our paths crossed.
I’ll always be grateful for Spencer. He believed in me, trusted me and led with the calmness and kindness I hope to carry into my own leadership one day. He made work fun, brought energy to the office and helped shape not only my experience at The Battalion, but who I became as a person. What made this experience even richer was getting to share part of it with friends. My friends Pranay and Nikhil worked in different parts of the organization and getting to collaborate, create campaigns and grow alongside them made this chapter even more meaningful. There was something special about spending my college years doing work I cared about alongside people I cared about, too. I know how fortunate I was to experience that.
I’m proud to have mentored Spurthi and Nandika.Watching them grow into the role, find their confidence and make it their own has been incredibly rewarding. It reminded me how much others once invested in me and how meaningful it is to pass that forward.
It’s hard to put into words what it means to leave Texas A&M and the community that shaped me. I’ll miss the little things: familiar streets, Thursday mornings, getting jumpscared by the life-size Spencer cutout and the familiar smell of the MSC basement. Although I will miss The Battalion deeply, the values it taught me will stay with me long after I leave this place behind.


Life & arts editor Fallon Ferguson graduates from Texas A&M with a bachelor’s in international studies and a double minor in anthropology and Spanish on Thursday, May 7
By Fallon Ferguson Life & Arts Editor
My first year at Texas A&M was definitely not what I had dreamt my college experience would be. For as long as I can remember, I had always been promised that college would be the best years of your life — I certainly didn’t think so. I had no idea what I was doing; I felt lost, unable to decide what to do next or if I should stay where I was and do nothing at all.
The summer before my sophomore year of college, I decided to try to put myself out there again, but this time I would actually participate. I moved out of my old apartment and set my sights on getting involved with what was supposedly the best university in the United States.
When skimming through my weekly email from my Bush School of Government & Public Service advisor, I noticed a small string of text at the bottom: “Texas A&M’s student newspaper The Battalion is hiring.”
And after summing up some motivation and two writing samples, I applied to be a life & arts writer at The Battalion.
And I wish I knew back then what I know now: This is where you experience that college promise from long ago; these are going to be some of the best years of your life.
I showed up to my first desk meeting scared and excited; I truly had no idea what I was doing, but I knew I needed to try. When my lovely desk editors pitched a story idea, I was the first to raise my hand, and that is when my life & arts journey truly began.
After my first semester, where I wrote about anything from a pastor to Draggieland auditions, I knew I was hooked. I remember sitting at a meeting reading over and over the editor application message sent in Slack. I wasn’t sure if I should apply, or if I was even qualified. However, about a day later, Theresa and Ian sent me a message encouraging me to apply, and the rest is history. Well, not really.
At first being an editor was horrifying and difficult. I didn’t know anyone; I didn’t know what to talk about; I didn’t even know what an oxford comma was. I was dubbed by Ian as “one of the quiet people,” and for the first few months, I ran with that. However, after an interesting experience at a conference with some of my fellow editors, I broke out of my shell a little, and I came to some very important realizations. I realized that the people I work with are actually pretty cool, not to mention smart, kind, driven and hilarious; I realized that my favorite part of each day was heading into the office and seeing each of them do, or say, something stupid; I realized that these were the people I held the most dear throughout my time at A&M; I realized that looking back, this is where all of my college memories will stem from. These are the people I met during these three years that I love the most, and it’s a comforting thought to know that as I leave this place I will always remember them and the time spent in that scary backrooms-esque area of the MSC.
To the editors of the present, Matthew, Noah, Ava, Maeva, Josh, Julia, David, Zoe, Rocio and Steve: Thank you for a great final semester. I can not thank you enough for your support, companionship and The Office-like commentary. I could not think of a better group of people to be surrounded by as I say goodbye to The Battalion for good. I love you guys.
To Ian and Theresa: Thank you for giving me a chance. I owe all of my successes and friendship I’ve had here to you both. I love you guys.
To Kynlee and Mathias: Thank you for being the best leadership team The Battalion has ever seen. Thank you for your tenacity, kindness, flexibility and for putting up with all of these crazy things that have happened this semester. You both are incredible, not to mention some of the most hardworking people I know.
To Sophia: Thank you so much for being someone I can always count on. Your sense of determination inspires me, and, from the bottom of my heart, I am so proud of you and all of the ways you have grown this semester. I am absolutely certain that you are going to lead the desk well next semester. Thank you for a great semester together! And lastly, thank you to A&M for giving me The Battalion and providing me with so many opportunities to meet incredible people and do incredible things. This has definitely been the best, and most interesting, three years of my life. This is your Spring 2026 life & arts editor, signing off.
News editor Julia Kazda graduates from Texas A&M with a bachelor’s in English on Friday, May 8
By Julia Kazda News Editor
If you would have told me three years ago that I would excitingly step foot into a dingy basement during every free moment within my college experience, I actually probably would have believed you, but I would have thought it was because my immense trust in strangers had finally landed me in a cult. I would never have guessed it would be to laugh and occasionally work with some of the best people I have met in my 21 years. When I originally applied to The Battalion, I was freshly broken out of the chains of being a biology major, looking for any chance to reignite my passion for putting words on paper. As I am a two-percenter — sorry Noah Ruiz — I really knew nothing about the intense lineage of tradition that this newspaper carries. I was simply joining in the hopes that I could write a story and brag about it to my future children. I had no idea that I would enter the most joyous and formative years of my life.
In a world so polarized by every opinion under the sun, you would think that a newsroom full of people fighting to share their thoughts would be tense and cold, but these are the last words I would use to describe my favorite basement. Instead, The Battalion is a miniature utopia with a lesson to share to the world: We are all people, and we all want to be loved.
At the beginning, I was honestly scared to talk or be myself out of a fear that someone would disagree with me, and therefore hate me, which should not be synonymous. It was former news editor, J.M. Wise, who originally showed me that The Battalion does not run like the outside world. As I watched J.M. be her quirky, opinionated and colorful self at all times in the office, I also noticed that no one even contemplated judging her. Instead, they loved her. That’s what we do at The Battalion. We disagree, we laugh and we love each other.
It is at this point that I began to loosen up and truly get to know the souls of all around me and the lessons hidden within.
To Isa: Thank you for teaching me that philosophical conversations are the most fun ones. Your intelligence and kindness
brighten every room you enter. You truly make every person you talk to feel seen, and this is a superpower that I will never forget.
To Ian: Thank you for teaching me that journalism is actually pretty cool. Your passion for what you do is truly inspiring, and I know that you will tell the important stories wherever you go. Thank you for not letting me quit. Also, please never stop singing songs from “The Sound of Music” … Julie Andrews will notice you one day.
To David: Thank you for teaching me how to live creatively. You are one of the funniest people I have ever met and been lucky enough to call a coworker. I know you will do amazing things with the desk after I leave. Just please don’t let your rap career get in the way of your day ones.
To Theresa: Thank you for teaching me that there can be beauty in everything.Your lust for life is infectious, and I will try to carry that with me wherever I go.
To Zoe: Thank you for teaching me how to aura-max. I am serious.You are one of the coolest people I have ever met, and I will be looking to your outfits for inspiration forever — in a creepy way.
To Mathias: Thank you for teaching me the power of humility and truly listening. You are one of the funniest and most genuine people I have ever met, but what is truly noticeable is the care that you have for everyone in the office. People gravitate to you because of your warmth, and I aim to emulate that. Also, you’re a great Uno player.
To Kynlee: Thank you for everything. I can’t put into words how much you have impacted me. You are the best leader I have ever had the privilege of working for, and you are an even better friend. I am actually sobbing writing this, so I need to stop before my eyes swell shut, but I respect and love who you are and everything you stand for. I can only hope to be half as beautiful and amazing as you one day. I LOVE YOU MOMMY.
Finally, thank you to Noah, Matthew, Ava, Joshua, Maeva, Fallon, Sophia, Rocio and Steve for teaching me how to find joy in every small moment at Texas A&M.
As cringy as this may sound,The Battalion is so much more than a student newspaper, and that’s because of the amazing people within it. Throughout my years here, I have learned how to be myself, how to see and love others for who they are and how to understand and disagree at the same time. These are things that everyone needs to learn, especially now, and I happened to find this treasure trove of perspective within a dingy, disgusting and perfect basement.


