Nat’s pictures of Move-In Day are great, as they not only capture the spirit of the day, but also accurately present it as it truly was. The same, however, cannot be said for Mr. Friedman’s outrageous editorial surrounding an argument on the appellation of this most sacred day (Move-In Day).
Mr. Friedman is correct in that we did have an argument. He is also correct in that it was a “brief” argument and that it was a “violent” argument. However, Mr. Friedman neglects to mention that he, in his furious fit of rage, lunged at me, his arms outstretched as if to grab my throat and vehemently throttle it with all of his might.
Mr. Friedman’s “swift and terrible reasoning” was, in fact, an asphyxiating death choke and it was my panicked, instinctive will to survive that caused me to agree, albeit against all of my principles, that it was “moving day.” My agreement was coaxed from my being, unwillingly escaping from my then purple lips, a regretful but necessary exchange for my own life. The very “hyphen” that Mr. Friedman speaks of is symbolic of my dignity.