T

he night my first
Daily
article
ran,
I
found
myself sleepless, so I
popped on some sneakers
and went for a jog under
the midnight moon.
There isn’t anything
quite like the sensation
of running in Ann Arbor
after dark, I learned that
night. Sprinting north up
Washtenaw Avenue, all
five lanes will be devoid
of traffic while 20-foot-
high traffic lamps and the
glass-paneled biomedical
complex tower over you.
Crossing the Broadway
Bridge south into Ker-
rytown, you can see the
Medical
Center
shine
atop a hill in the distance,
and hear the black river
water
gurgle
beneath
your feet.
At 6 a.m. the morning
after, I giddily hopped
out of bed and finagled
a
newly-arrived
copy
of The Daily from the
Markley Residence Hall
newsstand while still in
my pajamas, and read my piece
below the fold of the front page.
Then I read it again, and then
again, absorbing my own words
from the raggedy newsprint
paper before me, searching for
some sense of attainment.
There was a magic in seeing
the event I had covered — a cam-
pus visit by an alum-turned-con-
gressman — translated to words
on a Google Doc, and then tran-
scribed to newsprint, printed
out 10,000 times and dispersed
around the city. Yet at the same
time, I somehow felt I hadn’t
yet done enough. There were so
many stories to be written, so
much more to be achieved.
This
sense
of
insecurity
has been pervasive during my
four years in Ann Arbor. It has
manifested itself as a constant

fear that I wouldn’t be “good
enough,”
and
an
overriding
obsession with external accom-
plishments — grades, internships
and the pettiest of distinctions.
Any opportunity to succeed was
also an opportunity to fail, and it
terrified me.
Arguably, this fear has helped
me. In a month, I’ll be extremely
fortunate to graduate and join
a firm I couldn’t have dreamed
of working for as a freshman.
I’m also grateful for having the
opportunity to pour my heart
into The Daily, and to leave with
a student newspaper career I can
be proud of. Yet, I also feel like
that freshman reading his first-
ever Daily article — I’ve accom-
plished what I wanted, but now
what? Four years later, I still feel
short of that final attainment

I tried to find in the Markley
lobby.
Over these same four years,
my late-night runs across town
allowed me a regular escape into
my own thoughts — away from
others and my anxieties. It’s dur-
ing these runs that I felt most at
home in Ann Arbor.
O

ne night each Decem-
ber, The Daily’s grad-
uating seniors finish
production early, then drive to
the industrial printer where we
source the printed newspapers
that plop in Ann Arbor’s morn-
ing newsstands. Over the years,
this tradition has become the
fabled culmination of each grad-
uating class’ years of labor.
I and four others merrily
clambered into one of the cars
making this midnight journey,

our destination a nondescript
industrial park outside of Flint.
A line of our vehicles snaked out
of the newsroom parking lot for
the hour-long drive, our cara-
van quickly broken up by traf-
fic lights and other cars as we
snaked north.
Driving late at night under a
clear sky, you can see a bright
white glow across the horizon
both in front and behind you,
light pollution emanating from
the northern Detroit suburbs
from one side and from Flint on
the other. Traveling through this
eerie zone, we passed a barn ele-
vated on a hillside, perfectly sil-
houetted black against the glow
from Flint and illuminated under
a full moon and starry night.
I was taken aback by the
simple beauty of the structure

and suggested we take a
photo.
The
friend
driving
offered to pull aside. But
by then, the barn was well
behind
us,
swallowed
behind
another
hill.
Turning around wasn’t
yet out of the question,
but that would just make
us late to our destination.
A

t the end of
every stage of
my
life,
I’ve
landed
roughly
where
I’ve wanted to land, but
also been swamped with
new goalposts deemed
necessary to reach an
ever-elusive sense of sat-
isfaction,
an
ultimate
attainment
of
adult-
hood. Admitted to your
dream school? Great, now
you need to get perfect
grades. Internship offer
from a great company?
Cool, work your heart out
so you can exit to an even
“better” job next summer.
Enjoying your work for
The Daily? Push for that
one last promotion.
It’s only now that I’ve real-
ized external validation alone
can never make one truly happy.
As fortunate as I’ve been, I’ve
cast aside the fleeting moments
that give life its magic in the pur-
suit of some grand future end-
game. And then I’m left craning
my neck around, trying to make
out the outlines of the barn that
has long since passed.
After this article goes to print
Tuesday night, I’ll slip on my
sneakers again and take advan-
tage of the early spring. I move
out of my apartment the day of
graduation, so there aren’t many
more of these runs in Ann Arbor
left for me.
It’s all quite a sight along my
jogging route, and you should
see it, too, before you leave Ann
Arbor.

Wednesday, March 27, 2019 // The Statement
2B

BY BRIAN KUANG, STATEMENT CONTRIBUTOR
One last ride

Managing Statement Editor

Andrea Pérez Balderrama

Deputy Editors

Matthew Harmon

Shannon Ors

Designers

Liz Bigham

Kate Glad

Copy Editors

Miriam Francisco

Madeline Turner

Photo Editor

Annie Klusendorf

Editor in Chief

Maya Goldman

Managing Editor

Finntan Storer
statement

THE MICHIGAN DAILY | MARCH 27, 2019

ILLUSTRATION BY LAUREN KUZEE