‘If I don’t see you tomorrow, good afternoon, good evening and goodnight’

When I approached Gwen Break, editor of the Walton Sun, more than a year ago and asked if she would be interested in adding a different type of column to the commentary section of the Walton Sun – a type of column which precluded the usual commentary from balding, bespectacled middle aged men – I didn’t have a single clue about how long or how often I would write. If someone had said that I would still be writing a weekly column a year after I started, I would have laughed.
But, as a year has passed, and I’m off to the University of Florida to study political science, economics and communications in a few short months, I’ve decided to end the carnival ride this week. Technically I could end it “here,” but I have a host of people to thank just for getting me “here,” as well as a few last minute opinions to dish out.
First, I must thank my parents who, cliché as it may read, have spent 18 years in total as of last Friday molding me into the person I am today. My mother has woven the many threads of morality and ethics into my personal cloth just as my father has taught me the importance that education, culture, current events and politics play in the world today. Hopefully, this fusion of the gene pools has shown up in a few of my columns. 
Secondly, I am forever indebted to my teachers. Mrs. Presnell, my first-grade-reading teacher, certainly stands out in my mind as a perfect example of a teacher who made a large impact in my life. When I was diagnosed with a mid-level hearing loss and my parents told that I had lost too much valuable time picking up on critical sounds to ever read or write on grade level, Mrs. Presnell set time aside during her summer and invited me into her home for tutoring lessons. By the end of the summer, I not only read and wrote on grade level, but had been impregnated with a love for reading and the written word; a love for which I’m grateful to have courted ever since that fateful summer long ago.
I know many readers would not recognize the names of my teachers – unless they have a child in the Walton County School System – but I feel strongly that all teachers deserve more recognition. While our culture certainly attaches a sense of nobility to the occupation of teaching, our teachers are still some of the most unsung heroes of our time. If I could, I would take up an entire newspaper and stuff it with anecdotes about the differences all my teachers have made in my life, but alas, I cannot.
Of course, I am extremely grateful to my editor. She not only took a pretty big chance on me, but she has served as a brilliant mentor. Never afraid to compliment or criticize, and although probably unaware, she has taught me many valuable life lessons through our exchanges over this past year.
The many people who have written to me over this past year also deserve special thanks. I have enjoyed your compliments and have learned from your criticisms. I must extend a special thanks to the two writers who declared that my opinion and my generation’s opinion does not count yet, for both only vindicated my belief that each passing generation matures a little faster than the previous one.
Folks, I have been raised to praise the importance of listening rather than speaking, and for the past 17 years of my life I have listened. But last year, when a megaphone was thrust into my hand, I decided I had an obligation to shout into it a very pungent remark. It’s more of an idea, rather than a remark, and every column I have written has revolved around this idea.
So what exactly is this aria of Matthew Christ? Quite simply, it is the intersection of two quotes. One quote belongs to an American statesman, and another to a living Irish poet. The statesman is Adlai Stevenson, who in 1952 said, “It is often easier to fight for principles than to live up to them.” The poet is Brendan Kennelly, who wrote in his epic poem The Book of Judas, “If you want to serve the age, betray it.” 
I believe what will eventually define this age, my generation and my children’s generation, lies in the intersection between these two truisms.
And with that final lofty piece of young wisdom dispelled for you to chew on, thank you dear reader. I must now bid you adieu and a toodeloo.


Matthew Christ is a senior at South Walton High School and a resident of Santa Rosa Beach. You can contact him at matt.waltonsun@gmail.com. You can also hear the “Matt Christ Live Show” on 107.1 FM 30A Radio on Sundays, 11 a.m. to noon and online at 30aradio.org.