I have always hated the maudlin process of saying goodbye. Knowing all too well the futility of attempting to say all that needs to be said, I usually never try. It has always seemed wiser to just turn and walk away, rather than expose the inadequacies of human expression trying to convey the indescribable.

What words can exist to illustrate my sense of privilege at having merited to lead this publication? What literary constructs can I create genuinely expressing what The Commentator and Yeshiva University have meant to me? How can I sum up an era in my life in a measly couple of column inches? I cannot, and folly would be the only word to describe such an attempt.

But I would like to comment, albeit briefly, on few matters. It has definitely been a long and strange trip, so much so, that I am absolutely sure Papa Jerry is up there smiling in the heavenly abode he shares with Reb Shlomo and the Baal Shem. Come to think of it, I think they all would have enjoyed hanging around this office on layout night just to watch the show unfold. I know I have, and the sweet memories of those crazy nights, coupled with the glorious colors of the innumerable sunrises I witnessed over the rooftops of Washington Heights, will remain with me until the end of my days. The sense of mission and responsibility, combined with the power to actualize a vision and act as a catalyst for change, has always been at the core of this institution and its staff. Being a part of this grand tradition has enriched my stay here in YU beyond measure, and I feel confident that the sixty-third volume of The Commentator has been able to uphold, expand upon, and strengthen the successful efforts of the generations that came before myself and my colleagues.

That said, I have the utmost confidence that the incoming editors and staff have been exposed to this hallowed tradition in full and will do a stellar job. Working with them, as well as with those staffers who are moving on to greener pastures, taught me more over the duration of this year then all the textbooks in the world. The only regret I have is an quixotic one - I only wish I could do it all over again knowing what I know now. Unfortunately, as is with life, love and Mexican food, there is no going back, no second chances. I can only try to impart the meager wisdom garnered in the process to those who follow my footsteps.

In life, as with working on The Commentator, you will learn all sort of things. Being editor of this paper has entailed accumulating vast knowledge and reams of information. Yet knowledge is a double-edged sword, and while there is much that I have found to be enlightening and edifying, I have become much more of an embittered cynic in the process. Individuals I had the highest respect for I can no longer stomach, having seen them for what they truly are. Digging beneath the surface does not always uncover gems; on the contrary, it often reveals the slimy underside of things best left in the dark. But to accumulate gems one must dig, and dig deep. Do not, however, become so mired in the muck that the priceless jewels you can collect no longer radiate any brilliance, for that would be tragic. Try to remember that even with all the dirt swishing around, this University is still fundamentally a wonderful place, and although the filth may reach Augean proportions, despair not.

The professors, rabbis, students and staff compose the heart of this institution, but the subtle flavors and spices of the school and the neighborhood are part and parcel of the totality. Do not let the petty bureaucratic infighting, the onerous requirements and drudgery, the "stable muck," obstruct the mad beauty of the Yeshiva University experience. Live it fully and embrace it completely. Inundate yourself with intellectualism and Torah; interact with every lunatic and two-bit crackpot you meet in the hallways or on the street (Lord knows we have our fair share); seek out disciplines that nourish your mind and soul; shop in bodegas for weird root vegetables; audit classes for no credit; take long walks in the park. Then you will have extracted some of the golden nuggets YU has to offer.

Administrators and faculty need to rise above the slime as well, as we enter a transition stage during which YU will undergo monumental changes defining the very fabric and character of the institution for the next era. The average age of a Board of Trustees member is seventy-one, while there exists an entire generation of faculty and administrators, including our president, may he live and be well, who are even older. A new academic vice president has just been appointed, a new honors college has just been created, and new classes, professors and subjects are cropping up as fast as we can make room for them. The student population is burgeoning while it changes demographically.

Old standards and entrenched bureaucratic customs are not going to cut it if YU wants to compete in the vaunted rankings upon which it puts so much misplaced focus. The YU family method of treating people like gutter trash because, hey, they figure everyone besides the students is here for life, is both disgusting from a standpoint of human decency and halakha and is causing us to lose top-flight talent across the board. From the top down, a changing of the guard is imminent. What will take its place?

Whatever issues arise, it is incumbent upon the entire YU community to ensure that they are not decided upon in the backrooms according to the old imbecilic and destructive system. They need to be debated, discussed publicly, and in order to arrive at an intelligent conclusion, input must be solicited from all segments of YU. What is required is clarity and vision - neither of which will be found if the substantive matters are buried under the slop.

Let's face it - sometime in the near future, it is entirely conceivable that President Lamm will want to leave office and enjoy a well deserved retirement or that circumstances beyond his control will force him to do so. Who will take over? Better yet, upon what model will his successor be chosen? President and Rosh HaYeshiva? Or do we split the two offices and create a new power structure? What happens when Dr. Socol vacates his chair? Is Dan Forman going to run the school? The relationship between Syms and the College, how is that going to look in the future? Are we going to broaden our enrollment to include Solomon Shechter and non-denominational kids, or are we turning our backs on them as well? What does the future hold for the Beis Medrash and its Rabbeim?

These are the issues I know the next volume of The Commentator will tackle (along with caf food, idiotic student bickering, administrative bungling and other personal issues. Hey, it's part of the job.). But if the only voice crying out is that of the Commie, it will sound all the more shrill reverberating in a vacuum. Don't allow that to happen.

I expressed in my first column as editor a sentiment I feel as strongly today as the day I wrote it. Being a YU student makes me the recipient of a legacy that spans three blocks of Washington Heights and three thousand years of history. I thank God that I have had the luck and privilege to continue on down the path delineated by my predecessors and guides, and in my own small way contribute to the collective wealth of this institution.