I don’t remember when I learned the greatest lesson about writing. It may have been in an intro to journalism class freshman year. It may have been inside the crumbling pink walls of my high school humanities class. I may have read it in a book or seen it on TV.

It doesn’t matter. All I remember is three words: Show, don’t tell.

Those three words turn an angry rant into an opinion column that matters. They turn a boring retelling into something that can change some small part of the world.

But those words aren’t just about writing. They’re words to live by.

In the last few months, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how to get a job after college. A degree in journalism and political science isn’t the same as the degree in biomedical engineering from a prestigious private school my best friend back in Ohio has. No company is going to throw $75,000 at me after graduation, hoping I can help them cure cancer. My degree doesn’t tell potential employers who I am and what I can do. All it says is that I went to class enough not to fail and that I can write a paper on tax policy well enough to get by.

No, that slip of paper I’ll get next month doesn’t say who I am. I have to show people who I am. I have to show them what I can do. That’s a beautiful thing.

Your college career should be about a lot more than what shows up on your academic transcript. What I’ve accomplished in these last four years isn’t just about grades and graduation, and that should never be the only thing to care about in college. Your time here is for building relationships, starting conversations and getting out of your comfort zone to meet people you never would have met if you stayed in the library studying.

More importantly, college is about doing great things while you have the chance. It’s perhaps the only part of your life when you have the time and energy to set an almost unreachable goal and push yourself to accomplish it. Regardless of if you’re a journalism student that wants to make a documentary, an engineering student who wants to build an airplane or a business student who wants to open a bar, don’t ever turn down a dream.

Don’t do it for the recognition, though. Do it for yourself. Nobody gets awards worth winning because they tried to win them. Sure, there are lots of awards and societies out there for people who just want to collect those lines on a resume, but doing work for something superficial will never be fulfilling. Do everything you do for yourself. Do it to help others. If you can get through life like that, you’ll get recognition that matters.

The Ramones changed the world of music, but they only won one Grammy for their work. It was a lifetime achievement award. I can’t even count the musicians who have won more but never made a listener think, “This is something different.”

The Ramones never had to tell the world how important they were with a Grammy acceptance speech. They showed them.

I’ve been lucky enough to work with amazing people in the last four years here at The Crimson White. I’ve worked with people who did work because they knew it was the right thing to do. Last year, our staff completely changed the attitude at this publication, and we did it by producing an extraordinary product every day. Even when they were done with their work and many were done with school, last year’s staff was the key in our coverage of the tornado last April. This year, we’ve battled countless daily struggles and what seemed like weekly crises to put out a product that builds on the enormous success of last year.

There are too many people who have shaped my time here to thank all of them, but I have to start with Kelsey Stein. I would have lost my mind long ago if it weren’t for her keeping me focused and calm. I’d like to thank the people who had enough faith in me to give me fantastic opportunities — Paul Thompson, Corey Craft, Alan Blinder, Amanda Peterson and Victor Luckerson. There are too many coworkers who’ve helped me through all this to name all of them, but this paper wouldn’t have happened in the last two years without the dedication of Taylor Holland, Stephen Dethrage, Will Tucker, Brandee Easter, Emily Johnson, Drew Hoover, Kyle Carey, John Davis and countless others.

You’ve taught me a lot, CW. We’ll show the world what we’ve learned. We don’t need to tell them.

Jonathan Reed was the managing editor of The Crimson White from 2010-2012.