This job is relentless.
Serving as the editor-in-chief this semester has demanded my time, my humility, my confidence and, occasionally, my sanity. But amid the chaos, I’ve become even more infatuated with this publication and what it stands for.
The Bulletin is a testament to the productivity possible when people from diverse backgrounds come together to work toward a common goal. This publication recognizes our differences as an asset and our passions as the purpose.
Our staff’s differences help us to find stories that we would otherwise never hear. The stories we’ve written about have challenged my predispositions, allowing me to think more broadly about divisive issues.
And that’s the magic of sitting down with strangers. Whether the conversation is about their pathway to immigration and to priesthood, or their late-night hot dog business, these moments have instilled an appreciation in me for the intrinsic value of personhood.
I’ve spent hours listening to the words of others, imagining myself in someone else’s shoes and it has made me a more understanding person — more of the person I hoped to become when choosing Gonzaga for the first time all those seasons ago.
I started this semester with a list a mile high of what I hoped to accomplish. Naturally, I didn’t cross them all off. I was never going to. But the ambition of the Bulletin staff this semester helped us climb higher and reach further than we ever have before. We’ve accomplished a lot with a little. We’ve produced a diverse and informative newspaper every week. We’ve begun developing an app. And most importantly, we’ve been good to one another.
There’s a novel of people responsible for the Bulletin’s success. They’ve created an experience so meaningful that if I think about it for too long, warm drops of gratitude begin to swell in the corners of my eyes.
It’s a bittersweet goodbye to my post as editor-in-chief at The Gonzaga Bulletin.
I’ll be helping copy edit next semester and picking up a few bylines, but it’ll most likely be done from my dining room table, where, like in the Bulletin office, coffee is nearby.
I’ll miss the long nights spent on the fourth floor of College Hall. I’ll miss donut Wednesdays. I’ll miss listening to our editors rehearsing their karaoke sets while allegedly getting their work done.
I’ll even miss the disturbing amounts of pizza we ate.
Our charming newsroom transformed over the years, from a crowded museum of editions past, into my home turf. In the midst of unexpected upheavals, the Bulletin has proven to be a safe haven. A place where I belong.
This place has provided me with a reliable group of friends, who are passionate about creating a more informed society. These editors, writers, photographers and contributors have also presented me with a unique community that is worth celebrating. We collaborate with one another, support one another and ruthlessly tease each other.
I’ll admit, I’m an easy target for the punchline. But so is Ian Davis-Leonard, my achieved and trusty managing editor. And I like the jokes that make fun of him the best.
Without a doubt, I’ll miss the hours I got to spend with these entertaining, brilliant and generous people the most.
This is where I pass the torch to an exciting staff full of seasoned veterans and fresh faces, while I join the ranks as a former editor-in-chief.
While I know this farewell is as syrupy as it gets, it’s deserved. That same something in the air that people say brings them to GU, circles the small newsroom on the east side of College Hall. A part of me will always live there.
Thank you for letting me listen to your stories.