As I attempt to write a goodbye editorial, so many memories come to the surface. I think about the sickening number of cups of coffee consumed, the hours spent in front of a computer screen, and the creative expletives thrown at InDesign. The times I felt proud for those flimsy twelve pages, and the moments when my failures pointed me in a better direction. I think about how much that tiny staff box on page 2 means to me. And mostly, I wonder where the hell the time went.
Like criticism, farewells are necessary. They remind us to be grateful, and highlight in bright colors the brilliance of what we have right in front of our faces. So despite my resistance, it is time to say goodbye, even if there’s no certain place to go.
These past few weeks I couldn’t help but empathize with Steve Carrell leaving “The Office.” I haven’t put in seven years for a single role, but four years is a long time, especially when measured in layout nights. It’s been an honor to produce the campus newspaper for Washington College, and I can’t imagine my college career without The Elm. I have loved every single, crazy second.
Maegan and Lindsay, the paper would not be where it is now without you two. You save my sanity every week, and I love you to death. No one knows how hard you two work, nor how gracefully you handle any curveballs. But I am preaching it to the world (or just Chestertown) for everyone to read. Chantel and Erica, where would I be without your sarcasm and support? A pile of nerves collapsed on the floor that’s what. My dear Liz, you light up the room when you arrive, and your Southern grace and poise I always look up to. Ryan, your dry humor is always the perfect antidote to stress, and I greatly enjoyed doing your dishes. Aubrey, you are the sweetest, most loyal employee. Katie, you’ve always made me laugh since freshman year, thank you for all your hard work. Bedrock, thank you for being hairy, and for being a wonderful editor two years in a row. And Natalie, you will do great next year as Editor. Keep your head on your shoulders, and you will go far.
I owe a thousand thanks to Shane Brill for helping with website design, photoshop difficulties, and for providing his infectious enthusiasm. Kay MacIntosh, Meredith Hadaway, and Diane Landskroener: you were there from the beginning assembling Pub House furniture on a muggy August afternoon, and were always available. The strides made in The Elm this year would not have happened without a great start, and I have College Relations to thank for that. Melissa McIntire, the Elm’s unsung hero, is such a pillar of strength and sass. You will always serve as a role model for me, a thank you does not suffice.
I’d like to thank you readers. I didn’t believe that one thousand copies would disappear that first Friday, but they did. Your readership and quiet support means the world to the little brown house on 213. And I’d like to thank anyone and everyone who gave criticism and pointed out my mistakes. You taught me how to fail, showed me what works and what flops miserably, and ultimately led to a high quality paper.
I do have advice for our readers: keep exploring the possibilities of yourself. This past year we transformed the paper because of the pursuit of a dream and we never once gave up in believing in ourselves (cue the cheesy inspirational music if you must, but it’s true). And we became a family as a result. Hell, we shaved our Sports Editor for money, you can’t get much closer than that. Now it’s on to the real world. I have to get a social life now, I suppose.
May 6, 2011
Volume LXXXI Issue 25