Farewell Column: A bunch of tiny, maybe coincidences

I don't really believe in coincidences. 

Is it a coincidence that after my first year on City & State Desk, when I was quite ready to quit journalism and change my major, my good friend, the endlessly talented Walker Livingston, became the summer City & State editor, convincing me without knowing it to stay in Chapel Hill and write for the summer staff?

Is it a coincidence that the position for assistant Opinion editor opened up last minute, and Eliza Benbow happened to suggest me for the role?

Is it a coincidence that my then-boss, Le Ha, couldn't work second semester, prompting me to become Opinion editor faster than I thought I (maybe) someday would? 

Is it a coincidence that I looked at our newsroom last year, compiled together a platform that I felt tackled our major issues and somehow became normal enough for 40 minutes to convince a selection committee to choose me for editor-in-chief?

I don't know, but here we are.

It just can't be a coincidence that the same year Courtney Mitchell decided to step down, I decided to run for EIC. And while I was completely mortified that I wouldn't know how to operate with a new executive director, I could not be more grateful and overjoyed that Will Lingo got stuck with me. I didn't know it then, but very quickly, a 58-year-old white man would become one of my most trusted confidants and my best friend. 

Maybe it's a coincidence that Sarah Monoson was the only person who applied to be my print managing editor. I also didn't know it then, but there is no one else who could be the Elphaba to my Glinda, the Burr to my Hamilton (IDK, I still haven't seen the play). Dear Sarah Monoson, this newsroom is truly nothing without you and neither am I. Thank you for answering all my questions, newsroom-related or the random hypothetical. 

My little three-person management team was a happy surprise, and it's funny and a little sad that I had been working with Emily Gessner for so long and never knew how hilarious she was until these last few months. It makes me sad (and happy?) that I'll never get to laugh at the lack of POCs in the office with Aisha Baiocchi ever again. I'll never again get to read one of hilarious Sydney Baker's just-as-hilarious poems written in my honor. I'll never again sing off-key with Emma Moon during print proof. I'll never get to listen to another one of Nadia Jefferson's truly insane stories about her weekends, though I'm sure she'll have them. I'll never get to greet Caroline Wills by saying, "Hey, Caroline Wills," again. I'll never again plot to steal Brigit Pierce's clothing and accessories. I'll never again complain to KG DeHart about how my boyfriend won't talk to me because of a (club) soccer game. 

And speaking of my City girls, who I know are reading this right now thinking, "Where the hell is my mention," I didn't forget. I just truly can't find the words. 

Lucy Marques, who is quite literally the most pleasant person in the world, has brought so much empathy to the City & State Desk and also my life. I don't have the word count in this farewell column to talk about how proud I am of her while also acknowledging how big of a role model she is for me. More than that, she is the greatest friend anyone could have.

Sophie Baglioni is one of the few people who isn't graduating and will have to deal with me and my nonsensical texts for at least another year. Thank you for getting me, and for being the very best friend — not just in the office but all of the time. 

The one thing I did know is that this job would be taxing. In my efforts to make things better for others, and hold true to the fact that it is my job alone to worry about the big picture, I often found myself quietly taking on enough stress to seriously concern my loved ones.

There were many nights of not sleeping, worrying about my decisions, being distressed that I had to make the tough call, wondering if people were happy working here, feeling lonely and ultimately being upset with myself thinking that I could do more. I know that for the good of any organization, you can't let that stress seep into the work environment. Even if nothing was going right, and the news was news-ing too much for me to keep up with, I swore I would always smile and keep things light and fun where I could. I truly hope I made good on my promises.

Another thing I don't really believe in — farewell columns. But again, here we are.

All year long I've thought about how to write this. What I would even say, and why should anyone care? Should I even try if I could never be as poetic as Ethan Horton, or as profound as the many people who have come before me and used their farewell columns to talk about the future of The DTH and our many problems?

I don't know, but here we are.

That's the thing about The DTH — you can't control it, you don't even notice it — you just do it. And then somehow, it's April, and you're faced with saying goodbye to an office full of your best friends.

And that, for me, may be the hardest part of being EIC. 

@DELCRAWL

@dthopinion | opinion@dailytarheel.com

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