When I was young, I wanted to become a journalist because I wanted to be a good person. It’s such a naive goal in life, yet it’s been so fundamental to every decision I’ve made so far. And what better way to achieve that goal than by entering a field that serves the public by providing information? Over the years, I’ve been lucky enough to find that I also love the process of talking to people, playing with words and the rush of adrenaline when I finally submit an article. But at the end of the day, I stick with journalism because it’s my feeble attempt at making the world a better place with my work.
I always thought that it would be the work that would drive me to be better. What I didn’t realize, however, was how fundamentally my friends within the newsroom would teach me how to be a decent human being. Allyson Chiu and Matthew Choi taught me how to be a compassionate and motivational leader. Maddie Burakoff taught me how to look at the world with awe and report with empathy. Jake Holland taught me that my work ethics were far from rigorous when compared to his. Jonah Dylan taught me how to be calm and steadfast in even the most anxiety-inducing situations. And the list goes on (I could literally fill this entire page with my gratitude toward my peers). So to my colleagues, thank you. You all inspire me to be a better person.
And to the readers of The Daily Northwestern, I apologize for the mistakes I’ve made along the way. It shows that I still have a far way to go to become a “good person,” but please know that I will continue to learn and improve. Your criticism, too, has helped me grow as a human being, and I am thankful for the energy you put into helping make this institution a better place.
I thought I’d be sick of The Daily after the ungodly number of hours I’ve spent in the newsroom, but leaving is still bittersweet. I’ll miss the late nights filled with Hot Cheetos, soggy Norris pizza, Dum Dum wrappers and endless shenanigans. There’s no place quite like the newsroom, where the lines between coworkers, friends and foes are blurred, and I’ll be thinking about its energy for a long, long time.