I came to Case Western Reserve University with minimal expectations. Starting college at the tail end of the pandemic, the only thing on my mind was being back in person and getting to socialize and learn from beyond a computer screen. While I had taken on many COVID-19 hobbies, like cooking and crafts, even the homebody in me was starting to get tired of being at home all the time. CWRU was an escape for me—a fresh start in a new school around new people and unfamiliar places where I could rediscover myself—as cliché as that sounds.
What I did not know was that it would not be school or Cleveland necessarily that would provide me that much needed room to grow. No, I would soon learn that a college newspaper, nestled in the basement of Thwing Center, would be the single most enriching experience of my college journey.
If you asked me my first year, I would never have considered myself a newspaper person. The elevator pitch I gave potential friends and mentors would not have included a stint on a school newspaper or even a distant interest in the field of journalism. Sure, I loved writing, but news coverage and print media—especially at a collegiate level—were never a part of my four-year plan.
You see, there were 63 people in my high school’s graduating class, and all of us were taught to focus on one thing—preparing for a career in healthcare. Classes in anatomy and physiology, nutrition and biomedical sciences left little room for creative exploration or dabbling in the arts. Most of the writing I did was solo: book reviews, blog posts, short stories and recipes scribbled on notecards and Google Docs. Year after year, words became a sanctuary for all the thoughts, ideas and passions that had nowhere else to go.
Coming to CWRU, I expected to follow the path that had been ingrained in me since highschool—join some volunteer clubs, academic groups and perhaps start a new hobby, time permitting. It was only at the Student Activities Fair, when I came across a barren blue table with “The Observer” printed across the tablecloth, that I thought writing for the newspaper could be worth a try.
A few weeks later I attended the interest meeting, dipping my toes in college journalism and getting my first look of the office I would later call a second home. I wish I could say I instantly fell in love with The Observer—the people, the culture and its mission—but, frankly, I left that meeting rather unimpressed.
But, two months later, a friend of mine encouraged me to join as a copy editor, boasting about the amazing people she had met and the free dinner every Wednesday. By this point, I had grown tired of Leutner Commons food, so I gave The Observer a second chance.
My first semester as a copy editor was a struggle. There were many days I talked to nobody while I edited and even more days that I returned home after midnight, tired and unable to wake up for my classes the next morning. But, I loved the work. In that first month, I learned so much about CWRU, its campus, administration, clubs and the communities and traditions that made this school so perfectly complex. And as I grew to enjoy the role, I gained a liking for the people too. By my second semester, I had found friendships in my tight-knit team of copy editors, tag-teaming 2000-word articles, investigating the AP Stylebook when we were too nervous to ask former Director of Print Sara Khorshidi for help and walking home together every night—enjoying quiet, comfortable conversation until we said goodbyes and goodnights.
And just as every great club will do to you, I got lured in deeper and deeper. I remember writing my very first piece for the Life section, a review of “Spider-Man: Homecoming.” I spent a good portion of winter break writing, rewriting, thinking and overthinking whether or not I wanted to publish. It wasn’t that my views were particularly controversial or my prose particularly poor, but the idea of having my words under the public eye, eternalized long after my time at CWRU, felt daunting. I took the plunge then, and I am so glad I did, because that piece was the first of many in entertainment, arts and campus life. And that fear of exposure was quickly replaced by a passion for having my voice heard.
Fast forward to my third year, I had just been elected executive editor, and all those days of hard work felt like they had prepared me well. I had several articles under my belt and two years of editing experience. I mean how hard could it really be?
In my first weeks as executive editor, I was naive. I felt invincible, having the power to take The Observer to new heights and leverage the support of my skilled team to make all my big ideas a reality. While that was all true, and there were many many opportunities to improve, the role of the executive editor is so much more than that of a changemaker.
These past four years have been tense for this campus and for colleges across the country. Between administrative, federal and political tensions, the role of the student newspaper to document, report and inform has become increasingly important. Dealing with these serious and deeply personal issues on campus, I started to see another side to my role: a protector. The Observer, like many college newspapers, is the subject of scrutiny. And dealing with that criticism, growing from critiques and finding ways to be and do better became an everyday mission. Protecting the integrity of the paper and the strength of our content was an uphill battle, where every small win seemed to be met with yet another challenge. But looking back, I am grateful for all of it. Because in these moments of uncertainty, stress and utter confusion, I learned what was most important: the people.
On its surface, The Observer is a newspaper meant to amplify student voices and inform audiences about current campus events. But behind the scenes, there is a team of talented, dedicated and skillful editors, graphic artists, writers, content creators, etc. who are just doing the things they love most.
Leadership for me quickly became a passion for my people, doing whatever I could to protect their work, support their passions and make The Observer a community they kept coming back to. Our biggest stories have taken a village to publish. And I could not express how much I appreciate all the people on my Editorial Board, in University Media Board and across the CWRU community who have made our content as loved as it is today.
Our Director of Print Elie Aoun is one of the brightest, most hardworking and caring people that I have met. From helping me crack down on our copy editors to listening to me rant about everyday problems, I don’t know if I would have enjoyed my time as executive editor if he were not there beside me. I will say, my initial impression of Elie was not all positive, but today, I am proud to call him my friend—or colleague if he so prefers. Another special mention for the third musketeer in our “3 a.m. Trio,” Director of Design Auden Koetters. In addition to being a wildly incredible designer, Auden is the kindest and most friendly person I know. Even when InDesign has crashed her entire layout or we have added two extra Fun pages at midnight, she pushes through with optimism and determination that I am hard-pressed to muster at times. I will miss our late nights of scrambled page finishes, spilled secrets and inside jokes, but I am certain these friendships are ones that will last far beyond the baby blue walls of this newsroom.
Outside of this group, I have formed special friendships with nearly every person on the Editorial Board. Sports Editor Darcy Chew never fails to amaze me with her 23-credit course load and her near perfect attendance at Undergraduate Student Government general assemblies, and News Editor Zachary Treseler who, even thousands of miles away, remains one of our most dedicated contributors—and biggest champion of our work. Darcy, Zachary, News Editor Vani Subramony, Life Editor Kate Gordon and Opinion Editor Hannah Johnson have been core members of our print team and dear friends of mine through the trials and tribulations of running The Observer. And still, this is such a small glimpse of all the wonderful and talented people that make up our paper—from our resident artist, Graphic Designer Lucas Yang, to Clay Preusch, the best photo editor ever.
Needless to say, my time on The Observer was more than I asked for, and everything that I needed. I think my friends and family would agree, but The Observer has changed me. I have learned leadership is not only about what I can bring but the space I can create for others to thrive as their best selves. Every production night has made me realize how important it is to surround yourself with good, hardworking people who will call you out when you are on the wrong path and stand by you when you need support to stay on the right one. And that camaraderie extends beyond just my peers. Time and again I have leaned on my advisors, Associate Director of Engagement JohnPatrick O’Hagan and Professor Bernard Jim, who have guided me in my toughest decisions and shown me the power of great mentorship.
I say this in many of my newsletter blurbs, but I truly believe The Observer is a family. We bicker with one another, argue at the conference table, constantly give advice that we may or may not want to take, but above all, we are always there for each other. Whether it’s reworking pieces, creating a last minute graphic or simply walking home together at the end of a long night, you know you will always have a person, or 10, by your side when you are with us.
As I silently hold back tears, all I can say is that I am eternally grateful—grateful for the series of events that led me to this point and all the people I have befriended along the way. It has truly been a privilege serving as your executive editor, and I cannot wait to continue to cheer for you all from the sidelines!