Okay, the title is clickbait. It actually kind of did the opposite.

When I joined The Observer as a writer my first year, I was looking for an extracurricular activity—something that complemented my interest in writing (the biology major wasn’t doing it for me) and got me more involved in campus life. I decided the opinion section of the newspaper would be the best fit, as it was pitched to me as: “You can just write whatever you want.” And, truly, that’s all I needed to hear.

Writing my first article was a solitary task, completed with the help of a latte, more sugar than espresso, a Wade Commons armchair and a dream. And it was fun! Who would have thought that researching and writing something you actually care about could be a peaceful reprieve from the monotony of required study? However, at the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder where everyone else who contributed to the paper was. What would it be like to do more than just write?

That’s when I met Rebecca Warber, a copy editor for The Observer, in one of my classes. Between discussions of Shakespeare, we exchanged updates on our story ideas and hyped up each other’s articles. It was Rebecca who ended up telling me what being on the Editorial Board was like, and, eventually, I found myself drawn to the prospect of joining. The following year, I applied.

Although I arrived at my copy editor interview with my usual brand of awkwardness, it turns out I was worried for no reason. Shivangi Nanda, the former executive editor, told me that she felt like she already knew me because she’d read my articles. At the time, and even still today, I remember thinking that was one of the best compliments I’d ever received—to feel represented by something I’d written when so often it was difficult to say what I was feeling out loud. She called Director of Print Elie Aoun out to talk to me before assuring me with a smile that I’d hear back soon.

I have to say that I had major imposter syndrome when I first started, missing small things—em-dashes, date format, the dreaded Oxford comma—none of it was clicking. However, with Elie’s guidance and multiple tagged Google Docs comments, I began to feel more capable. Things were looking up.

The experience made me realize how powerful student journalism can be. Every week, as basic human rights were being challenged daily, I read and edited an increasing number of articles on serious topics. From protests to policy changes, I learned the importance of uplifting our community’s voices and ensuring everyone is heard. A large part of these realizations is owed to Darcy Chew—fellow copy editor, then sports editor, now executive editor—and Helen Treseler, then news editor.

There are not enough words to describe how committed these two were (and still are) to The Observer. Helen provided an endless treasure trove of ideas for the paper and immediately made sure all the new arrivals felt welcome. She kept us laughing all production night and easily brightened the mood every week without fail. Darcy, one of the only other second-years, also immediately made me feel more at home on the board. She was empathetic, motivated and somehow had a way of making people excited to work. This past summer, Darcy put in so much effort to get the club off the ground again, recruiting people, restructuring teams and submitting for awards. After staying late into the night, I always knew I had Helen and Darcy to walk me home—and brainstorm ideas for next week’s issue while doing so.

When I eventually applied to be the opinion editor, convinced after a bonding event, I took the reins from Beau Bilinovich, who walked me through the steps and sent me all of his resources before I even formally landed the role. It is thanks to Beau’s patience and amazing model of what it takes to be a great opinion editor (even amidst his late editorials) that I feel I was able to do well in the role.

While this thousand-word essay may seem like overkill to anyone who hasn’t been part of their school’s newspaper, I have to say that it’s hard to explain how much it can consume your life. Wednesday may be casually referred to as “production night” to friends, but for those inside the club, it’s a weekly-run, well-oiled machine—and the work doesn’t stop once you leave the office. As a copy editor, you have to make sure all the information you publish is factual. As a section editor, you have to edit, reach out to writers, write an article every week and keep up to date on current events (which can be incredibly depressing). As a director, you have to guide a team of editors. I have learned so much about the world just from being in this club. There are so many people I probably would never have met if not for this club. And, you know what, it makes me a little sad that some people will graduate college without ever having an experience like this.

So I want to say thank you to all my fellow directors. I could not have asked for a more perfect team to spend roughly 15 hours a week with. Directors of Design Lucas Yang and Anjali Bhuthpur, I am constantly in awe of you both. I can always count on Lucas to think deeply about any question and give a really well-thought-out, hilarious response. He puts his 100% into everything he does, and never fails to surprise me. Anjali, I love singing and dancing around the UMB office with you when it starts to get into the delirious, wee hours of the night. You are one of the most high-energy, welcoming people I have ever met and you always get me out of my shell. Auden Koetters, our amazing Director of Digital Media, I am always impressed by how much you manage to fit into your schedule. Thank you for all the planning and coordinating you have done throughout the years. Your tireless commitment has kept us going strong. Tyler Vu, the man, the myth, the director of business operations, thank you for filling our production nights with crazy antics. In addition to your jokes, though, you always offer great advice and never hesitate to lend a helping hand. I’m grateful you were always willing to take the drink-spilling journey to retrieve our weekly rations. I also want to extend a special thanks to former fellow copy editor Sahar Kapasi, who, in my heart, is a director. It has been a joy to have your calm energy, silly comments, and interesting travel stories in the office.

Thank you all for trauma-bonding with me. We have been through some of each other’s highest highs and lowest lows together, and I have loved (nearly) every second of it.

Finally, I want to give a huge “thank you” to the amazing print team that we have had this past year. Shoutout to the section editors—the ones who have had to deal with complaints, miscommunication and unplanned article additions, Aleksandra, Alyssa, Penny, Ellie and Sabrina—and to the world’s most dedicated group of copy editors, Riya, Lily, Abhishek, Mariana, Siya, Wendy, Michelle and Kashvi. You all truly keep this paper running. This year, by far, has been the most fun and, in large part, that was due to you all. I have enjoyed talking about books, laughing about alternative Super Bowl performances and hiding from stuffed animals with you all. Thanks for making my last weeks at CWRU so much brighter.

I can’t wait to see what The Observer goes on to do, and I know I can rest assured with the knowledge that we’re leaving the paper in great hands. For now, though, I’m closing the laptop on this part of my life.

Until we meet again!

Hannah