About two weeks into being a student at Case Western Reserve University, I told my parents over the phone that I would write for the school newspaper. I’m sure the decisiveness in my voice confused them—I had never written for a newspaper before, I had never taken a writing class and I certainly would not have considered myself a strong writer back then. But the pandemic had been transformative for me (as it had been for many), and I discovered that there were a lot of thoughts I wanted to share with the world, from my experiences with campus events to musical critiques that I had been keeping to myself for so long.

My first article was one of my proudest accomplishments. I spent so much time working on a piece covering Period@CWRU’s second ever Period Fair for menstrual health awareness, and a couple of friends and I spent what felt like forever brainstorming a creative title (we finally settled on “Period Fair was a bloody good time”). Since then, I have written stories that have been more personal to me, but there was a special joy in seeing my first article ever on the front page.

I never expected my role in The Observer to undergo such a large shift, from writing about entertainment to filming it. But over winter break, I had gotten so many of those “What are you listening to?” videos on my TikTok For You page that I was curious if The Observer would do them. I pitched the idea to our executive editor, and soon enough, we were producing one ourselves and calling it “Tink Tunes.” 

During that first video, I was so nervous that my voice was shaking. I begged our photographer to approach people instead of me, and I never, ever made eye contact with the camera. Sometimes when I feel like being humbled or need a good cringe, I watch that first video. Over the next few weeks, though, the person filming (former Director of Digital Media Joce Ortiz) and I became very close and developed a rhythm. We filmed gratitude videos, spelling bees, trivia, outfit checks—pretty much anything we were in the mood for. We even moved onto larger projects like interviewing the owners of Mount Granita, a local Italian ice business, and interviewing the student performers at Springfest Committee’s Battle of the Bands. If you watch the videos in order, you can watch my confidence grow over time. I became more comfortable approaching strangers, and I genuinely started enjoying my time despite my distaste for being on camera.  

As I made more videos, I devoted less time to writing, but I still wrote about the topics that were important to me—whether it was the opening of the new Wade Park Community Engagement Center or the “die-in” staged by CWRU students and faculty during CWRU’s Open House/Admitted Students Day. But eventually, our video content also tapered out as we faced more restrictions with where we were permitted to film on campus. Instead, we transitioned to filming TikToks and Instagram Reels, which many of my friends know were already some of my favorite hobbies.

Despite the many changes, I will always be proud of our work. Around University Circle, both students and people unaffiliated with CWRU have recognized me from our videos, which I am so grateful for. An international student from Botswana once told me that he was not able to visit CWRU before attending, and seeing The Observer videos was the only way he was able to see what the campus culture was like. Some prospective students and their parents have told me they watched my videos before deciding to commit to CWRU. Hearing these stories makes me confident that there will always be a place for digital coverage in The Observer. 

There will be more changes in the future, and we would be ignorant to assume that the changes around the world will not be experienced on our campus. We will not be immune to change because our school is a private, R1 institution, because we keep our heads down or because we are STEM students. Audre Lorde once said, “My silences had not protected me. Your silence will not protect you.” Repression of media across the globe is only increasing, with 2024 being the year with the most journalists killed—two-thirds of them were in Gaza. Here in the United States, Rumeysa Ozturk, an international student at Tufts University, was detained by ICE in broad daylight—her only reported activism was co-authoring an op-ed for Tufts University’s student newspaper. As our world inevitably goes through further change, it is up to student journalists to refuse silence because silence is not protection. Throughout my time in The Observer, I have learned that the intention to silence comes from all directions, but a strong journalistic commitment to uncovering truth means that the coverage will continue, despite the repression. 

I have often struggled with goodbyes, so I am glad we use the word “farewell” as it better captures how I feel. I hope The Observer fares well in the uncertain years to come, and regardless of change, I hope I am still reading The Observer in my inbox every Friday afternoon, many years in the future.