On Sunday night, I attended my last ever Editorial Board meeting with The Cord. For the past two years, that’s what I’ve done on Sunday nights, much like the other people who work for The Cord.
But after Sunday’s meeting, I went home and got into bed and kept thinking about how my time as Editor-in-Chief was coming to a close. I asked myself if I was proud of my year, if I had accomplished everything I wanted to.
I made a ton of mistakes this year. I had spelling mistakes that made it to print (one on cover, too, ugh). I didn’t fundraise as much as I could have. I messed up colour plates one night an hour before our deadline. I received some “Dear Life’s” that told me I sucked and The Cord was failing (they were all published, don’t worry).
And while I could go on with every small mistake I made this year, I still feel like I’m the luckiest person in the whole world.
And most of all, I regret nothing.
This year, I learned so much about myself and what I could handle. I learned so much from the people around me. I learned so much about team work.
When I look at my team and where they all are now, every single small mistake seems so insignificant in comparison to how successful and talented we are as a unit. A small mistake that one person makes is irrelevant when I look at the accomplishments that we’ve made as a team. We’ve carried each other from the beginning until now. We love each other.
One of my staff members pointed out to me that if it hadn’t been for The Cord, he wondered if they would have all been friends, because in the classroom, they’re all different.
Some are shy, some are outgoing. Some are social butterflies, some are more reserved. Some are creative with visuals, some are creative with words.
But, once they’re out of the classroom and in the office making the paper every week, these differences are irrelevant. Because no matter how different they are from each other, they all have the same goal; they all love the same paper. The Cord literally developed a culture of its own based on this mishmash of misfits.
So when I think about what was accomplished in my year of Editor-in-Chief, yeah, I can say we put out a great product week after week. Yeah, I can say my staff pushed themselves to dig deeper, look more critically or challenge themselves.
But the parts I know I’ll remember most when I’m 50-years-old and telling my kids about my campus newspaper are the times we connected with each other. The times we confided in each other. The times we joked around with each other. Marco’s laugh. Will’s pranks. Manjot’s playlists. Brian’s “faaaaaam.” Kaitlyn’s wild stories. Rob’s sarcasm. Maddie’s encouragement. Paige’s immune system. If I had a higher word count, I’d go on.
I’m not saying goodbye to a newspaper. The Cord will always be here and it’ll be great. I’m saying goodbye to my family.
And I’m not going to lie, my heart really hurts.
