Goodbye, the paper. It has certainly been a ride with you. I joined your funky little cohort of writers my first semester.It was you or The Ram and I am so thankful I dragged one of my new friends to McGinley 2nd that crisp Tuesday evening.
When I came to my first meeting for the paper, I was a freshman and clearly clueless. I saw the paper at the winter club fair and assumed it was the school paper, or essentially The Ram. I didn’t know there was a difference between the two publications or even that there were two publications!
I remember one moment specifically that I looked at myself in my dorm bathroom at 3 am and asked myself “Is this really it?” Well, no, it wasn’t, but I wouldn’t really know that until my next year, when I met a plucky group of nerds who every two weeks put together a newspaper.
I wish I could say I decided to write for the paper for something important; a higher purpose, a call to defend free speech and democracy, memes… But no, I joined the paper because I thought a guy in class was nice and he wouldn’t shut up about it, so I assumed they must be nice, too.
There’s a saying in the tech industry that if you’re not paying, you’re the product. The summer before my freshman year, my parents warned me that as a scholarship student, Fordham would likely see me as a petting zoo llama, a toy for the Bretts and Bryttneighs of our campus to see how the other half lives.
I came to the paper on accident. I think it was the second semester of my sophomore year, and the guy who had agreed to be my roommate was already an editor. For some reason he thought I should be involved, so he badgered me about it until I finally agreed to go to the print shop one production weekend.
Hey there. How is goin’, bein’ a senior and stuff? Is it weird? It is totally weird for us. We don’t really know where or how to start. Well, I guess we’ll miss you. Your ultimate creativity, generosity, humor, and intellect have made the paper what it is currently.
I’ve been thinking about how to start this article for years. I don’t mean that as hyperbole. The first time I read a deadit I was a freshmen and the editor for the News section. I’d spent months reading articles about depressing news all over the world and nothing hit my heart quite as hard as raw emotion poured into these articles. I was nervous that I would never be quite as devoted as the staff writing these articles. Then the months went by and I fell in love with the paper and eventually the day came where I had to give up being a co-editor chief (shout out to all my incredible co-editors through the years, but especially actual real-life talented journalist, Luis motherfucking Gomez), leaving the paper felt like tearing a piece out of my heart. I haven’t come back to the print shop since I turned the lights off on my last day. I don’t know if I could ever take another last time in that place.
Sometimes less is more for a title ok? It’s also a reference ok? Get out.…
How did I get started with the paper? The same way I did everything at Fordham: chaotically, and with little planning involved. Like many of you, I scrambled to sign up for and try every club I could as a freshman. I remember being enticed by the weird but welcoming energy of the paper, like some avant-garde collective pulled from the pages of a Jack Kerouac novel. My interest was always casual – I was far too inexperienced at Photoshop to help on any design issues, so I slowly worked my way in through Earwax reviews and the occasional op-ed.