May 8, 2020
Like many directionless first-years, I found myself in the Washington Square News office sort of by accident. A proud Third North resident at the time, I’d seen an A4 poster advertising the newspaper taped to a pillar in the residence hall’s entrance. I decided to take a break from awkward welcome week parties and lukewarm socializing to scope out what was going on in the basement. Three and a half years later, I have a lot to thank for a decision that I’ve retroactively deemed less random and more fateful. The moment I submitted my first (not-so-great) article, I was addicted — addicted to the feeling of chasing a story, of writing, of taking pictures, but most of all, of being in the newsroom. I spent years of college running around New York City for Washington Square News, squatting in coffee shops or the Bobst lobby to type up a story as quickly as possible. Every week I’d doze off in my Monday morning lectures having spent the majority of the night editing or debating article headlines. I survived on coffee and adrenaline for a year as editor-in-chief; somehow still producing work I’m proud of to this day. When I walked past a newsstand or saw someone reading the paper, I’d smile to myself — I did that. We did that. Being a part of WSN allowed me to try on an array of different hats. As a writer, an editor and eventually a manager, I came away from the experience knowing what I want to do with my life, which is a very rare and precious gift. Of course, it’s even deeper than that though. Washington Square News is a newspaper, but it’s also a community. It draws together driven, talented and curious people, who I had the privilege of spending an ungodly amount of both productive and not-so-productive time with during the past few years. Whatever I do, wherever I go, I’ll never forget the place and the people who taught me about journalism and teamwork and sleep deprivation.