There’s always one moment when you discover that something is important to you — that, no matter what you may tell yourself, your life won’t carry on quite the same way without it. When you finally realize it, that thing kicks off its shoes, takes a deep breath and settles down within you. If you ever want it to leave you alone, good luck: You may have to wrench and tussle and shove if you want to re-find the person you were before it came along.
I first realized the ‘Prince’ was important to me my sophomore year, after writing what seems fair to call a disastrous article about tailgates at Princeton. It received nearly 70 vicious comments; my inbox received several emails that were so offensive they brought me to tears. It would have been the perfect time to abandon the ‘Prince’; I was involved in a number of other activities, anyway, and after that experience, most sane people would have had their lifetime fill of hateful comments.
Instead, what I learned in that moment was that I wanted, more than ever, to be a journalist. But more, I wanted to be a part of the ‘Prince’ — where even if I was strongly disagreed with, I was capable of raising a discussion on campus. Of making people angry, and occasionally making them laugh. Of giving them something to think about — besides their looming problem set deadline — at breakfast on Thursdays.
I’ve since dropped most of my other commitments so I could focus on putting out Street every week. I started out spending a couple hours in the ‘Prince’ newsroom every Wednesday night my freshman fall, helping design each issue. Now, on top of many hours clumped on other days, I spend nine hours in the newsroom each Wednesday. It’s the most rewarding time of my week. If I can offer any advice to the underclassmen reading this, it would be to dedicate your time to the one or two activities that mean the most to you on campus. I promise you won’t regret it.
Since this is our last issue of the year, I want to use this opportunity to say goodbye. It’s been a true joy to bring you Street this year, and I thank all of our readers who’ve followed and commented along the way. Though words don’t seem to suffice, I also want to thank Trap and Emily, my amazing associate editors, for questioning my judgments, making me laugh to the point of tears every week and keeping me sane for the past 12 months.
Now, I begin my tug-of-war to leave Street behind. I’m not quite sure how I’ll navigate around the ‘Prince’-sized hole in my life — but bit by bit, I’m sure, it will shrink. And before long, it’ll be eclipsed by bigger goodbyes, and bigger adjustments. I’ll take it one Thursday at a time.