We stayed up late. We forgot our classes. We skipped the Street — on Thursdays, at least. We ditched our boyfriends and girlfriends too often. We didn't call our parents. We gossiped about who was hooking up. We read the paper twice before it went to press, again after it was sent to web, in the morning at our doorstep, again during lunch.
Suddenly, it is over. Three-and-half years after we first walked into 48 University Place, our final pages are printed. But only now, as we leave this paper in new hands, do we truly understand what the 'Prince' can be. As a new group of editors take over, we look back at what we did at the 'Prince' and what it did to us.
Our goals were simple: to chronicle the events of the University, and make a difference. We tried to do it in interesting ways, through stories with which you could engage. From time to time, we described the inner-workings of this university, and put pressure on the powerful — senior professors, administrators and other decision-makers — to justify their actions. We exposed a few controversies. We dug deeply into a few courageous students' lives and shared their stories with you. We cultivated a larger staff, produced a wider range of content in the Street section and developed probing articles in the sports and news sections.
Along the way, the 'Prince' became so much more than a newspaper. It became a place where we spent tens and tens of hours every week, speaking a different language of press nights, barrels, color broadsheet, shadows, hoodies, Princest, news-sports, 48, overlines, Larry, Brian and other terms that make little sense outside our world. The 'Prince' became our family, the source of friends, the only place in Princeton where you could get as thorough an education as the University can provide.
Like all schools, the 'Prince' leaves you with lessons — not only how to write, or take photographs, but also what it means to be part of a team, what it means to sacrifice your personal and academic life for something you feel is greater, what it means to be able to completely shape an experience and feel that the possibilities are endless.
At 10 o'clock last night, a crowd of staff members stood around a computer screen. We watched a slide show of images from our year, and the departing seniors said why the 'Prince' would forever define their Princeton experiences. There's something special about this place, something that makes us believe in the potential of the newspaper to make a difference.
But it takes a long time to realize the potential, that Princeton is here to change for the better, and that the newspaper can lead the way. We leave full of hope that members of this University, as writers and staffers for this paper, as letter writers and columnists, can change what they feel is wrong. And they should never give up in trying to fix it.
In the past year we hope we improved the paper; we're confident that the next year's group will improve it more. This is the last time you'll see a 'Prince' of this size and in black and white. Color is on its way next term, along with a brand new design. And while our job is done, the potential of this paper is far from realized. Next semester, for the first time in our Princeton careers, we will open the newspaper as excited readers.