Disclaimer: This letter, this one right here, has been particularly difficult to write. In fact, even amidst all the term papers and stupid class blog posts and application essays, I've never dreaded writing something more.
I set out, at the beginning of Thanksgiving Break, determined to compose the best last "From The Editor" to ever grace the pages of any publication — bold and poignant and touching and smart. But as break ended, and I crash–landed into my final week as Editor-in-Chief, my attempts to write even a sentence came up dry.
The truth is, I was never a writer. I came to the Daily Pennsylvanian fresh from my high school's newspaper as a designer; my language was InDesign, Illustrator, picas and typography. Words, sentences — hell, even spelling — were not at all my forte. But years and a slew of 350–word letters later, I find myself loving these little letters. They, however trivial and/or egotistical, are my weekly chance to escape the everyday grind, the nitty gritty of stress and responsibility and think about the bigger picture.
And, for me right now, the bigger picture is this: This magazine means the world to me. Street hasn't just been a "thing" I do in college — it's been my life. The office, small and hot and windowless as it is, is my "place." The staff is my "people." For three whole years, or 65 issues, as either Design Editor or Editor–in–Chief I've lived for the gruel of Wednesday night production nights, the thrill of stacks of freshly printed magazines on bright Thursday mornings, and the Street staff — more accurately the Street family — camaraderie that has filled my time at Penn from week to week. The walls of the magazine's office, covered in decades of letters and photographs and issue covers, have seen me grow from a doe–eyed freshman to a jaded senior, ready — finally — to leave.
It is with sadness, but simultaneously so much love and gratitude and nostalgia, that I say goodbye. I’ve enjoyed being a part of your life.
