I am sitting at my desk in the editor-in-chief’s office at The Pitt News, staring at a Google Doc, Taylor Swift blaring from the iMac speakers, listening to the editors and writers and photographers of TPN laughing and arguing just outside my open door. 

This is where, if you were looking, you would have found me on any given Monday, Tuesday or Thursday night since I took over as EIC for the 2024-2025 school year. Today is the last day I will ever do this, and despite the amount of times I’ve said “I can’t wait to be done,” I don’t know if I will ever quite be ready to say goodbye. 

I began my tenure at The Pitt News as a staff writer on the news desk during my spring semester first year, when masks were still mandatory and most things were virtual or hybrid-optional. I don’t think I came into the Pitt News office once that entire first semester, and if you’d asked me then, I probably would have said it was a fun extracurricular but not something I’d devote my life to. 

And then during my sophomore fall, I covered a live event for the first time — the vigil for Mahsa Amini. It was the first time I’d experienced real news writing with a same-night deadline, and I went into the office to transcribe my audio and write it up. I spent the night taking my headphones in and out to talk to all of the editors working on nightly production, trying my very hardest to make them laugh and get these intimidating, successful TPNers to like me. I’d never wanted so badly to belong somewhere as I did the Pitt News office after that first night. 

Since that fall, I’ve been a news editor, a culture writer, a culture editor and eventually editor-in-chief. I don’t like to guess about what-ifs and alternate timelines, but I feel comfortable saying that without my time in the office, without my time with editors and other writers and the people who make the paper and the stories run, I would not be where I am today. I certainly would not be sitting at the EIC desk and reminiscing on a year’s worth of groundbreaking work. 

This year I’ve had the opportunity to cover campaign events, travel to the presidential debate and somehow nab an exclusive interview with Scarlett Johansson — that was the one my mom is most impressed by, in case anyone was wondering. And yet, in the face of all these incredible opportunities, the moments I will remember for the rest of my life are the small ones in the office. 

I will remember watching and debating “Dancing with the Stars” with the skeleton crew on Tuesday nights while we waited for one singular story to come in. I will remember the nervous energy and solidarity in the room on election night as we watched the results roll in. I will remember ranting to other editors about my problems while stories piled up that I needed to edit. I will remember the kindness and empathy shown to me when I felt like I was at my breaking point. I will remember the jokes and whiteboard contests and comments made about the fact that I keep my office lights off because the fluorescence gives me a headache. 

Journalism is a notoriously cutthroat industry, and I’ve definitely experienced those moments — but I’ve never experienced them within The Pitt News. We aren’t all best friends, and most of us don’t see each other on weekends or even during the daylight hours, but when we come into the office, we share a common goal and a desire to work and create something great that surpasses all else. 

Journalism is, by nature, exhausting and grating, and oftentimes we question what sins we committed in a past life to get us to this point. That’s the nature of the career path we’ve chosen. But we don’t have to add to each other’s pain — as coworkers, we do not have to lead with spite and individuality. 

It is possible to publish groundbreaking work with the support of fellow writers and editors. I know this because I’ve seen it over the last three years. I’ve seen the ways that encouragement and kindness and honesty can take a good writer and make them a great writer without crushing their spirit along the way. 

In a moment in history where it feels like everything is becoming virtual and physical spaces are losing their meaning, the Pitt News office and the people that keep it loud remind me why I kept coming back to the William Pitt Union week after week.