Meg Glover, Managing Editor

Sitting here writing my last words in an office I feel I’ve only just come to know, I can feel a sizeable knot forming in the pit of my stomach. 

Whether it’s nerves, pride, disbelief or an unsettled combination of the three, I’m not quite sure. What I am sure of is that hearing the giggles of our wonderful staff outside my door as I try to write this brings a tear to my eye.

Rewind back to a year ago, when I sat in Stauffer glaring at my laptop screen. Having reread my filled-out Journal application countless times over, I debated whether I should even bother to send it in. 

But then I arrived at the house for my interview. Crumbling bricks held together by tired cement and in dire need of a paint job, it held a charm that I knew I needed to be a part of long before I got that phone call from Joe. 

Fast-forwarding to this year, it’s impossible to look back on my time in this house without thinking of the 25 people that filled it with laughter. Each of you are so uniquely impassioned and yet combine to make the most dynamic team I’ve ever known. Even after our last press day together is behind us, I’ll always feel honoured that I was able to be a part of it. Seeing the amount of respect, support and love you have for one another only makes me wish we had more days. 

I leave solely with the regret that I didn’t find my way to the steps of 190 University sooner.

To my parents, sisters and friends — If I could give you back the hours you patiently listened as I ranted endlessly about things you didn’t understand, I would. Since I can’t, I can only assure you that those Facetime calls, afternoon strolls and coffee runs meant the world to me. You’ve supported me unconditionally this year and beyond, and for that I’m forever indebted to each of you. 

To Dave — I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again — you are always there for me no matter what and I can’t explain what that means to me. I’ve never had someone believe in me so strongly and if it weren’t for you, I’m not sure I would’ve had the confidence to send in that application. You’re truly the force that saved my sanity this year and for that and a thousand other reasons, I love you!

To Joe — I think it’s safe to say that I’ll never again have a partner as kind-hearted, patient or supportive as you’ve been. Inevitably having tweaks to work out in the beginning, we truly found our stride over this year. That’s how it always happens, right? Just as you’re starting to get comfortable, you’re suddenly in your office, forced to write your last words knowing that you’ll soon be without a friend right across the hall. You believed in what I was capable of before I could even bring myself to do the same, and for that I’ll always be so grateful to you. 

Even if you thought you were screwing up at times, you never failed to be the leader you promised everyone you’d be and I think that’s what made you so easy to look up to. 

And to Nick and Seb — I’m afraid I couldn’t choose a single adjective to describe the year you have ahead of you. There will be days you dream of spilling coffee on the computers just to catch up on some sleep. There will be others when you feel like escaping behind the locked door of your office. And then there will come the day you’re writing your last words and you’re thankful for each time you made sure not to do either of those things, and instead remembered how lucky you were to be trusted with such a great responsibility. 

This job comes with a balance of bitter frustration and unprecedented pride. Pride in yourself, each time you’ve made it through the week to look back on what you’ve made possible. And pride in those around you who, if your year is anything like ours, will be some of the most talented, hard-working, genuine people you’ll ever come to know.

My only advice would be to believe in yourselves — it sounds like an empty cliché, but it’s something I needed to be reminded of more often than I’d care to admit and it meant everything. When you’re sitting at my or Joe’s desk, perhaps crouched on a swivel chair with slippers and your third consecutive coffee, remember you were chosen because people believed in you. You owe it to them to do the same for yourself.

Walking into the house last spring, I was a guest. Walking out of it now, I feel as though I’m stepping away from family — a quirky, coffee-crazed, Jai-obsessed yet somehow functional family.

All in all, my time at The Journal is something I’ll look back on and always be grateful for —  the friends I gained will infinitely outweigh the sleep I lost.

Meg is ready to … who said Meg was ready?

Joseph Cattana, Editor-in-Chief

These 800 words are what I’ve dreaded most about my job. That’s because when I’m done with them, I know it will be time for me to say goodbye to the place I will always call home. 

No matter what, I’ve always had a difficult time describing what The Journal is or how important it has become to me. Now that it’s my time to go, I find myself at a loss for words.

I didn’t know it when I joined The Journal three years ago as an Assistant Sports Editor — and haven’t fully realized it now — but you can’t define this student paper with one word, sentence or phrase. Even though the staff overturns every year, the rush of ideas, stories and the drive of the student journalists inside this rundown house remains unwavering in strength.  

If you think about it, The Journal is a crazy concept. Completely student-run, a betting person would have thought this would have imploded a long time ago. But over the course of a school year and 28 print issues, these under-paid and over-caffeinated students come together to create something truly remarkable. 

To the staff of Volume 145, I don’t think I can underscore enough how indebted to you I am. Not only have you all grown as writers, but more importantly to me, you’ve grown as people. You chased down stories that enacted change, asked the right questions and, begrudgingly, listened to Jai in the early hours of the morning. Although Meg and I guide the ship, you’re the heart of The Journal which beats in unison to create the paper every week.

Thank you for letting me be your Editor in Chief. Thank you for becoming the massive family you are today. Thank you for outdoing yourselves with every passing issue. I hope I inspired you just as much as the 25 of you inspired me every single day. 

Before I had the confidence in myself to chase this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, there was a group of people who had faith in me.

Sebastian and Anisa. Thank you for answering all my questions this year. Three years ago, you two took a risk on a 20-year-old who had never written for the paper. I hope I wrote a few good stories along the way and have made you both proud. 

Jacob and Jane. Thanks for believing in me and pushing me to make this place better. 

To my friends, housemates and family: thank you for supporting me when I had this crazy idea of coming back to run a student paper. Thank you for listening to my problems and most of all, talking about anything but The Journal. 

Bianca. You’ve read every story I’ve written at The Journal and you’ve always believed in me, even when I probably thought otherwise. You’re the glue that held me together this year. I love you. 

Meg! I could probably spend this whole article telling you how important you are to this paper and to me. I know some days I probably drove you crazy, but I just wanted to take the time to thank you for everything this year. 

It might be cheesy, but I knew from the moment I met you that I wanted to work with you. You’re smart, caring, talented beyond your imagination and to me, the reason why we’ve been so successful this year. It’s sad to know that I won’t be able to come into your office across the hall and gossip anymore, but I know I’ve gained a lifelong friend. Thank you for being everything I thought you would be as a Managing Editor and so much more. 

Nick and Seb. Get ready for the time of your life. Some days you will feel like you’re on top of the world and if you’re anything like me, there will be a lot that will make you question everything you’ve done. Remember you were elected for a reason. Be the editors I know you are both capable of becoming and everything else will fall into place. Whenever you are down on yourself, remember 145 years of editors before you have made it out the other side alive. 

Time is a funny concept. While you’re in the moment and everything is great, things feel like they will never end. But now that it’s my time to go, I can’t help but try to soak up every moment I can. 

As I walk through the house when no one is around, I can see the past three years of my life unfold at The Journal. The laughs, late nights, group dinners, friendships I’ve made and everything in between have come to define me not only as a writer, but as a leader and a friend. 

If you couldn’t already tell, leaving this place sucks. I’ve had the time of my life working here. The Journal has been home to me for the last three years and I wouldn’t change how a single moment or story has played out. It might be my time to go, but this house and these people will always hold a special place in my heart. 

Journal Joe is ready for the rush to end.