From the editors’ desk: Farewell
For the last four years, we have spent every Monday night upstairs in the Rice Memorial Center, neglecting schoolwork, social events, friends (as our suitemates can attest) and even our own birthdays to produce the weekly newspaper that shows up in your college’s commons every Wednesday.
Don’t let us make it sound like some kind of big sacrifice for the good of the university or any other holier-than-thou bullshit. We did this for one extremely selfish reason: because we loved it.
But, just like how we imagine parents feel about their children, loving it didn’t mean we always liked it. Being part of the Rice Thresher has placed us in difficult situations, sometimes where there’s no clear right answer. It’s required us to investigate issues people did not want brought to light, which inevitably led to friction between us and those we covered. It sucks sometimes when people at your college or in your classes think you’re out to get them, and it’s not easy to wake up to a storm of angry Facebook comments on a Wednesday morning.
Nevertheless, we continued to ask the difficult questions and delve into issues people preferred to hide. Because in the immortal words of former Thresher Editor-in-Chief Yasna Haghdoost, journalism isn’t about being nice. It’s not a popularity contest, nor should it be. We strive for the trust of our readers and the respect of those we cover, but we can’t afford to compromise our coverage by caring if you like us or not.
The world is full of gray areas, and the Thresher has taught us to how to analyze, question and come to decisions in the midst of complexity and in the face of pressure from authority figures. It’s a lesson that’s hard to learn inside the classroom, where the biggest consequence is usually a less than ideal grade that only affects our own GPA.
We joined the Thresher because we liked writing and, in Andrew’s case, sports. We stayed because no other experience has pushed us to the level of growth we’ve experienced over the last four years. Leaving is bittersweet, and we joke about failing a class to stick around another year, if only tuition didn’t keep increasing. We take with us a greater ability to question the world around us and our own role in it and we urge anyone reading this who has ever considered joining the Thresher to do it. It’s been the experience of a lifetime, and we promise you won’t regret it.
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