Each year, graduating editors are given 30 final column inches — “30” was historically used to signify the end of a story — to reflect on their time at The Hatchet, published in the final issues of the year.
I have a tendency to overthink.
That statement will come as no surprise to my family, friends or anyone who’s worked with me on The Hatchet over the past four years. It will also come as no surprise that I have been overthinking this particular piece to no end for the last week — writing, deleting and rewriting every word you see before you.
Trying to summarize my experience on The Hatchet in a polished article with an original angle is a difficult task. I fear all of the people who came before me have already written the most astute and compelling sentiments one could share about this newspaper.
In my attempt to come close to the observations that precede me, I’ve been wandering around campus lost in thought, waiting with bated breath for inspiration, or divine intervention, to strike.
Ironically, my days spent pondering this last article gave me a new appreciation for how The Hatchet has always pushed me to be thoughtful. I still get frustrated by my propensity for overthinking, but I am ultimately thankful that chugging away at this newspaper has made me think critically about our university and highlight what makes our campus community, and D.C. more broadly, worthy of celebration.
From the moment I walked into the townhouse as a first-year, while sheets of August rain cut through the District’s sky, I knew I had found the place and the people I wanted to bet on. All of the editors appeared like they were all in on some big, shared secret. As I moved up on staff, I quickly learned that my suspicion was accurate. Placing yourself in The Hatchet’s orbit wires your brain to synthesize complex topics, dig through archives and tell people’s stories with compassion.
Thoughtless people don’t do well on The Hatchet. Luckily, those are not the kind of people who tend to stick around. Good journalism takes grit, heart and lots of thinking. The people I have been lucky enough to work with over the years have these qualities in spades.
After four years, there are few nooks and crannies on this campus that don’t make me think about The Hatchet and the people who have kept me coming back every year. When I stroll underneath the bridges that connect Rome and Phillips halls, I think about every professor who was generous enough to share their perspective with a sophomore who didn’t always understand what she was asking them about. As I soak up the sun and saunter through Kogan Plaza now, I reflect on stressful, yet rewarding, days spent pestering my peers for interviews. When I walk by JBKO Hall, I’m transported back to nights spent ranting and giggling over glasses of wine with newfound friends.
Here’s to the legions of thoughtful people who have graced this newspaper over the years. You make me want to think harder and do better.
Former Staff:
Isha: You’re the reason so many current seniors decided to hitch their wagon to this newspaper as wide-eyed first-years. Thank you for bringing us reporters into the fold, guiding us through the basics of reporting, writing and editing with care and consideration. Your command over the murky waters of GW’s administrative and financial polices was a sight to behold. To this day, your name is still dropped in the townhouse as the role model that all editors should aspire to emulate. Beyond your impeccable run as an editor, you also uplifted The Hatchet’s social scene with your penchant for whimsy and shenanigans. I know I’m not the only who misses hearing about your vision for the weather section and doing a quaff with you at parties.
Jarrod: I’ll never forget this one freezing day during Volume 119 when the heat in the townhouse was not working. While everyone else hunkered down in the basement with space heaters or worked from home, you stayed behind the EIC desk and hammered away in the cold. You said something along the lines of, “I work better under uncomfortable conditions.” That was a crazy thing to say, but your choice demonstrated how scrupulous and tireless of an editor you are. Watching you polish stories until they shined was a master class in itself.
Nick Pasion: I miss seeing you jump up from your chair in the newsroom and run into the EIC office to rant about something. The drive and enthusiasm you have for journalism is contagious, and I credit you for getting me psyched to apply to be an editor. As SNE, thank you for always pushing me and the other news editors to invest time and care in our reporting (academics is, after all, a labor beat). But more than that, thank you for making me feel seen and appreciated beyond the realm of Google Docs. You met everyone with unflinching sincerity, making genuine efforts to get to know us as people first, members of The Hatchet second. Your compassion is what makes you a great journalist — and someone I’ll always look up to.
Zach: There are a lot of people who care deeply about The Hatchet. But if there was a contest, you might take home the gold. Whether it was your breathless energy as SNE or unexpectedly stepping up to the EIC desk, you set an example for how to show up for this newspaper and the people on its staff.
Erika: I know you’re probably tired of people saying this to you, but you truly have that dog in you. The dog inside you is bigger and tougher than any other dog I know. You established yourself as the most reliable reporter from the moment you stepped foot in the townhouse. Watching you work over the years has been a privilege, but I am much more grateful to know the person that surrounds the big, tough dog. You are a dependable and supportive friend, and I’m thankful we’ve gotten past our mutual fear that we hated each other. I can’t wait to watch you continue to chart your post-grad path. Here’s to many more catch-ups and movie nights.
Eóighan: You know that clip of Andrew Garfield describing Emma Stone as a shot of espresso? His words come to mind when I reflect on you joining the news team in sophomore year. You waltzed in, made us laugh a million times over and showed everyone how fun being on The Hatchet can, and should, be. From Ashburn, Virginia, to raucous parties, your presence colors countless of my fondest Hatchet memories. Beyond your unparalleled ability to light up a room and bring people together, you are also one of the smartest and hardest-working people I have met in college. I’ll never forget how clean your drafts were as a reporter — they made me green with envy and filled me with hope that you’d eventually join our circus. I am so thankful I had the privilege to work alongside you, and I can’t wait to see all you accomplish in the future — just please let it be in the U. S. of A. Kisses, love ya, mean it.
Sophia: Becoming neighbors this year was a wonderful surprise. You always brought such a calm, cool and collected spirit to the news team, and I know I’m not the only one who misses seeing you perched on one of the rolling chairs in the corner of the newsroom. You are a first-rate reporter and photographer, and I know we all learned so much watching you hold down the fort on health and research. Wishing you all the best post-grad and beyond.
Jenna Baer: Although our paths only crossed for a semester, I look back on our day spent scavenger hunting fondly. Your determination while working on that story was indicative of the intrepid spirit you brought to the culture section throughout your tenure. You infused stories with so much fun and humor, and I still read your bylines in awe at how sharp your writing is. Thank you for setting such a rock-solid foundation for the section. Looking to your work for inspiration this year made my job a whole lot easier.
Current Staff:
Nikki: I’m so thankful I said hi to you as we filed out of Funger Hall with the hoards of new Hatchet reporters on that sunny day in September. I was even more shy as a first-year than I am now, but I remember getting a gut feeling that I had to start a conversation with you. That gut feeling proved to be right because we haven’t really stopped talking since. Anyone who is lucky enough to be your friend knows how you go out of your way to make people feel seen, appreciated and loved. But please don’t forget how loved you are by the people around you in return. Your boundless supply of kindness, empathy and courage is unparalleled, and you set an example for how to lead a life with intention and care. These qualities have always shined through your work on The Hatchet, from the thoughtful way you approached stories as a student life editor to the invaluable support you’ve provided as community relations director. There’s also no one I would have rather slept a few feet apart from for two years, chatting and giggling into the night over nonsensical jokes that were only funny to us. After almost four years of table-shaking conversations, sing-alongs and buckets of laughs, it goes without saying that our friendship is so much more than this newspaper. But joining The Hatchet brought me to you, and I’ll forever be thankful for that.
Lindsay: A true friend and confidant. You never fail to lavish me and all of your other friends with undivided attention, care and support. There’s really no one I would rather yap with for hours on end, venture through the American studies department alongside and scheme with to win arguments during editorial board meetings (Even though Perkins bested us most of the time). I still feel bad that I pushed you to join copy, setting you up for years of sleepless Sundays. But I am so thankful you stuck around. Your attention to detail has made you a formidable copy editor, and I have loved seeing you make your star turn as a culture writer. As much as you might roll your eyes at this idea, you have the makings of a great journalist. Your limitless curiosity and thirst for knowledge is truly a marvel. No one else I know could become a resident expert on the DC Public Library system in less than a year. I can’t wait for the day your librarian dreams come true, molding minds and fighting fascism book by book. I’ll be first in line that day to cheer you on with a library card in hand.
Nick Aguirre Zafiro: My luddite brother, thank you for all of the pondering and goofing over the years. Your brain is truly like no other. I can always count on you to dispense some sage wisdom and utter strange noises that a human being shouldn’t be able to make. Within The Hatchet’s realm, you have led the video section to great heights over the past two volumes and uplifted all of the multimedia sections along the way. You are a loyal friend, a thoughtful leader and an advocate anyone would be lucky to have in their corner. Please just don’t forget to take time for some well-deserved rest.
Nick Perkins: While I was so excited to join culture this volume, I was also very scared. You are a steadfast and confident writer, and I was not sure I could keep up. But you welcomed me into the weird and wonderful world of culture and helped me become a stronger writer along the way. You’ve given so much to this paper over the past two volumes, and I have no doubt your byline will always stand out from the crowd — even as it collects dust in the archives. Take this message as my plea for you to stay in journalism post-grad. But really, thank you most of all for being my friend. I’m really going to miss hearing you yap about your niche knowledge of William Henry Harrison and Ronald Reagan, whatever film you last watched and your general musings about life. It’s truly been a delightful experience.
Grace: Watching you carve your path from metro to SNE to EIC has been a joy. You approach every aspect of the paper with care and focus, scrutinizing every last detail from the words on the page to the layout of the print. You have steered this aging, clunky ship through some pretty turbulent times. But this newspaper is stronger and more ready to rise to the occasion after a year of your leadership. Thank you, in particular, for investing so much love and energy in culture this volume. Nick and I really couldn’t have asked for a better editor, advocate and co-conspirator. I’m also just gonna miss laughing with you through every budgeting and editorial board meeting. Hearing the zingers and astute observations that float out of your brain is one of my favorite parts of hanging out in the townhouse. Please, keep ’em coming my way even after we blow this popsicle stand.
Ianne: After almost four years, I still don’t understand how you did it. Dancing for First Ladies, covering undoubtedly the hardest beat on the news team for two volumes and ultimately editing every section of this newspaper. That could not have been easy, but you always made it look like it was. You are a shrewd and dedicated journalist who I, and countless other people on staff, have learned so much from. Beyond your editorial prowess, you are also a delight to be around. From designing some sick merchandise that never saw the light of day to filling the workflow with emojis, you always know how to sprinkle in some fun when we need it. Let’s bake a pumpkin roll sometime soon.
Faith: Any time you edit a story, I know you will leave it so much better than you found it. You have an innate ability to sharpen ledes, move around grafs and rework an angle until a story sings. From your days uplifting students’ stories in Volume 119 to your musings on the best George Washington statue on campus, you’ve always been such a thoughtful writer and person. Thank you for guiding everyone on this paper with steady grit and care. You’ve left all of us better than you found us.
Diana and Carly: Editing your work this year has been a privilege. You both approach stories with so much care, and watching you guys grow into enthusiastic, rising editors has been a joy. Thank you for charging into next volume with boundless energy and for always boosting basement morale (the editorial.all renaissance relies on you two). I can’t wait to see where you take the culture section over the next year. Remember to make the section your own, lean on each other for support and soak up every ounce of fun you can. Trust, I’ll be reading and cheering you on every step of the way.
Fiona: I have the utmost faith in your ability to lead the paper next year. From the moment you joined the news team, you have exhibited such a calm and steady resolve while covering this chaotic and confounding institution. You are also such a gifted writer (I’m bummed that you only just made your culture debut last edition, but at least it was an absolute banger). I can’t wait to see the stellar work you shepherd next volume — just please don’t forget to lean on the people around you and make room for some fun. You deserve it. #academicsforever
Rachel: Thinking about your trajectory on The Hatchet makes me misty-eyed. Thank you for being the most reliable, and my absolute favorite, academics reporter. The dedication and care you bring to reporting was clear from the beginning (I’m still sorry that the virtual reality story took weeks to get published), and I know you’ll help the culture section thrive as managing editor next volume. Above all, you are one of my favorite people to see in the townhouse every Sunday. I’m gonna miss hearing your life updates, yapping about music and laughing at your consistent supply of crazy one-liners. #academicsforever
Anusha, Mollie, Livi and Abby: One of the greatest joys of editing the culture section this year was getting a front-row seat to watch you guys cook up designs every week. Making the print edition look so beautiful is no easy feat, but you all manage it with such finesse and creativity. Thank you for helping bring the culture guides to life and for filling the basement with so much fun and laughter.
Jordan: Your eye for photography is truly unmatched. You also supplied some great culture pitches, which landed among my favorite stories that we turned out this past volume. Thank you for breathing a dynamic visual life into the section.
Andi: Wrangling a room full of loud and opinionated journalists who tend to go on tangents is a formidable task. But you have managed to herd the editorial board, and a roster of opinion writers, every week with a smile on your face. You are genuinely one of the sweetest people I’ve met on staff, and I can’t wait to see you continue to lead the opinions section next volume.
Friends and Family:
Remi: Thank you for never joining The Hatchet. While we probably could have used your business expertise and knack for photography, I know you would have gotten fed up with how disorganized everything usually is. But more importantly, thank you for sticking with me since that blurry night trekking from Madison Hall to the monuments. You are a caring, wise and steady friend that I am so lucky to have in my life. Taking in your perspective on the world never fails to make things appear clearer in my mind. You have charted your path and confronted challenges over the past year with so much strength and resolve. And I have no doubt that you have many big, exciting things ahead of you. Just don’t forget about me when you’re living in your oceanfront mansion on the West Coast.
Mom, Dad, Michaela and Jack: My first, and favorite, editors. I’d be nothing without all of your love, support and encouragement. Thank you for putting up with my constant chatter about this newspaper over the past four years. I hope after reading this you can understand why I always had so much to say.
– 30 –
