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.
The Hatchet is cluttered.
Anyone who’s ever stepped foot within the walls of our townhouse would agree. Stacks of old editions fill every nook, ominous carpet stains expose coffee spills from chronic late nights, and inside jokes from staff members past and present checker the whiteboards.
But if you look closely, in true Hatchet fashion, these fingerprints from the past tell a story.
I could feel it from the first time I entered The Hatchet’s townhouse, which came a bit earlier than most during my senior year of high school. It was a visit some might chalk up to what they call my status as a “Hatchet nepo baby” but what I just call fate.
My older brother, then The Hatchet’s senior-news-editor-in-training, decided to take me under his wing and showed me around The Hatchet’s home base as I walked in circles around campus one spring day, utterly torn on whether to attend GW. I remember standing in the newsroom for the first time, seeing the pen marks staining the desks and the picture frames displaying our biggest scoops.
Journalists had made news there. I wanted to be one of them.
That day in The Hatchet’s townhouse, I could feel the history hanging thick in the air. Four years later, I still feel it every time I walk through the door.
The Hatchet is the institution it is because of the people who’ve felt it too, the ones who followed the scent of journalism up the front steps of our townhouse and never turned back. They’re the same people who crowd around the computer screen in the basement as we read through the paper one last time before sending it to print each week, scrutinizing every last headline and caption. And they’re the same ones who stand at the foot of the townhouse steps at the end of every late-night prodo, no matter the time, to say goodnight before walking home.

Despite our groans and complaints about the weekly torrent of Google Docs edits and the slog to whip our stories into shape by Sunday, we do it again every week, eagerly, even, because there’s always been an unspoken understanding — we’re a part of something much bigger than we can even comprehend.
The Hatchet’s history, like much of its operations, is a web of contradictions, just as cluttered as our newsroom or offices. It’s illuminating, frustrating, impressive and strained. We’ve gotten things wrong, we’ve learned, we’ve changed course and we’ve tried again.
For better or for worse, The Hatchet is part of who I am. I’ve fought for it, stood by it and tried to do my part to improve it, just as many have done before me and countless more will do after me, for as long as the orderly chaos of The Hatchet persists.
To the ones who made it better:
Jarrod: I’ll never be able to fully thank you for introducing me to this place. Within the walls of the townhouse, you taught me how to be a journalist, just like you taught me how to read. From ripping my stories apart in rounds of Google Docs edits to our editorial bickering (you were right that Spring Fling belonged to Culture) and forcing me to cold source 50 students in one day (which I still think was light hazing), I’d give anything to do it all again. To this day, whenever I enter the EIC office, I almost expect to still see you behind the desk, hunched over your laptop, snacking on a bag of Combos and breaking a story. If I exhibited even an ounce of your leadership this past year, I’ll know I did something right. Thanks for always being my big brother first, even when you were my editor.
Grace: I don’t think I’ll ever figure out how to articulate what your friendship has meant to me. God knows I gave it a shot during our hot seat and failed miserably. We started out as reporters on the same beat, but now I see you more as a sister. So many amazing memories come to mind when thinking of this ride together. Heart-to-hearts at the Woodley Park Metro station as you single-handedly convinced me not to go abroad and to be your managing editor. Running down the street belting “That’s Life” after a Pedialyte salesman bought us drinks on your 21st. Cackling over jokes in the EIC office that only we find funny. Forming a shorthand language and feeding off each other’s vocabulary. But more importantly, it’s been the honor of a lifetime to watch you lead this year and to grow alongside you. You’re bold and unapologetic. You speak and people listen. But you’re kind and thoughtful with your direction. Let’s do this again sometime. I had a blast.
Ianne: If you had told the two girls timidly entering the Hatchet townhouse for the first time for the fall open house that one day they’d run the paper together, I think they would’ve passed out. I still remember exchanging DMs with you while I sat in my senior year AP bio class as we talked about committing to the School of Media & Public Affairs and our love for Gilmore Girls. Even then, I knew you were one to watch out for. The entire paper this year has benefited from your sharp mind, your encyclopedia-level administration knowledge and your reliable calmness even in the face of our most stressful moments. There’s something comforting about editing in the basement and seeing you perched in the mitt cranking out edits on admin or sports stories, surrounded by your many bevs. I’ll miss that. You’ve kept us steady on management this year, and I couldn’t have done any of it without you by my side.
Sage: I’m continuously in awe of the level of thought and care you’ve brought to our photos this year. I genuinely believe we have one of the strongest photo sections in recent Hatchet history, and much of that can be attributed to the team you’ve put together and the standards you’ve set for every visual. Through moments of high stress, your calmness has cut through the tension and given me pause to remind myself why we do what we do. But above all, I can tell how deeply you care about your team, this paper and seeing The Hatchet succeed. You’ve left this paper better than when you found it, and I hope you can see that like I do. I can’t wait to follow along with all of the stories you’ll tell from here. You just get it, and I couldn’t have done any of this without you.
Nikki: My time on The Hatchet starts and ends with you. I remember us ending an unsuccessful cold sourcing trip for Isha one cold December evening at the District House Chick-fil-A, where we connected over chicken nuggets about whether we should dare apply for editor positions. Little did we know less than a year later we’d be taking on the student life beat side by side. I miss our time reporting together — staking out events in the cold and rain, tag-teaming cold sourcing in Kogan and laughing through edits in the newsroom. It was a no-brainer for me when we asked you to be our community relations director this year. Even through our student life days, you had this level of investment and deep care in each of your pieces and sources. You’ve brought that same level of dedication to our most sensitive pieces this year, and it’s been inspiring to watch. You’ve set a precedent for the future of this role. Thanks for all of the wine nights and show tunes.
Cristina: You light up even the most bleak prodos. It could be 2 a.m., with multiple pages left to edit, but you always find a way to make us all laugh. But I also know you care more about this paper than most. I remember my first night in the basement, watching you run the copy corner like it was the Navy, and our stories have been all the better for it. Time and time again, you fight for The Hatchet, you show up for The Hatchet, and you want what’s best for The Hatchet. We’ve all been a stronger team from having you in our (copy) corner. See you on the cell block.
Fiona Riley: I couldn’t feel more confident about leaving this paper in your hands. You and Rachel have led the news team with such grace and ease this year, and I feel so immensely proud. You have such a sharp news sense and unwavering intuition in moments of high pressure. We saw it during the encampment and in every moment afterward. Trust your instincts and lean on your MEs where you can. You are where you are today because you put in the work — keep that in mind when things get tough next year. Grace, Ianne and I are a call away, though I doubt you’ll need it.
Rachel: You’ve continued to amaze me. Leading the news team has been no easy task this year, but you showed up every day without fail to get it done. And more importantly, you’re so quick to get up and brush yourself off after you’ve been knocked down, plus you do it with a smile and a clever joke. I admire that so much about your leadership this past year. Take breaks, check in with yourself, delegate, and look out for Fiona and Hannah. Leaning on your team will be the most valuable part of your job next year.
Hannah: I still remember sitting in the student center with you to walk you through edits on your first student life piece as a reporter, and you just seemed to get it. And clearly, you still do. You’ve continued to impress me through your unwavering confidence in your reporting this past year. I’m glad management will have your admin brain next volume. Get the work done, but remember to pause to enjoy the ride.
Nick Perkins: Thank you for caring so deeply about this paper. Whether it’s cooking a turkey for Hatchet Thanksgiving, pinch hitting a last-minute opinions piece on a Sunday night, supplying pastries for two-day prodos or resuscitating the Christmas Hatchet Hippo, you’ve been a shoulder to lean on and a prime example of why we do what we do. Editing your work in culture has been an honor and a joy. I can proudly say that after a year of editing your work, I can smell your Perkensian writing style from a mile away, packed with political Easter Eggs and winks to American history. Emerging from this year calling you my friend is one of my proudest accomplishments of the volume. We need more nerds like you on The Hatchet.
Caitlin: I still remember sitting in one of our first admin reporter meetings freshman year and thinking you seemed so cool and strikingly intelligent. Little did I know, neither of us were going anywhere, and I’d be sitting in the same spot thinking the same thing about you three years later, except now I’m lucky enough to call you a friend. Your writing is so poignant and unique, and I know you will do whatever it takes to turn in the cleanest draft to ever hit WordPress on a given day, no matter how many rounds of edits it takes. I’ve learned so much from getting to edit your work.
To Volume 121:
Rory: You took on some of our biggest stories this year with confidence and precision. Thank you for caring about your sources and getting the facts right. I know you’ll be an asset to management next year. It’s your responsibility to keep The Hatchet fun — use it wisely.
Tyler and Jenna: Senior news editor is arguably the hardest and most important position on the paper, but you both are here for a reason. You’re thoughtful writers and reporters, and more importantly, you care about this paper. Tyler, I knew you were a Cronkite-in-the-making when you walked out of Lisner Hall with that flag scoop a year ago. And Jenna, you’ve always been such a steady, reliable editor, churning out clean, sharp reporting every week without fail. You both will do great leading the news team through its next journey.
Ella: You’ve grown so much this past year. Covering metro in this era of news in D.C. has been an unmatched challenge, and you haven’t backed down. I’ll be looking for your byline.
Jennifer and Brooke: I may be biased, but student life is one of the most pivotal sections on this paper, and you two have been confronted with incredibly thorny, delicate topics this past year, but you’ve never shied away from the challenge. Thank you for caring deeply about your sources. Your empathy was an asset to the section.
Sachini: The academics beat is known to attract some incredibly strong writers and reporters through The Hatchet’s history, and you have been no exception. It’s been a privilege to watch you grow into your role this year, and I take comfort in knowing you’ll be bringing your clean writing style to copy next year.
Molly: It takes a special type of person to be The Hatchet’s Student Government Association whisperer, and you had the dog in you from the start. You should be proud of your work this year. Keep writing for news next year — they can always use a Vol. 121 returner.
Ryan Karlin: You’ve approached every week with a good attitude and sense of humor. Thank you for picking up where I left off in choosing the “This Week in History” each edition. It always gives us a laugh during read-through to see which zany headline you picked.
Annie: The loss of your voice on the paper will be felt next year. Thank you for being unapologetically yourself, both in your column and beyond. It’s been a privilege to (barely) edit your advice to students each week. I can’t wait to see where you take your trademark editorial style next.
Sandra: I can’t believe we started out bonding over cosmopolitans in Paris about your goal to become sports editor. You’ve come so far since then, and your positive attitude has never wavered. Sports will miss you next year.
Ben: It’s a special thing to grow alongside a section throughout your time on staff. Your writing has only gotten stronger, and I’m so proud of the profiles you’ve pitched and put out in the past year. Your athletics expertise will continue to be an asset to sports and all of the new and returning editors next year.
Syd: When we decided we wanted to introduce a sports column this year, it was clear you were the best person for the job. I’ve loved watching your editorial voice flourish on staff this year, both in analyzing the latest updates from the athletics department and in broadening your arguments to more institutional topics on Ed Board.
Ryan Jainchill: Whenever I see an rj byline waiting for me on the workflow, I know I’m in for a treat. You have such a strong editorial voice when it comes to courtside coverage, and I’ve truthfully adopted some of your sports lingo into my everyday vocabulary (the shot was money from downtown). You are genuinely curious about and invested in your beat, and it translates to your work.
Andi: Taking on any section as a solo editor is a daunting task, but you helmed Opinions this year with poise and a kind, empathetic heart. Don’t forget the value of your voice. It’s incredibly pivotal in times like these.
Madie: You’re a beautiful writer, and an even more beautiful human. Thank you for diving into each budgeting meeting with eagerness and excitement. Your careful perspective has benefited the entire opinions section this year, and I can’t wait to continue to watch you grow.
Lexi: I met you for the first time during our encampment coverage, when you officially became news photo editor, and I knew immediately that you’d be a force. You have such a keen eye for quality pictures, and it’s made our photos sharp and powerful, even if it’s something mundane, like a shot of the Department of Education. I’m always confident we can trust you to have a vision for the page.
Mathylda: I’ve been so impressed with how quickly you dove into news photo after joining this semester. Thank you for always coming to budgeting meetings with fresh ideas and eager to solve any hurdles that come our way. I know you’ll lead news photo next year with ease.
Jordan: You are an incredibly talented photographer, and our visuals have only benefited from your suggestions. Even when we haven’t seen eye to eye on some design decisions, I’ve always admired how strongly you feel about making the paper better and finding solutions to some of our biggest roadblocks.
Arwen: I know I can always rely on you for a midnight debrief over a plate of chocolate chip cookies. I’m so glad we got you on staff this year. You can tell how deeply you care for each assignment and the high standards you hold for every photo. We need that level of thoughtfulness on staff, and I know you’ll do great things leading the photo section next year.
Peaches (the cat): Thank you for being my late-night bestie. Even the times when you pretended you didn’t want to hang out with me during prodo, I could tell you did deep down. Don’t listen to the haters who say I don’t know how to hold you correctly. They’re just jealous of our bond.
Kaiden: You always find a way to make us laugh during photo check. Your Snapshots and photo essays this year have frozen such funny, dynamic frames to liven up a page. I can’t wait to keep up with the work you do.
Shea, Lindsay and Anna: Copy is such a backbone to what we do. Thanks for sweating the small things so we don’t have to. Your sharp eye for style errors have made us stronger.
Dylan: Whenever I used to see your initials marked next to a fact check on a big story, I knew we were in good hands. You’re overdue to be joining the news team, and I’m so excited to see how you make academics your own next year. Have a blast with the Political Unit this summer. You’ll be with the best minds in the business.
Annaliese: Thank you for your tireless fact checks. You’ve been an integral part in making our reporting stronger.
Diana and Carly: Culture is a treasure trove for creativity, and you both have proven you have the drive and editorial flare needed to take over the section as your own. Don’t be afraid to get experimental with your writing and pitches next year. The section is strengthened by its editors’ willingness to break the mold.
Fiona Bork: My student life daughter! I was so proud to pass the student life baton to you. You led the section through such a testing time, which not many could have done. I’m confident you’ll do great things as CRD.
Ethan: Thanks for making The Hatchet cool again. You have such a clear vision on what will get people to engage with our work, and the entire paper has benefited from your creative mind. Sorry for the times we forgot to send captions or tweets back.
Max, Anaya and Carmen: Thank you for the reliable flow of tweets, story cards and grid posts. I know you all will continue to be a unit in next year’s social team, and I’ll be a loyal like on all of your future content.
Nick, Ava and Kiko: I didn’t know much about editing video at the start of this year, but you all have continued to impress me with every piece we churn out. I always look forward to seeing how you three have brought your pitches to life through your distinct editorial talents. You should be so proud of the pieces you’ve put out this year.
Anusha, Mollie and Livie: You three are the life of the basement. I don’t know what I’d do without our 2 a.m. Glee or Jeopardy viewings to cap off a prodo. Our visuals have flourished from your skills this volume — thanks for sharing your talents with us.
An: Your illustrations have brought our guides to life this year. I’m so glad next year’s staff will have you on their side to keep cranking out exceptional visuals.
Josh: I wish we had more time! You are such a cool person, and I’m so glad we’ve gotten to get to know each other toward the end of this year. Your data prowess has been so exciting to watch. Thanks for gracing us with your talents this semester and for being an invaluable addition to the senior alliance.
Max and Lizzie: With all of your podcast drafts, it was always clear you both were pitching and pursuing stories you were genuinely interested in, and it showed in the final product. I can’t wait to follow along with the pod episodes you both put out next year.
Cade: Being The Hatchet’s business manager is arguably the most unexpectedly impossible job on this paper. Thank you for taking the reins this year and keeping our paper afloat.
Vol 122 news team: Being a Hatchet news editor is a privilege and one of the best positions on this paper. Approach each assignment with curiosity, and look for stories everywhere, and you’ll do great. But don’t forget to lean on the editors around you. They’re the ones who’ll make your time count.
Former staff:
Zach: I’m still not 100% sure if hiring me as your publishing assistant was because you truly needed help with captions and This Week in History, or if it was all a ploy to derail me from going abroad. Either way, I can’t thank you enough for it. Through all of our basement feuds, I always laughed hardest during those prodos with you. I’ve continuously admired that at the core of your work as EIC was a love for writing, and it showed in every draft you cooked on and every story you wrote. You demanded only the best pitches from me when I was student life editor, and both myself and the section were better for it. Thank you for continuing to allow us to rope you into our Hatchet pickles this year. You could have so easily turned around and never looked back after leaving, especially at the beginning of encampment coverage last spring, but you’ve still shown up and had our backs. We’re more appreciative than you know.
Nick Pasion: You once told me being managing editor was the best gig on the paper, and now I can confidently say you were right. I was always in awe of you — your steady sureness in your leadership, your inventiveness in your writing and your empathic ability to really see people on staff and what they needed. I’ve tried hard to follow your example this year. I miss your SNE-ship, even though you rarely edited me. I remember calling you on one occasion as a news editor when I was really knocked down in the middle of a reporting assignment. I had called to tell you I didn’t know if I could get back up and finish the story. But you sat on the phone with me, talked me off a ledge and gave me the message of tough love that I needed — telling me to get off my ass and get back to work. I did and developed some thicker skin because of it. I hope Seattle is treating you well. Visit us more.
Jaden: Some of my fondest prodo memories are deliriously cackling with you in the basement over God knows what. Your presence and copy prowess have been incredibly missed around here this year. You are The Hatchet’s biggest warrior — a Hatchet problem was always a problem you took to heart, and you didn’t back down until you put out every fire that found its way to you. I’ve done my best to keep the ship afloat this year, per your wise advice. I hope I did it justice. Thank you for always being just a call away this year.
Isha: It’s no mistake that some of The Hatchet Greats started in your beat. In fact, the Volume 119 news team was essentially just an army of your former reporters. And it’s because you cared enough to teach everyone you crossed paths with how to be a stronger writer and reporter, and we were all better for it. Thank you for molding me into the journalist I am today — and for being the first to introduce me to Otter when no one else would.
Abby Kennedy: Thank you for trusting me with your beat all those years ago. You left student life better than where you found it. I can only hope I continued what you started.
Sejal: I remember being so in awe of you as a freshman, and now I can’t believe I’ve been lucky enough to watch your career take off. Even through our investigation that never was (rip), I cherished every moment I got to work alongside you. I can’t wait to see all you do.
Nicholas Anastacio: My CNN pal – from basting the inaugural Hatchet Thanksgiving Turkey to supplying us with a full Christmas tree, your love for this paper was evident. Keep on killing it at National Journal.
Eoighan: You may have joined the Vol. 119 news team a semester late, but I think we only really became a team when we gained you as a friend. I miss our late nights cackling over bottles of wine while ranting about everything under the sun, even when you may have harmed your face card.
Erika: I’ve lost count of the number of times this volume that I’ve uttered the words “I wish Erika was here.” I think there’s an alternate universe somewhere in which you didn’t graduate early, and you joined me and Ianne to form a triple ME cohort. I miss your sharp thinking and precision on this paper.
Sophia: Some of my fondest memories from Vol. 119 were laughing alongside you. I’ve loved keeping up with your stellar frames and can’t wait to see what you do next.
Some special mentions:
Professor Roberts: You once told me that it’s part of your muscle memory to wake up every day and write. I can only hope to one day reach that level of intimacy and familiarity with journalism. Thank you for showing me what it looks like to love this field.
The Hatchet’s Board of Directors: Your guidance has been assuring and invaluable through our tensest moments. Thank you all for having our back through thick and thin.
Mom and Dad: Allow me first to apologize for the six years of secondhand, Hatchet-induced stress that Jarrod and I have both put you through. Thank you for all of the calls and check-ins, the annual Hatchet Easter bagels and for always reading our coverage. I’m inexplicably grateful for the sacrifices you both have made to allow me to do this thing. I love you both so much.
Liv, Lexi, Stella, Maxine and Macyn: Coming back to you all after a long day of edits and Hatchet talk is like taking a deep sigh of relief. Thank you for your patience with me through all of the moments I’ve missed to work on this paper. I love each of you more than I could ever put into words. How lucky I am to have a seat at your table.
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