Every so often in our lives, we have the privilege of experiencing amazing moments—those that cause overwhelming awe to creep up unexpectedly and overwhelm us. Somehow, these moments find us at the most opportune times. They make us feel alive, and they ignite and envelop our souls. When it’s time for these moments to end, their wonder leaves us feeling whole. And, while we’re sorry to let them go, we also feel incredibly privileged just to have been a part of them.
The Clarion has been one (well, several) of those moments for me. This paper is an institution. After all, it has served as “The Voice of the Pioneers since 1899.” It represents the dedication, hard work, and—most importantly—love! of students from more than 115 years of DU’s history, and I am no exception.
I’d like to say I found the Clarion, but the truth is that the Clarion found me. In one of life’s amazing, beautiful, and overwhelming moments, it reached out and grabbed on to me when I needed it the most. And for that I will be forever thankful.
It has, of course, challenged me unlike anything has ever challenged me before. It has shown me how incredibly difficult it is to be simultaneously a boss, a supporter, a consultant, and a friend. It has introduced me to what it’s like to work in a job that is often thankless—one that takes far too many hours (from everyone on staff) for far too little pay, respect, and acknowledgement. It has a way of pushing me just a little too far just a little too often.
It has instilled in me a very strong opinion about the oxford comma.
But it has also shown me the rewards of toiling over something I love and believe in wholeheartedly. It has proven to me—time and time again—that what’s meant to be will find a way. It has demonstrated to me firsthand that ideas can become realities with a little elbow grease. It has forced me to grow more—as both a manager and a person—than I ever imagined possible. It has taught me how to be professional under pressure. It has introduced me to some of the most incredible and inspiring people I may ever have the pleasure of knowing.
And—without a doubt—it has changed my life forever.
I am incredibly proud of what our staff of more than 35 students has accomplished over the past year. We created a new look for the paper, including sleeker designs and layouts. We added more weekly columns and blogs to give our writers a chance to focus on what they’re really passionate about and our readers something to follow each week. We worked to tighten our content, making it more relevant and interesting to our readers. Evan Hicks, the Clarion’s first cartoonist in recent history, brought laughs with his fantastic “Pioneer Problems.” We launched marketing campaigns and competitions to help engage our readers and give students experience in as many aspects of the business of running a newspaper as possible. We laid the groundwork for a completely new Clarion website.
Perhaps most importantly, we forged friendships that I suspect will last much longer than our time with the Clarion. Through that process, I also had the distinct pleasure of watching our staff grow from inexperienced, unsure trainees into strong, confident individuals who consistently do everything they can to make the Clarion great. To all of you, thank you for your dedication, hard work, and love. The Clarion would not be what it is today without each and every one of you.
Etched outside Sturm Hall is a quote by B. Stanley that reads, “To laugh often and love much… To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; to give of one’s self… This is to have succeeded.”
As I move on to new pursuits, I hand the torch (or the firework, depending on the week…) of leading the Clarion to Connor and Meg. I trust that the love and laughter, beauty and best, and—of course—adventure of the Clarion will continue to lead us to success and inspire us with those rare but truly amazing moments.
