When I first started writing for The Student at the end of my second year, I didn’t realise how important it would be to my time at University. The trepidation of getting my first pitch from the rather intimidating trio of Alex, Abigail and Ben has long gone now, but what started as a weekly chance for me to yap my heart out has now become a really lovely part of my life.
At The Student, I found a bizarre mix of weird, brilliant, and passionate people who deeply cared about student journalism, and, although there is so much chop and change in the editorial and committee team, the new faces that emerged always had their own little stories to tell.
At times, the paper, particularly the opinion section, can feel a bit self-indulgent. There exists an unacknowledged pact between writer and editor, the former, writing words they don’t know if anyone will ever read, and the later curating those words, for what can sometimes feel like an imagined audience. The relentlessness of a print week can be all consuming, but after eight hours in the bunker surrounded by a few people with half empty cups of coffee, on four hours sleep, it’s hard not to feel an immense feeling of solidarity with those who you are splitting hairs with trying to put the paper in print.
Even after all that, there are still the inevitable typos: names misspelt and the odd drop-cap in the wrong font. But that’s okay because it’s a Student Newspaper, the messy inconsistencies and incoherence of student life live through its pages. Reading other people’s ranting, their ideas, sometimes fully-formed, others not quite coherent, you are confronted with the vast messiness of student-life and try to put a little mark of your own on the world.
My time at the paper was always going to be too short, but, as Anni would say, under the glare of the homophobic lighting in the bunker, I found a community, a group of people who were ambitious, passionate and, most importantly, just very lovely. As I yap for, perhaps the last time, not knowing if anyone but the editors will ever read this, I know I’m going to miss it, but most of all, I’m going to miss the people.
Image by Ross Doran for The Student
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A Goodbye to the Opinion Section
When I first started writing for The Student at the end of my second year, I didn’t realise how important it would be to my time at University. The trepidation of getting my first pitch from the rather intimidating trio of Alex, Abigail and Ben has long gone now, but what started as a weekly chance for me to yap my heart out has now become a really lovely part of my life.
At The Student, I found a bizarre mix of weird, brilliant, and passionate people who deeply cared about student journalism, and, although there is so much chop and change in the editorial and committee team, the new faces that emerged always had their own little stories to tell.
At times, the paper, particularly the opinion section, can feel a bit self-indulgent. There exists an unacknowledged pact between writer and editor, the former, writing words they don’t know if anyone will ever read, and the later curating those words, for what can sometimes feel like an imagined audience. The relentlessness of a print week can be all consuming, but after eight hours in the bunker surrounded by a few people with half empty cups of coffee, on four hours sleep, it’s hard not to feel an immense feeling of solidarity with those who you are splitting hairs with trying to put the paper in print.
Even after all that, there are still the inevitable typos: names misspelt and the odd drop-cap in the wrong font. But that’s okay because it’s a Student Newspaper, the messy inconsistencies and incoherence of student life live through its pages. Reading other people’s ranting, their ideas, sometimes fully-formed, others not quite coherent, you are confronted with the vast messiness of student-life and try to put a little mark of your own on the world.
My time at the paper was always going to be too short, but, as Anni would say, under the glare of the homophobic lighting in the bunker, I found a community, a group of people who were ambitious, passionate and, most importantly, just very lovely. As I yap for, perhaps the last time, not knowing if anyone but the editors will ever read this, I know I’m going to miss it, but most of all, I’m going to miss the people.
Image by Ross Doran for The Student
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