Senior Goodbyes 2016

Tuesday is the last day of print publication for The Michigan Daily in 2016, and the last paper the Daily’s 2016 class will make. Following Daily tradition, below the seniors say goodbye to 420 Maynard and reflect on the impact it has had on them, just as it has on thousands of students for the past 125 years. 

Fahd Ahsan, Daily Sports Writer

I came to the United States an unassuming 18-year-old from Pakistan, excited to see what the University of Michigan had in store for me. Three years later I’m graduating and this all happened way too fast.

I was told life in a new country would be hard, that cultural differences would be tough to work around, that I wouldn’t make friends as easily as I did back home and that winter would be unbearable. I’m happy to report that only the last point held true.

I liked writing and I liked sports, so I figured I’d find others like me at the Michigan Daily sports section. Boy, was I wrong.

I met people who thought of an egg-shaped-thing every time I said “football,” who thought Tom Brady instead of Leo Messi. People who watched a sport with a bat and ball that wasn’t cricket. People I now consider some of my favorite individuals.

Thank you Greg and Alejandro for being so welcoming and showing me that I belonged at the Daily. A large part of why I’m still here comes down to the two of you.

Thanks to the first of many Maxes (Cohen) for logging me into your account so I could post my first story. You got the ball rolling. (I still use your account sometimes, btw.)

To Lev, who said “We miss you buddy” when I bumped into him outside Sadako once I stopped writing because football (soccer) season ended.

Thanks Simon for inviting me to tailgate at your house and for your unmistakable sense of humor.

To those before me — Shaw, Feldman, Rubenstein, Leland, Fidelman — if only you knew how great of an influence you had on me.

To everyone I met sophomore year. Orion, Avi, Laney and Mike, you guys are my favorite hockey beat to date. Thank you Kennedy for the hype. Tyler for talking footy with me. Thanks Anna and Katie: you always brought out the best in everyone. Carney for making story meetings more entertaining than they needed to be. Cole for getting scared when I picked you up for Denny’s. And Ethan for every time you made fun of Derek (Ethan > Nama).

To the daily first-timers: Max (number three), Mark and Ben, thanks for covering football (soccer) with the same fervor that I had when I started. To Grace for the snapchats. Christian for loving footy as much as me. Anna, for not quitting sports after shadowing me. And to Sophie, who makes me coffee every week, thanks for a fun Fall Break and for every time you hung out with me after. I can only hope you guys remember me as fondly as I remember my seniors.

To the people I’m graduating with:

Minh, I *almost* scored on your IM footy team.

Whipple, your article on Kevin-the-traitor-Santo is still my favorite to date.

Chloe, I never would’ve survived six hours in Boston without your help.

Jacob and Kelly, I’ve never had to be at the Daily without you guys, and thankfully I won’t have to. I’ll miss you both dearly.

To Jake for being my boss for two years — I am convinced without you, the Daily sports section would have imploded long ago. Thanks for putting up with a Max for each of those years, it couldn’t have been easy.

Max Bultman, you’ve been like an older brother to me these past three years. Thanks for everything, Daily related and otherwise. For introducing me to chair-monkey. But most of all for when we were in Econ together and I thought about not writing anymore. You told me to come hang out at the Daily regardless.

Thanks to the people I came in with — I thought I had four years with you, and it sucks to have ended early.

Chris, I still remember reading your ‘cat story’, and thinking ‘Damn, this kid is good!’ I still read all your opinion columns, and can’t wait to keep doing so.

Ted, I’m glad you enjoyed getting from the airport to TDX in twelve minutes flat. Other people would probably freak out or something. Don’t forget about us in Hong Kong.

Betelhem, looking back to freshman year, I can’t believe that quiet girl at the sports meeting is going to be running them now. I know you’re going to kill it.

Sylvanna, thanks for graduating in three years. I couldn’t have done it alone.

And finally, Kevin Santo. Freshman year, we lived in the same building, covered football (soccer) and tennis together, and now you’re freaking MSE! I don’t think there is anyone here that I admire more than you, buddy.

I stand at the end of the road, and I can’t help but think I took the Daily for granted for far too long. The Michigan Daily has become my home away from home.

Allana Akhtar, Senior News Editor  

We always tell our reporters two of the most important parts of an article are angle and context. An event — whether it be a protest, a lecture, a provost’s resignation, a flood in a dorm — doesn’t occur in a vacuum. There’s a larger backdrop the event fits into, and it’s important to write with that narrative in mind.

Four years later, I’m tasked with putting my experiences at The Michigan Daily into context, and I’m struggling to find the right angle.

I could talk about how my reporting helped put the actions of the University into context. My freshman year, my editor sent me to report on what appeared to be complaints of infrastructural problems at the Trotter Multicultural Center. But I learned the problems with Trotter were more than just leaky pipes — it was how the building, the sole building named after a Black person and used as a safe space for anyone who feels marginalized on campus, was on the same street as numerous noisy fraternities, a 20-minute walk away from University buildings, and its deteriorating infrastructure symbolizing neglect from the administration. Throughout my time reporting on the numerous protests for more enrollment of minority students and the administration’s subsequent efforts to foster inclusion, I always think about how that conversation at Trotter came at a turning point for University relations into diversity, and how I was smack dab in the middle of it.

I could also talk about my place among all the other editors and writers in the Daily’s 126 year legacy. As a SNEd watching reporters, I frequently think about the time when I was a scared 18-year-old sitting at the news desk, listening to Nick Cruz talk to K.C. Wassman about the Daily’s birthday party, or Austen Hufford talking to Rachel Premack about his trip to Japan. My time at the Daily is bookmarked by the people who came before me those who will come after, people I barely know but who will remember me by both my first and last name.

Finally, I could talk about how even in my prized memories outside of the Daily, I always come back to this place. Some of my best memories are over summers in D.C. and San Francisco, at internships I could only get because of the work I did at the Daily. The most fun memory I have with my now-roommate and best friend was going to Chaldean Night with her, the night Peter Shahin caught my lying about getting out of EIC elections. Long after I leave the Daily, my friends and career will always bring me back here.

I could go on, but I think maybe the reason I can’t find an angle is because my story with the Michigan Daily is still ongoing — you can’t finish writing about an event until it’s over.

Chloe Aubuchon, Daily Sports Writer

The last two sodas I’ve bought from the Daily’s vending machine have been expired, and I can’t help but think, “I can take a hint.” But after three and a half years at the Daily, it seems impossible that I won’t be sitting in the newsroom until 1 a.m., arguing over what to get for dinner and playing “Songs of 2005” on Sporcle all night.

I started in the sports section as an out-of-state freshman with no idea what direction I wanted my college experience to take. Because of the Daily, I’ve written about wrestling matches, edited stories from virtually every sport and even interviewed Jack Harbaugh. But mostly, the Daily has given me a group of people who are dedicated. Dedicated to making a truly special paper every night, and dedicated to one another. Even when my path started to diverge from sports writing and I went from writing every weekend to editing only once a week, I never could quit heading to 420 Maynard every week.

So thank you to everyone on the sports section for midnight Denny’s runs, for beating The State News (12 straight times) and for making me a better writer. Thank you to Minh for scheduling the best editing days with me and playing “GeoGuesser” instead of doing homework every night. Thank you to Max and Jake for making it so fun to make a good paper. And thank you to everyone before me who ingrained the culture that makes the Daily such a special place. My college experience has been infinitely better because you have all been a part of it.

Amanda Allen, Managing Photo Editor

I think of all the positions on the Daily, being a photographer requires the most physical exertion. I’ve crawled on the floor in front of Gov. Rick Snyder at the State Capitol, I’ve chased down protesters all over Ann Arbor, and during the Michigan vs Indiana game, the last home game of my senior year, I spent five hours in the cold and snow running up and down a football field. I’ve always tried my hardest to get “the shot,” despite my relative lack of athletic skill.

But what I have learned is that it is not the physical effort that has made me stronger, it’s all of the people who have become my teammates and have counted on me and one another to produce quality journalism that we can be proud of. It’s the push to be the best I can be that has meant the world to me.

I seriously considered transferring schools in the second semester of my freshman year. I felt lost and alone, as many do when they uproot themselves from their families to live in a box of a dorm room by themselves. But thankfully, the one and only Emma Kerr, my first friend on campus who happened to live across the hall from me in West Quad, knew I liked photography and encouraged me to join The Michigan Daily. Whether it was due to my own determination to become a better photographer or Teresa Mathew’s delicious baked goods, I decided to stick around for a while.

A year later, I was preparing to be the managing photo editor for the summer of 2015. As Laura Schinagle was getting ready to start her half of the summer as editor in chief, I finally learned her last name. Her contact name in my phone had been “Laura Next Door” for almost a full two years before then — like Emma, Laura had lived in the same hall as me in West Quad. Who would have thought that 4th Michigan of West Quad would produce such talented women and leaders at The Michigan Daily? I’m thankful for Emma and Laura, two amazing people, for being my friends for four years and for all of those long nights together.

Now three three years later, I recognize that I am a part of a legacy of learning and growing and an experience that so many generations have loved and so many more will love.

Thank you to all of the Independent Photo Ladies who have led the photo team before me — Allison Farrand and Ruby Wallau, Teresa Mathew, Terra Molengraff and even Erin Kirkland, though we have not had much direct contact. To Allison and Ruby especially, thank you for the foundations of a love for photojournalism. To Terra, thank you for reassuring me that no matter what the show will go on, that a paper will always be produced; it’s gotten me through many stressful moments.

Thank you Luna Anna Archey and Virginia Lozano, because even though you weren’t managing editors it didn’t mean that you weren’t leaders and examples that I could only hope to emulate.

And of course I cannot leave out PSherm, who will not be forgotten, mostly because I moved the poster of your torso photoshopped onto a salmon into the photo closet where it will remain protected for posterity.

Thank you to my partner in crime, Grant Hardy. I am so thankful for your willingness to step up and although you were initially less experienced, you definitely proved that you belonged in the position (sometimes even more than me).

Thank you to the managing editors of 2016 for dedicating this year of your lives to quality journalism and for proving that a rustle can in fact be legitimate evidence in an argument.

To Amelia Cacchione and Emma Richter, you can do it. I hope that you find The Michigan Daily to be as much of a home and place of growth as I have.

Claire Bryan, Editorial Page Editor

I’ve been reading over hundreds of past goodbyes searching for patterns to put meaning to how I begin to say goodbye to this enormous mess of a place that has been so finely braided into my life for the past four years. What stands out to me among these goodbyes is not the reflections on the pressure the Daily and its “125 years of editorial freedom” put on us all or the friendships that I don’t doubt have lasted a lifetime, but how in 500 words we each close our editorship and in doing so open holes to be filled by new staffers. The evergreen beauty of this place is that each year, new students embark on the biggest learning curve of their life and get to try their hands at fulfilling this full-time job of producing a newspaper every night. I find it is the cyclic nature of this ritual that we are all forever indebted to.   

So beyond any goodbye to this newspaper or my friends or all the different, evolving versions of myself that this place witnessed, my goodbye instead is addressed to all of you who trudged up the dark staircase, entered the huge newsroom, mistook the design desk for a reception desk and left feeling bewildered, hopeless and unable to relate to the distinct culture that reverberates between desks.

That’s how I felt repeatedly, for years and at times in unhealthy ways. I let this feeling of incompetency shape my understanding of journalism and my understanding of elite work. I let it tell me I wasn’t good enough and let it challenge my judgment of good writing.

Let joining the Daily do all of this to you. Let the work you do here be the most difficult work you have ever done and let yourself disagree with the merit of that work. Learn from this work: Understand the importance of journalistic ethics and objectiveness and precedent and understand it well — so that you can question it, push its boundaries and evolve that work into work that captures and illuminates your own voice.

Find your voice whether that be editing or photographing or coding or writing or icebreaking. Please know this place is where any creative project can be started. Never doubt that. You must and will find ways in which you can start your project, and then your next and then your next.

Find the people that pull you. Nourish them with your imperfections.

Theresa, thank you for telling me to dance on the desks (all of the desks) at two in the morning, for the blind belief you have in me, for the boundless support. Peter, thank you for the hug after the event I covered where I got yelled at in zero-degree weather freshman year. Thank you for debriefing the entire thing with me in front of you holding back tears and then once more, coming back into the corner of the newsroom where I was writing the story, stopping and saying: “I forgot the most important question. Are you OK?”

Sam, thank you for showing me the essence of enthusiasm for journalism. I will never forget sharing the joy of finding a story tip or nugget of research or important quote from a source with you on late afternoons that turned into late nights effortlessly. If it wasn’t for your friendliness I wouldn’t have kept coming back and if it wasn’t for your guidance I wouldn’t have found my place at the Daily.

Derek and Aarica, thank you, thank you for taking a chance on me and thank you for letting me teach you about hugs. Amabel, thank you for talking to me at the back of the room at elections circa 2013. Lev, thank you for always seeing the best in me, and for your patience and your understanding.  

Sugerman, thank you for always being there and always getting it.

Shoham, you are forever my role model, my humble teacher and my shining light.

Laura, you opened your entire being to me. I’ve never learned so much, at such an urgent rate, alongside a friend.

Regan, you taught me about priorities and respect. You’ve morphed the walls of this newsroom into a home for me. I’m so proud of you. I’m so honored to stand by your side.

And to all our senior editors, the five of you are each the joy I find in the little things.

The Daily was the hardest work I’ve ever done, but not because as an 18-year-old I interviewed the University president and called professionals I never thought would pick up the phone and as a 21-year-old I asked a staff of freshmen and sophomores to solve issues of national importance, but because in four years I demanded more from the Daily than I ever thought I could need or receive. For teaching me that, I am forever grateful.

To all of you who don’t fit in at the Daily, proceed past the design desk, know your power, forcibly change all you interact with and build your community one person at a time, from the ground up. In turn, and in time, the Daily will give you exactly what you need.

Max Bultman, Managing Sports Editor

The first time I left the Daily, I called a friend and explained why I just couldn’t see myself joining.

Based on the mass meeting, I thought everyone who joined this newspaper got sucked into its cult. They spent all their time together. They all dated each other. Who would want that?

It turns out, I did.

I’ll never forget the memories I have thanks to this place. I’ll cherish that late night walk to the softball dugout with Lo, just like I’ll cherish taping our first articles to our dorm wall. There was that trip to Tallahassee, where Jake and I experienced America’s worst motel and most cost-effective barbecue.

And I’ll always have Chicago, where Allison and I snuck out of the hotel on two straight nights to go for late night walks. We got so lost looking for Navy Pier that we had to pay a homeless man named Shorty to guide us.

So, yes, the Daily turned out to be exactly what I thought. The part I never realized was how much it would all mean to me.

Zach and Everett, thanks for setting the bar impossibly high. Having your old columns in the archive made it impossible to ever get cocky.

Neal, Wass, Liz and Slovin, I still look up to you all, and the fact you care enough to check in now and then means the world.

Greg, you gave me the confidence to actually try and make a career out of this. Why on earth did you do that to me?

Alejandro,

Sup.

And thanks for showing me the best dumplings on earth.

Felds, you’re one of the best DJs I know. Thanks for being my road trip partner.

Shannon, Ben and Alex, thanks for showing us how to beat State News.

Jeremy and Jesse, watching you write soccer stories at a McDonald’s off the highway was a strangely thrilling experience. Thanks for showing me the ropes.

Simon, thanks for all the laughs, and for a hell of a weekend in Arizona.

Jason, Minh, Kevin and Justin, thanks for letting me crash your trip to Cincinnati. I’ll never forget those turtle burritos.

Alexa, thanks for always being down to talk Miami sports.

Raj, thanks for ping pong, broomball and the realest advice ever.

Zach, thanks for never letting the energy level get too low and ensuring we never wasted food.

Lev, I have this memory in the dub hoops press box with you, going over midterm voting data and realizing sports writers could care about other things. Thanks for showing me that — and for the “econ” help.

Max, I hope I kept your legacy sufficiently intact. You taught me more than anyone about this job, and a couple of those things weren’t even related to drinking.

Minh, we owe each other one more night of “Max and Minh” and Sammy Adams.

Brad, I’m sorry I didn’t make it to more quidditch games.

Chloe, I wish every voter in this country had to personally answer to you.

Brandon, Betelhem, Chris, Maggie, Fahd and Sylvanna, the passion you all gave this place kept me going on the hard days. Thanks for that.

Photogs, road trips and stories would be less fun without you.

Mark, Nick, Brendan and Angelique, it’s been amazing to work with you all. Mark, thanks for the chance and for all your support along the way.

Kelly, thanks for putting up with me as often as you did. You made all of us better in ways that went far beyond writing.

Jacob, thanks for the games of catch, the endless laughs and the occasional Taco Tuesday. We’ve got many more of each to come.

Thursday night crew, you’re the best.

Mom, Dad and Gram, thanks for your endless well of support, especially in the tough times. I love you all.

Kevin, Ted, Mike, Orion and Laney, thanks for never letting these nights get dull. I’m proud of you, and I’ll miss you dearly.

Allison, I love you. Thanks for the late night walks and talks, teaching me to cook and for exhibiting a level of patience I’ll never understand. We’re long overdue for some real dates, but I expect a whole lot of time on my hands pretty soon.

Jake, I can’t imagine having done this job with anyone else, and not just because you laugh at my jokes. Even when things got stressful, you made sure we got them right. I’ll always admire that. As a final send-off, what do you say we go to Miami and blow all the budget money we saved under your watch? Responsibility is great, but five-star resorts are forever.

To the younglings, keep making this place what it has been for so many. You’re brilliant and capable and I have so much faith in you. And, uh, ignore what I just told Jake.

Emily Campbell, Copy Chief

The Daily is truly my second home at the University. I started the moment I walked onto campus, and I’ve spent more hours in the newsroom than any other place on campus — both grudgingly and enthusiastically — and I wouldn’t change it for the world. In the Daily I have a family of committed, intelligent, thoughtful people who pour so much hard work and love into the creation of this paper; it’s a beautiful thing to witness every night, and has been a defining experience of my time here at Michigan.

To my fellow copy cats: I loved every minute of debate, laughter and passive aggressive corrections we shared. In you all I found a like-minded group of individuals who share my love of language, Oreos and correcting other people, and I couldn’t be more grateful. My era at the desk is sadly coming to an end, but I have complete faith that you will continue to uphold the integrity and standards of our paper, because I know you all care about it as much as I do.

Brandon Carney, Daily Sports Writer

Four years ago I attended my first Michigan basketball game. It was in Atlanta, where I was joined by more than 60,000 onlookers, most of whom were decked out in either their Cardinal red or Michigan maize.

I, however, made a different fashion statement.

The jeans and tennis shoes I was wearing were nothing new, but I threw countless people off when they saw the unique combination of my zip-up Louisville sweatshirt that I had worn to almost every Cardinals home game the past few years and my new “Leave it All on the Floor” Michigan shirt I had bought from The M Den earlier that week.

It was halfway through the second half, and the Cardinals were on some sort of run when the woman, who was wearing red head-to-toe, tapped on my shoulder and said, “For a Louisville fan, you’ve been awfully quiet.”

I then turned around to reveal the Michigan T-shirt that was hidden under my jacket to the lady.

“Oh,” the woman said. “Well, you surely have to be cheering for one of them.”

“No,” I replied, “I just want to see a good game.”

I don’t know when or where my last Michigan basketball game will be as a student, but thanks to The Michigan Daily and objective journalism, I’ll be giving the same response I gave that woman at my first game at my finale as well.

Four years ago I wouldn’t have thought I’d be asking questions directly to John Beilein and Jalen Rose or driving overnight to New York to cover games in Madison Square Garden or jumping across tables in a newsroom yelling “Dude, sweet” while trying to catch a Frisbee.

Only at the Daily are these things possible, and with the people who make the newsroom, and especially the corner next to the conference room, a special place.

So thanks to Jake, Max and Max for your guidance the last two years and being the type of leaders that make my job so much easier. You all will probably be the coolest bosses I’ll ever have.

To Ted, Crowder, Orion, Mike, Avi, Laney, Ethan, Kennedy and all the other youngsters who hopefully learned as much from me as I have from you all. The Daily will continue to be a meaningful place for anyone who walks through the door as long as you all are around

Thanks to Jacob, Kelly, Brad, Chloe and Fahd. I may not have walked in the door the same time as all of you, but I won’t be walking out of it with a less fine crew than all of you.

To Simon and Lev for setting the bar high on the hoops beat and softening Tom out for us.

Thanks to Zach Shaw who came down to Louisville and let me cover the NCAA Baseball Regional. You’re welcome to stay in my basement and use the shower down there whenever you’re in town.

To the past editors — Greg, Alejandro, Raj, Feldman, Jason and all the others — for showing me the way in the beginning and helping me improve as a writer every step of the way.

Thanks to my parents, family and friends who have had to sit there listening to my stories about covering whatever event I was talking about that day. Those times you all smiled and nodded when I asked if you had read my stories mean a lot.

And finally, to Minh, Kevin and Betelhem. There’s still work to be done on America’s best college newspaper basketball beat. Let’s get it done.

Jackie Charniga, Senior News Editor

There’s a lot I could say about my background, predilections and passions that led me to the Michigan Daily newsroom. I could write about calling my parents after every stage of my training, wanting to throw up after my trial stories because they weren’t perfect, or slamming away at the keys of my laptop in the newsroom like a mad composer churning out a performance.

Instead, like a rambling Oscars speech a minute into the get-off-the-stage music, my goodbye will be a list of thank yous. It will be disgusting, oozing the sentiment and praise characteristic of one recently released from an obligation. Rock ‘n’ roll. Deal with it.

For organizational purposes, it will start macroscopically and move toward the specific. I begin with MDesk, otherwise known as the meetings where I sometimes yell. I can’t believe you guys let me talk during those. Remember that time I quoted Karl Marx? And slammed my fist on the table and screamed, “We are The Michigan Daily!”? What was that?

To the trendy kids at Arts who occasionally let me sit at their table — you rock and you rock hard. I know now that I was wrong to be intimidated by your cool style and ginchy lingo. And Sports, for teaching me sports can be so much more than games.

Photo: You’re killing the game. I love Amanda far too much to begin describing it. Grant — sorry for the whole “calling you a dad in plaid ‘til you get mad” thing.

There should be a parade for the editors at the Copy Desk who dealt with me with grace, dexterity and tolerance for an entire year. Really, there should be a plaque or something. Looking at you, Taylor.

Design, thank you for knowing things so that I don’t have to. I am proud of my rudimentary knowledge of InDesign, and grateful to your artistic, creative and stable hands.

All of our writers on News: It has been a pleasure and a privilege to work with you. You are some of the most engaged, committed, kind-hearted, considerate, diligent and wonderful students on this campus. I have so much enjoyed laughing with you and at you, hearing your stories and helping you to tell stories, watching you grow and expand like leaves on a Chia Pet. (Small aside to Brian, my firstborn: You have contributed greatly to something bigger than yourself, and you did it with style. You’re welcome.)

My fellow senior editors: Emma, Alyssa, Allana, Katie and Camy. My late-night companions, my breaking news babes, my leading ladies. There’s very little I wouldn’t do for you. Your kindness and friendship have guided me through the past year.

I would also like to specifically thank Emilie Plesset for guiding me, Will Greenberg for taking a chance on me, Sam Gringlas for always telling me to catch my breath and Amabel Karoub for eviscerating my false confidence in the process of teaching me how to edit. I admired and feared you all.

If my plane crashes and I drown in the Atlantic, my greatest regret would be not thanking Emma Kerr in person for the past year. She has called me out whenever I’ve been wrong and displayed fierce loyalty for the times when I’ve been right. Not only did you decide to employ me, but you actually moved in with me. From your elbow I have learned more about structure, clarity, newsworthiness and journalistic quality than any AP Style guide. Watching you in action in the warzone of election night will be a memory I will reference for years to come.

Last but not least, O Captain, my Captain. Shoham, who doesn’t care about your feelings in the best way possible and slays with her occasionally illegible corrections and rapier wit. And Laura, with great advice and soft hugs, who is truly the backbone of this institution.

I was a link in a very long chain, like the errand paper clip dangling at the end of the paper clip chain created by Michael Sugarman during my SNEd interview to torture me.

Am I replaceable? Time will tell.

Kathleen Davis, Managing Arts Editor

I joined the Arts section in September of my freshman year, eager to find a niche and avoid the dreaded syndrome of “lost freshman” I kept hearing so much about. While it took some time to catch my breath between class and writing an article per week, I knew from the start the Daily would be at the center of my formative experiences in college.

For the last two years as an editor, my excuse for being busy three nights a week from 5:30 to 10 p.m. was that I was “at work.” While this was true, being at the Daily has never really felt like “work.” Instead, sitting at the Arts desk is synonymous with sushi nights, boxed wine, blasting ABBA from our computer and sending Sports anonymous love notes during elections (yes, that was us).

Because of this publication, I feel equipped with a few more skills to handle whatever life throws at me after graduation. The future is uncertain, but no matter how far I am from Ann Arbor I know I’ll always feel a little bit tethered to the Daily. And after three and a half years of chasing that elusive interview, crafting the perfect sentence and late night writing sessions, I’m not sad to leave. It feels right to pass things off to the next class of shy freshman, and I’m ready for the next step in my journey. More than anything, the end of this semester has left me introspective about the past few years, and thankful for the lasting impacts they have had on me.

To community culture — the misfit beat I was graciously adopted into as a shy 18 year old. Under the tutelage of John Bohn, then Gillian Jakab, I lost my defiant penchant for passivity and was thoughtfully given the tools to develop my own voice. I am forever grateful. To Alex Bernard — who helped me make community culture a home for the misfits we collected along the way. I will always remember the day we formally adopted Natalie Zak and Dayton Hare as our own, and all the times I had to console writers after your edits. It was a privilege to work with you.

To the friends I made who graduated before I — particularly Paige Pfleger, Karen Hua, Catherine Sulpizio and Mimi Zak. I look up to each and every one of you more than you know, and I strive to achieve the levels of maturity and kindness you have all shown me over the years.

To Theisen, Caroline, Ben and Jacob — my fellow Arts editors who I’ve spent countless hours with over the past year, who have seen me at my worst and most delusional during production nights, but have also shared with me moments of the purest laughter known to man. We’ve gone from virtual strangers to siblings in spirit, and Theisen, I truly could not have done this without you. You have a beautiful life unfolding in front of you, and I can’t wait to see the success I know will come your way. Caro, living with you has been a blast. Let’s get sushi later, OK?

And to Anay and Natalie — it has been an absolute joy watching you two grow from new writers to our future MAEs. I have the utmost confidence in your abilities as leaders, and I’m so excited to see where you take Arts in the next year. And InDesign won’t bite, I promise.

As the curtain falls over my time at The Michigan Daily, I’m forever grateful for the memories I’ve made. There’s only one thing left to say — goodnight, and good luck.

Minh Doan, Senior Sports Editor

A week before Thanksgiving, I was sitting on a plane headed to New York City to cover the basketball team. I was flying in from an interview in Chicago and completely exhausted. Combining the interview and the need to finish all of my homework before Thanksgiving break, I probably averaged three hours of sleep a night that week.

About an hour later, I took a remote midterm from the backseat of an Uber that took me from NYC’s LaGuardia airport to Madison Square Garden. I finished my exam from the bowels of MSG, finishing just as Michigan’s game started.

As I dragged my tired body to my seat on media row, I wondered to myself if the whole week had been worth it. Flying to New York right after my interview, taking the remote exam, all of it.

Then I walked through the concourse and MSG opened up. I was in New York City, in one of the most historic sports arenas of all time, covering the Michigan basketball team.

So, you’re damn right it was worth it.

And that’s how I’d describe my time at the Daily: an exhausting, but worthwhile experience that I wouldn’t trade for the world.

It wasn’t easy both doing The Michigan Daily and majoring in engineering. There were a lot of nights with very little (or no) sleep, there were times when I had to cover late games knowing I had an exam the next morning and there were times when I had to rush out of early morning classes and straight to a press conference.

But without the Daily, I would’ve never been able to travel to Boston, New York City or Chicago, among other places, to cover sports events. I would never have been able to cover some of the most iconic sports figures at the University from Red Berenson to John Beilein to future NBA, MLS and NHL athletes.

Most importantly, though, I wouldn’t have formed some incredible friendships. I think that’s why I stuck around for so long — the people inside 420 Maynard. That’s what’s made it all worthwhile, and I am so incredibly thankful.

So now for some thank yous:

To Jason, Justin, Lev, Max, Greg, Alejandro, Shannon, Raj, Felds, Simon, Zach and everyone else that came before me: Thanks for showing me how much fun the Daily can be. I guess I turned out all right as a sports writer and editor and much of that is thanks to all of you. See you all on the other side of graduation!

To Max, Jacob, Kelly, Jake, Chloe, Brandon, Brad: We were a killer class, and we’re all are going to do incredible things one day. I can’t wait to spend the next chapter of my life finding out exactly what that is. Thanks for making my Daily experience as incredible as it has been.

To Kevin, Ted, Betelhem, Orion and the rest of the young’uns: The Daily is a special place. Cherish the moments you spend there and the people you spend your time with there.

To my family: Thanks for your unwavering support even when I was too tired to talk. Sorry I didn’t call as much as I should have. If it was only you that read my stories, I would’ve been completely OK with that.

To Red, John Beilein, the hockey and basketball teams and everyone else I’ve had a chance to cover: Thanks for putting up with me. It’s been a pleasure getting to tell your stories.

To my friends back home who still follow me on Twitter even though I only tweet about Michigan sports: Ya’ll are the real heroes.

And to The Michigan Daily itself: Thanks for giving me a phenomenal four-year experience. It’s been an incredible journey working at the best college newspaper sports section in the country, and while I still have one more semester of covering the basketball team, I’m sad that it is quickly coming to an end.

Jacob Gase, Senior Sports Editor

When Kelly and Max first got me to come to the Daily, I was too shy to even raise my hand in story meetings. I’ve always had trouble leaving my comfort zone, and I barely did anything my freshman year.

But I noticed the way the sports editors hung out and cracked jokes and played chair monkey, the way they teased Jake and the other freshmen and most importantly, the way they remembered my name and made me feel part of something even though I had written, like, five stories.

Even then, that was a community I felt glad to be associated with, and it made me want to do more.

It wasn’t always a picture-perfect family — while putting in so many hours working and competing with each other, we had our share of arguments, communication issues and regrettable decisions.

Still, I never forgot why I was here.

Sure, covering games alone brought me more amazing experiences than I ever dreamed of. For the rest of my life, I can tell stories about how I was on the sideline at Ohio Stadium the first time “The Game” went to overtime, or how I covered a basketball game from the press box at Madison Square Garden, or how I was right behind Michigan’s bench when Kam Chatman hit that 3-pointer that sent the beat to Brooklyn for the NCAA Tournament the next weekend.

But all those memories I made with the beat writers I worked with are just as fresh in my mind. Like that time the women’s basketball beat had nowhere to go in Hoffman Estates, Illinois, and ended up at a Chili’s. Or the time Simon inexplicably roasted FDR on the way to Big Ten Media Day and had the entire car in tears laughing. Or any of the basketball beat’s adventures in Indianapolis last March, which alone could fill an entire column.

So to all the beat writers that I’ve worked with — Brad, Minh, Kelly, Lev, Simon, Max and Jake — I love you guys.

If I have any advice to leave to the people who will carry this paper’s legacy long after we’re gone, it’s this: Remember that feeling that drew you to this newsroom, and take note of all those moments along the way that remind you why you stuck around in the first place.

And whenever you get the chance to work with younger writers, make sure they feel it, too.

Carolyn Gearig, 2014 Managing Design Editor, 2015 Special Projects Manager, Daily Photographer

I started thinking about this goodbye when I was a sophomore, at the end of the most exhilarating year of my life as managing design editor of the Daily. And here I am now, a senior, staring at my laptop the day after this was due, not sure what to say.

My friend Terra once wrote, “I have loved this organization just about as much as I have hated it,” and that’s all I can think about. I’ve failed exams because of this place and felt as if I had no friends outside of 420 Maynard, but I’ve also felt my heart beat out of my chest as I sat in the back of the newsroom at 8 a.m. on five hours of sleep, waiting for Schlissel to be announced as president. I jumped out of bed and ran to the Daily the morning after Halloween because Dave Brandon resigned, watched Mike Pence’s airplane land on tarmac four days before the election and took portraits of Jesse Jackson five minutes before class. I spent a year trying as hard as I could to make this organization more digital-focused and ran into challenges that made me doubt my own intelligence and my love for this place, so I left for a semester, but then I came back. And that’s the magic of this place: despite it all, I never stopped coming back.

I’ve made my best friends here, told important stories here, done real, tangible work that matters here. At the Daily, we don’t produce student work — we produce real journalism that has a real impact. We cover a ridiculous amount of news every day and run a huge operation while balancing school and our social lives and sometimes making it to Rick’s on the weekends. That’s special. The fact that we create this paper every day, and have been for 126 years, is hard to wrap my head around.

My experience here would be nothing without the people who have challenged me, pushed me to grow and become some of my most important friends. Peter — if I ever again have a boss as great as you, I’ll consider myself lucky. Amrutha and Alejandro — brunch soon? Gaby — thank you for everything. You’re my better half. Jen, Rachel, Michael and Allana — our one year anniversary is coming up. I love you all so much. Nick and Kristen — thank you for believing in me. Lara, Kaylla, Tori, Shane, Francesca — I am thankful for you all. Terra — your wisdom helped me put so much into perspective. And finally, to Austen — I’m so grateful for that one all-night conversation. I look forward to a lifetime of friendship.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be a part of something I love as much as I’ve loved the Daily. For that, I feel like the luckiest person in the world.

Shoham Geva, Editor in Chief

I joined the Daily on a whim, and for a while, I wasn’t sure what kept me coming back. I didn’t want to be a journalist, and I did want to sleep, and it seemed like given that, this all didn’t make a lot of sense.

At first, I thought it was the challenge. The Daily will push you and let you do more than you thought you ever could if you’re willing to try, and for me, that has led to a lot of special and formative experiences. But then I started spending more time here — over the past year, the most you can — and I realized it was much simpler.

I wanted to be here because of all the extra hours and nights and moments I’ve watched people spend to make something better (Anj, Jake, Max — forever impressed by those January nights and the ones since); every time I’ve watched a reporter sprint in, excited (Jackie, your enthusiasm continually reminds me why this matters); the nights I’ve found myself in the newsroom after production talking politics, playing euchre, or just lying on the newsroom floor laughing at stupid truth or dare questions (Thursday night crew, thank you).

I’m definitely not the first to conclude this, but I’m finishing here above all inspired by the people who come to the Daily night after night, no matter how hard the previous one, to do something so inconceivably bigger than ourselves. This place drove me to be better, and I’m going to be grateful for that for a long time.

Emma, Michael, Amabel, Emilie and Sam: you showed me the kind of impact the Daily can have, and taught me almost everything I know about editing. SNEd year, best year, always. Michael — we’re talking on the phone as I edit. I don’t want to know how much time we’ve spent doing that, but I am so glad the conversation started freshman year and hasn’t stopped. Allison, thank you for the chocolate and telling me I could do this, both three summers ago and this year.

To the 2016 managing editors: This year has exceeded pretty much all of my expectations, and it’s because of you. What you do every day is impressive enough, but I have consistently watched all of you go above and beyond, and that hasn’t gone unnoticed. Thank you for making my job easy, and being willing to try new things. I’m proud of what we’ve done — and what we’ve started — and I hope you all are too.

Laura and Emma, there is nobody else I’d want to spend five days a week with. Laura, thank you for the constant support, even when I didn’t know I needed it, and making pretty much everything you touched better. I can’t promise the 4 a.m. texts will stop, but hopefully neither of us will be awake then as often. Emma, thank you for pushing me and helping me figure out who I want to be both at the Daily and outside of it. I’m so glad you sent me one of the most ridiculous emails I’ve ever read three summers ago, and I’ve been so grateful to have you in the newsroom — and sending me emails — ever since.

Emma Kinery and Rebecca, good luck. I’m excited to see what you create.

Liz, Emma S., Meher and everyone else: Thank you for talking to me at 3 a.m. and generally making me feel like I was around five nights a week. Emma, I am forever appreciative for the two years of interviews you slept through. Mom and Dad, I’m looking forward to conversations that don’t start with “off the record.”

For everyone who has more time left here — people are going to warn you it will go really fast, and you’ll politely ignore them. That’s fine, you should, we’re washed up now. But when somebody asks you to stay at the Daily until 6:30 a.m. to watch the paper come — think about that, and say yes. And maybe play sad 2000s music at anybody who tries to leave (Sorry, Emma).

Sylvanna Gross, Daily Sports Writer

When my dad, a professional sportswriter, dropped me off freshman year, he said, “Join the school newspaper.”

It was late October by the time I first stepped into the Daily. Despite knowing I was headed for law, I had decided it was time to listen to my dad’s sage advice. Looking back, I never considered joining any other section besides sports because the only other part of a newspaper I had ever read was the comics, and I can’t draw.

I kept it a secret from my dad because I wanted to surprise him until I could send him a link to my first byline. I finally did and he sent back the best text I’ve ever received:

“I can’t stop smiling.”

And three years later, it’s me who can’t stop smiling. I’m still heading into law, but I wouldn’t give up my time at The Michigan Daily for anything. It’s hard to articulate without sounding like a sappy mess, but in true honesty I don’t think I’m prouder of anything I’ve done in my life than be a part of this staff. Not because my writing is exceptional, but because of how much I have learned.

I’m not done in the newsroom, yet, as I plan on working here next semester, too. But something won’t be the same. The wheels of power will have turned, and I’ll be sitting in a newsroom of the next generation of writers.

Just like it should be.

But what I know for sure is, is when I drop my own kids off at college, my own advice will also be, “Join the school newspaper.”

As far as “thank yous” …

To my first MSEs Greg and Alejandro for giving me my first stories. To Max and Jake for giving me even more. And to Max (and Jake again) for consistently being my favorite people to argue with over who would win Survivor, if New York pizza or Chicago pizza is better (New York), if you can call a pizza a ‘pie’ (you can), which is the original Coney (Coney Island), and which is the best city in the U.S. I can’t say how much I enjoyed working with you guys. I highly doubt I’ll ever have better “bosses” than you or have two role models who I respect more.

To Kevin and Betelhem, I’m so sad I won’t get to see you lead the section but have full faith you’ll do great. I’m so proud of you guys. Beat State News. Fill that Story List. Keep in Touch.

To Laney (#solaney) and Maggie (wine) and Ethan (banana laffy taffy is gross), you guys are a large reason why it’s so hard to say goodbye.  

To the senior and night editors (old and new), I can’t thank any of you enough for helping my writing get better and for engineering some of the best late-night conversations I’ll ever have. To Mike, especially, for all those rides home when I broke my ankle and to Kelly for being a wonderful woman role model in the section.

To everyone else I missed at the Daily, like Nate for being the best person to work on a beat with and to all the new writers. To Laura and Shoham and so many others.

To my boyfriend for making sure I got home safely every time I edited late at night and for being my #1 fan.

To my mom and sister. Words can’t begin to describe how thankful I am to you both for making me confident enough in myself to be who I am.

To my dad, well, every single article I’ve ever written has been a “thank you” to you.

Kelly Hall, Senior Sports Editor

When I was younger, I had problems pronouncing my R’s and my L’s (it was extremely problematic considering my name is Kelly Lynn Hall). If we’re being frank, no one but my mom and dad could understand me. I was placed in a speech pathology program in kindergarten that forced me to read out loud more than the average 5-year-old, if only to help improve my language skills.

Luckily, seven years of speech pathology would help me a great deal with communication, but it would also spark a love of writing and reading.

For the longest time, I wanted to be an author. Even though I lagged behind in speech skills, I knew that I could write. Whenever I felt like I couldn’t find the right words when talking out loud, I knew that I would be able to write down my thoughts in a much more expressive way. I still feel that way today.

My love for sports also started around the same age, when I joined a YMCA soccer team in kindergarten. I didn’t like football until a few years later, but after I discovered it, I spent every Sunday watching the Lions with my dad.

Thirteen years later, I was much better at speaking, but still quiet. I enjoyed sports even more, so I walked to a Daily mass meeting with Max and Jacob during September of my freshman year. Throughout the meeting, I thought about how fun it all sounded, but I wasn’t sure if I would be able to find the right words to ask the right questions.

Four years later, I’m still not great at finding the right words, but I’m much better than I used to be. And that’s not the only thing that the Daily has given me that I’m thankful for.

As I stood on the sidelines in double overtime of “The Game” in Columbus, I couldn’t help but think that it would be the best seat I’d ever have to a football game (also the closest I would ever be to LeBron James). I realized that I had the coolest campus job ever. I lost my breath thinking about how I wouldn’t be able to have very many more of those moments.

So, thanks for allowing me to share a sideline with LeBron.

Thanks for allowing me to be on beats with Simon, Lev, Justin, Jacob, Brad, Minh, Jake and Max, and introducing me to Zach, Emma and countless others.

Thanks for the scar at the base of my right hand that was sustained during the 2014 matchup with the State News. Thanks for the probable concussion and broken rib, too. #12Straight

Thanks for March 2016, which will remain as my favorite month of college, despite missing more than half of my classes. Kilroy’s strict policies, Lev and Simon’s antics and Kam Chatman’s shot that gave us a weekend in Brooklyn are to credit for that.

Thanks for the trip to Hoffman Estates where Allison, Brad, Jacob, Minh and I had way too much fun at a Chili’s.

Thanks for teaching me that I enjoy mentoring others.

Thanks for introducing me to the ray of sunshine that is Laney Byler.

Thanks for letting me pretend to play basketball with Simon, Lev and Jacob on the court of the Barclays Center.

Thanks for letting me throw a football under the lights in the Horseshoe.

Thanks for helping me find my words.

Alex Intner, Daily Arts Writer

When I first walked into The Michigan Daily, I was terrified. I was a freshman who had only been on campus for a month and didn’t know anyone on on the paper. As I was greeted by the Arts editors at the time, I had no idea what the next four years would bring. I had no idea what I wanted to do or what to expect from my new position on the paper.

Week-after-week, the TV beat and I would stand in the area outside the conference room, and almost every week I’d turn something in. The Daily gave me a way to turn my obsession with TV into something constructive.

But, it wasn’t until two years later, when I joined the web team and became the Summer Managing Arts Editor, that I spent more time at 420 Maynard and got to know more of the wonderful people around me. These brilliant, ridiculously talented people, both on arts and across the newsroom, pushed me to experiment in different forms of digital journalism and to write that random notebook on HBO or TV musicals, making me a better journalist in the process.

There are so many people to thank for making this place a home to me:

First, I want to thank my many editors over the years. Steven, Alec, Maddie, Chloe, Catherine, Karen, Ben, Matt, Christian, Lara and Karl, you each improved my writing and my confidence. Thanks for the countless reads and advice that I will take with me for the rest of my life.

To all the TV/New Media beat members I’ve known over the years, thank you for giving me a place to share my obsessive love of TV. I knew I could come to you with whatever happy, or angry, rants about what I was watching at the time. Whether it was recapping “Game of Thrones” with Chloe or sitting with you waiting for edits, you all made me think about TV (and life) in new ways, and I will always be thankful for that.

To the rest of the arts section: you all are brilliant writers who inspire me on a daily basis. Every Sunday, I’m surrounded by so much talent and so many people I love. It’s hard for me to put into words how much you mean to me.

To Summer 2016 staff, thanks for making production nights so much fun! Anay, what more can I say to you than I already have? Thanks for being my trusted right-hand-man for the summer, and such a good friend. There’s no one I’d rather write headlines or captions with. Lara, you’re amazing. Thank you for filling the newsroom with Florence and Bruce, making my production nights that much easier. Taylor, we both know what your favorite chair in the newsroom is. Never deny it.

I also want to give a shout out to the web team. Nivi, Bob and Dylan, you were so welcoming to me when I joined your ranks this year. You allowed me to try out new ideas, even if they would only be interesting to me. I’ve learned so much from you in the short time I’ve known you.

Over the course of my four years, the Daily transformed from a place I was scared to enter to one I’m scared to leave. Even though I’m not leaving town next year, I’m scared to even think about saying goodbye to this building, and these people. It’s crazy to me that, after next semester, I’m going to graduate, and will no longer be going to 420 Maynard every week. Being on the staff of the Daily has become so much of who I am, that it’s bizarre to think of who I’m going to be without it. I’m struggling to find the right words to describe how much the people I’ve met at the Daily means to me.

But, as I wrote that last paragraph, “Mr. Brightside” came up on shuffle. And, as I always do when I hear that song, I remember the nights where, at some point, members of the arts section danced like there was no tomorrow and belted along until our voices were hoarse. Those are among the moments from college that I’ll cherish most of all. The moments of pure joy, with people I love.

Danielle Jackson, Senior Copy Editor

My Copy family will entertain entire conversations on the capitalization of ‘liberal’ (thank you and I’m sorry, my wonderful copy chiefs, for that conversation) and whether to use a comma or an em-dash. We rejoice at eliminating the hyphen in email and bemoan each Oxford comma we remove. We eat so many Oreos. And there’s no other group of people on campus that I feel more myself around. Not only is Copy full of other people who know and love obscure grammar rules, but everyone is so vibrant and lovely. We can talk about grammar, but we can talk about our lives and our hardships and our victories and there will always be someone to empathize or commiserate or celebrate with you. They are genuinely amazing people that I am so grateful to have gotten a chance to know.

Originally, when I went to join Copy, my first test was lost. I’m so glad I emailed to see what happened, and so glad that I pursued joining, even though I was behind the curve. I jumped right into this eccentric group of people who already seemed so close that there would be no place for me, but somehow they made room, and now I can’t picture my life without them. As I get ready to leave the Daily and the University of Michigan, there are so many things I want to say, but that I don’t have the words for (there’s a reason I’m an editor and not a writer). So I’ll do my best, and I promise I’m more grateful than my words can ever express.

Thank you to Laura, for answering my “wait what happened” email and giving me a second first chance. Thank you to Alexis, for recommending Copy to me, for answering mountains of style and grammar questions and for being my oldest friend at Michigan. Thank you to Emily, for being patient and kind — after all, Copy is kind — and laughing with me about the absurdity of everything late into the night. Thank you to Taylor, who helped me catch up to the curve on being senior editor. There’s no one I’d rather (never actually) work with, and I look forward to another semester as copy chief with you. Thank you to Biz, for running for copy chief and taking this wild new step with me. Thank you to Emily F., for enduring odd conversations with me both at the Daily and beyond about everything from the Aggies to buildings named Madonna. Thank you to all the Copy cats, for being the best family I could have ever hoped for, but never knew I needed until I had you.

Emma Kerr, Managing News Editor

On weeknights in Ann Arbor between the hours of 1 and 2 a.m., the man who owns a hot dog stand on Liberty Street closes it up and packs it away for the night, the line at Skeeps dwindles, people cluster in front of NYPD and a Coke truck sits on the corner of State Street and North University Avenue in front of Walgreens, blocking the entire right lane of traffic. All of the streetlights are off, just flashing yellow or red; I ride my bike, past all of this toward Kerrytown, right down the middle of the road, and I do it five nights a week at this time.

I began to realize the importance of my past year as managing news editor and the past three years at the Daily in these moments of quiet — looking out at the newsroom from my spot in the corner at the news desk or on my ride home after the bustle of production was over. Like a fly on the wall and with a step back from this place, the pace of my breath speeds up as the fullness of the joy and frustration and pain and relief has a chance to settle in.

For when I threw a basketball at your face and broke your glasses, for when I laughed with you on the floor of North Quad, for New York with you and D.C. with you and for when you let me cry at production every night for a month with complete empathy instead of anger, thank you, Shoham. You are a tireless editor, which is exhausting, but has undoubtedly made our news coverage reach new heights, and you are a peaceful problem-solver, which has been so important to the success of this publication.

After two years of knowing you, Laura, I still think you’re the kind of person I want to be when I grow up and also that the sound of your voice is both soothing and frighteningly emotionless. You are a food scavenger but I forgive you.

Though you have the honor of sleeping 10 feet from me, hearing me sneeze in my sleep as well as all night across from me at the news desk, you somehow still tolerate and (seem to) like me, so thank you, Jackie. I never feel more inspired than when I’m talking to you — your passion for writing and for this publication was always what reminded me why I do what I do. A few things you should know: Mike’s Hard is not juice, the night of the porch cigarettes was incomparably hilarious, I know you secretly harbor a hatred of my blender (I’m sorry for my blender) and whenever it rains in my dreams I wake up thinking of you.

And to Katie and Camy, god bless you both for your constant positivity. I am grateful for that and for all the work you’ve done this semester that was well beyond expectations, as well as for all the times you both stepped up when no one else would have.

Some of us have joked about what we’re going to steal from the newsroom on our last night, and Jake, if I was going to take one thing, unsurprisingly, it’d be one of your baseballs (sorry). Thank you for making my day every day.

Whether I was bundled up in a parking structure at midnight, squeezed into a booth at Pizza House, dancing next to a strobe light and a furnace in somebody’s basement or having carrots and popsicles in the front yard, SNEd year will always have been the most magical and special time of my college existance. I love how ridiculously weird it feels to know that all of you have watched me grow up and basically go through some of the weirdest most intense experiences of my life to date, so thanks for being there for that and sticking around anyways Sam, Sugerman, Shoham, Emilie and Amabel.

Thank you to everyone in the Thursday Night Crew, you know who you are, and you are my Daily.

Thanks to everyone at the Daily, and thanks to everyone who came before me.

I love you Mom, Dad and Devin.

Francesca Kielb, Managing Design Editor

Thank you Shane Achenbach for making me feel comfortable in the newsroom when I started as B-Side design editor. Our late night burgers are what convinced me that I wanted to be MDE. I wouldn’t have done it without you. Thank you Carolyn Gearig for all our hours spent talking about fonts. You make me feel like my hatred of Whitney is both normal and rational. Thank you Michelle Phillips and Ava Weiner, your presence at the design desk brightens my night.

Thank you Claire Bryan for bringing your incredibly happy aura into the newsroom and my life. Thank you Shoham for the reminders and understanding texts when I am oblivious and forget critical pieces of information. You lead with such grace and kindness.

Finally, Anj. I’m not sure what I would have done without you. Your work ethic, attention to detail, and infectious positivity make you both the ideal coworker and friend. You maintain such a cool and calm composure while being the absolutely most productive human I’ve ever met. You inspire me and I can only imagine what amazing things you will achieve. Thank you to you all. I consider myself so lucky to have been in the newsroom this semester. It has changed me for the better.

Jake Lourim, Managing Sports Editor

I’ve never been good with endings, so this one — the last day of the best job I’ll ever have — is a tough one.

Like many people, I had a hard time writing this. Last week, Shoham told me to write about what this place means to me. The answer is that it means everything to me. It is where I enjoy being; it is what matters to me; it is who I am. I don’t have any words for that.

I have so many people to thank, and 700 words hardly seems like enough for any of them. I’ll never be able to express my gratitude for the countless people who have changed my life over the past four years.

Zach and Everett, the first thanks have to go to you — for the stories, the lessons and, of course, the Denny’s. To that senior class (Zach, Everett, Slov, Liz, Wass and Neal), thanks for being the best role models.

Greg, Alejandro, Alexa, Felds, Jeremy, Shannon and Rajat, you each left a legacy that we haven’t forgotten. To the seniors before me — Jason, Erin, Lev, Simon, Justin, Leland and Zach — thanks for your confidence in me.

To the younger kids — Kevin, Betelhem, Ted, Chris, Sylvanna, Maggie, Fahd, Katie, Anna, Mike, Orion, Laney, Avi, Paige, Ethan, Matthew, Cole, Hunter, Robert, Jordan, Max, Mark, Ben and so many more — know that I appreciate every minute you’ve given to this place. Thanks for helping me live my dream.

To my fellow seniors: We’ve had a heck of a run. Brandon, Nate and Chloe, I’ve been so lucky to know you every step of the way. Minh, I still don’t know how you did everything you did in college, but I’m so glad we worked together. Brad, those first days covering soccer were the best. Kelly and Jacob, it’s been a wild year in Jim Harbaugh’s circus, but it’s been a blast. I can’t wait for Miami.

To Laura, Emma and Shoham, thanks for everything you did to run this place for the past year. I’m so proud of all of the work we did, and you were at the center of all of it.

Laura, thanks for serving as the last line of defense, and thanks for joining the sports family.

Shoham, no one runs this place like you. Every day, I’m grateful for your steady guidance. Thanks for keeping us together.

Emma, your passion for this place is so clear in everything you do, and I’m so glad I got to share it with you. Thanks for making me smile.

To the Washtenaw Watchdawgz, thanks for welcoming me in and making last year such a fun one. To the 2016 group, thanks for the ice breakers, the games and the laughs. I definitely heard the rustle.

To the Thursday Night Crew, thanks for last week.

To the Maxes … where do I begin? The early-morning hours we spent after Sunday production just talking are the memories I hold dearest. You guys understood me better than anyone else, and there’s no one else with whom I would rather run the best college sports section in the country.

Max Bultman, without you, no day in the past four years would have been as memorable as it was. We had some weird Wednesdays, but all of the other days brought something new too, and I’ll miss them all tremendously. We were together for everything, from Tallahassee to Miami with so much in between. Thanks for standing with me, no matter what.

Max Cohen, sorry I never made it out to get drunk last semester, but if I had, there’s no one else with whom I would rather have done it. I’m certain I would not have made it through my first year as MSE without you. You’ve made me a better writer, a better editor and a better person, and I look up to you more than you know. Thanks for going through everything with me.

Emily, thanks for teaching me to have the best day possible. Harrison, thanks for being an inspiration to me every day.

Mom and Dad, none of this in the past four years would have meant anything if it wasn’t for you. You are my closest confidantes, my strongest mentors and my biggest role models. You were a shoulder to cry on in the tough times and a loving supporter during the good ones. Thanks for getting me here, and thanks for enjoying every step along the way with me.

And finally, to the Daily: You’ve given me everything you can give me, and it’s more than I ever could have dreamed. Since I stepped on campus, the only place I ever really wanted to be was here. I can’t count how many times I sat in here over the years and thought, “This is the coolest experience I can imagine.” I’ll miss it by far more than anything else about Michigan, but I’m taking a lot with me. Thanks for everything.

Alexis Nowicki, Copy Chief

I came to the Daily for edit board during the fall of my freshman year and was immediately terrified. I’m not sure why I chose the opinion section, but it probably had something to do with my having a lot of opinions and not a lot of friends who wanted to hear about them. From the second I stepped into the conference room, I felt intimidated. Intimidated by the perfect hair and hipness of Adrienne and Melanie, by the orange-haired graduate student who had loud but probably well-informed opinions, and by Derek Wolfe as he quietly sat in the corner and spoke up almost solely to tell people they were wrong about things. Most of all, I was intimidated by how smart everyone seemed. I didn’t know how to contribute to any of our discussions, so I sat there silently, wrote two viewpoints and one Leftside — which, believe it or not, was about basketball — and then stopped showing up.

As fate would have it, sophomore year I ended up living with Emma Sutherland, who picked up on my love for grammar and convinced me to join the copy desk. At first I felt weird coming back to the Daily, afraid that someone might remember me as the girl who sat silently in edit board texting her mom about the temperature of the room and the volume at which everybody was yelling. No one seemed to recognize me, though — except for Derek, whom I had texted while writing my Leftside for advice about how to make an em dash. (It’s true: Prior to college I had never heard of the em dash. It’s safe to say after two years at the copy desk my knowledge of dashes has solidified.)

The first article I edited at the copy desk was written by Barack Obama. It was an op-ed for the Daily about education, and I remember Hannah Bates’ exact words when I asked if I should edit it: “don’t change a thing.” Of course I obeyed, leaving a single copy note and texting each of my parents that I had just edited an article written by Obama. I noticed from that first day that there was something about the copy desk that made me feel at home. These are my people, I remember thinking as I glanced around the room at the relative chaos of the other sections. I had no conception of how much time I’d be spending at the copy desk over the course of the next two years — of the sense of order it would bring to my life, or the feeling of community that I’d so deeply craved.

Copy editors are of a particular breed. It takes a certain type of person to sincerely care about the difference between an en dash and an em dash, to dig through entire databases to locate a single fact, or to willingly edit a stream of articles about deer culls and dioxane plumes. When you put a group of these people together at one desk, there is a spirit of mutual understanding — one that goes beyond the rules of grammar and AP Style. What I’ve learned in my years at the copy desk is that just because someone “doesn’t write” doesn’t mean they don’t have things to say.

I haven’t fully comprehended that I’m leaving, but all I can hope is that someday I’ll find another oddly shaped table where I can sit down, plug in my laptop and think, these are my people.

Maria Robins-Somerville, Daily Arts Writer

I joined the Daily as an awkward tween. By that, I mean I started on Arts as a junior with no journalism experience at all. I was using the oxford comma liberally and writing a lot of poetry (I’ll confess that still use the oxford comma in secret and still write a lot of poetry).

To CC editors Alex, Kathleen and Caroline, thank you for guiding me into the world of Daily Arts and helping me “lighten my prose” as a professor may or may not have told me to. Thank you for all the creative freedom and for sweetening Sundays in the conference room. Special shout out to Natalie for our chain of roller coaster emails that will for sure go down in history as the most angsty and desperate pursuit of interviews ever. Shev, thank you for being my spunky and spiritual daughter of CC.

Thank you Michigan Daily for letting me fulfill my childhood dreams of publically proclaiming my love for Avril Lavigne’s early discography and interviewing a “Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants” star. Thank you for letting me get gushy on poetry and “Broad City.” Thank you for giving me the space to talk bookstores and my brother.

To Lara, even though I love telling people that we met in Spanish class and not at the Daily, you were instrumental in my transition from awkward tween to slightly less awkward teen of the newsroom. You are going to do big things. I hate using cliché sayings like this so you must know I mean it.

Alexis, my work spouse, my copy editor of life and language until I bite the dust.

Toni, you are a queen and I thank you always for your loyal friendship and ceaseless devotion to the betterment of the world. You and Demario have led MiC with such power and grace. I am in awe of the work you do every day.

And even though I don’t let them edit me when I probably should, they still share my articles on Facebook and Twitter. The biggest thank you goes out to my parents Max and Michele. Because of them, I have never known a world where writing was not essential to life. I have never known a life where art was not work. If I am half the badass woman my mother is by her age, I will consider myself lucky. I attribute anything good in what I write 2 percent to hard work, and the other 98 percent to writing genes I inherited from these fools.

In a world that so often discredits art as work, to know that you want to write “for real” is a scary thing, and I am grateful that the I had the Daily to make it a little less so. Cheesy goodbyes make me nauseous so I am ending this abruptly with a simple #yasqueen

xo

Maria

Ben Rosenstock, Senior Arts Editor

I first applied to The Michigan Daily in September of 2013, my freshman year here. It seemed like the perfect thing for me. I desperately wanted a community to join; I had some friends in honors who lived near me in West Quad, but I sought a real community of people who were like me, who watched too much TV and movies and listened to too much music and read too many books and obsessed over pop culture.

I did not get in. I was crushed.

So I waited another year and applied again in the fall of my sophomore year. This time, I set my expectations lower. I knew now that it wasn’t as easy as I thought it’d be. Hopefully, my lower expectations would result in a reversal of fate and I’d get in when I least expected to.

Nope. I got rejected again.

I applied once more in the winter of my sophomore year. The first two times, I’d applied to the TV beat, but this time I applied to film, partly because I’d been watching a lot of movies lately, partly because I really wanted to rant about how much I hated “The Theory of Everything” and partly because I thought I might have more luck applying to a different beat. Sure enough, I got in. A few months later, I slithered my way into the TV beat like I’d originally wanted, conniving my way to a senior arts editor position. It’s now my last week as the head of a beat that rejected me multiple times. Vengeance has never tasted so sweet.

When something takes up as much room in your life as the Daily does in mine, it’s hard to really know how to “sum it up.” If I do, everything just starts to sound cheesy, even if it’s true that the Daily made me a better writer, that I met my best friend there, that I learned a lot about myself and about what it meant to hold a position of authority. It’s easier, sometimes, to pick distinct images and remember what they mean to me.

Last August, my fellow senior arts editor Jacob Rich let me stay a week at his house, since there was a weird empty space between my leases. One night, as I was getting ready for bed, I spotted a DVD case containing “Dazed and Confused.” I don’t know why, but it made me think about how I took it all for granted: the structure that the Daily gave each week, how I had a home other than my own where I could hang out whenever I wanted, even drunk late at night, how almost all my friends there would likely know what I was talking about if I named an obscure TV show or underappreciated indie movie actor. I thought that that was all just a given, that I would always have people like that who understood almost everything I was talking about.

So this last semester at the Daily, I’ve made an effort to not take it for granted. Almost every night I’ve worked, I’ve taken a moment to just look around and take a mental picture of what this was like: spinning ceiling fans, squeaking computer chairs, multiple computers playing music in the background, a distant TV playing ESPN, questions like “What’s the Daily style on ____?” and “Did you set the italics?” Fluorescent lights that seemed to seep past your eyes and into your brain if you were there too long. My own out-of-context quotes, posted up on a bulletin board. That one water bottle with a sliver of Fireball left in it, sitting on top of the fridge since, like, February.

These are the things I’ll remember when I’m gone: a microwaved Peep, a girl in a furry pink jacket smoking a joint on a Razor scooter, the taste of black cherry Four Loko, hooked arms and blue wigs and greasy pizza and unfinished crosswords.

I didn’t get in the first time. I didn’t get in the second. I’m glad I tried a third.

Laura Schinagle, Managing Editor

In January, I’ll return to Ann Arbor from Winter Break and probably go straight to my apartment. Part of me worries this will snap me out of this dream I have been living for the past two years, in which I step straight out of my ride from the airport into a building that seems to have been waiting just for me — complete with my family, sunflower seeds and plenty of important problems to be solved.

But to believe this dream will simply fade into the past would be to ignore the incredible privilege I will carry out of the Daily. I will exit 420 Maynard knowing that even if my family isn’t home, and even when my snack supply is gone, there exists a newsroom charged with 126 years of history that fills me with a sense of purpose.

There is no absolute definition of courage or truth or love, but the constant struggle to make meaning of those virtues is one in and of itself. 2016 managing editors, I am indebted to you for teaching me this lesson. The Daily is imperfect, and I have watched you wrestle tirelessly with its flaws. I admire your compassion and camaraderie.

I have miles of gratitude for all who led me here and all who kept me here.

Schinagles, thank you for instilling in me the values of reading and culture, and for being there to help edit my writing and my life. Thank you for giving me trust and independence while making sure I always have the means to capitalize on those gifts.  

Tom, Kelly, Mark, Meaghan, David, Mariam, Alisha, thanks for teaching me to be provacative and organized. I have a bad habit of shyness, and am sure I have missed out on a lot of potential connections because of it. I don’t know if I ever would have overcome that barrier at the Daily if it weren’t for you guys.

Hannah, thank you for diving into this whole thing with me. The responsibility of copy chief was terrifying in the beginning, but you were there to reassure me of my abilities and lift my confidence.

And to the rest of the 2015 managing editors, you taught me so much. Sam, you are my favorite dancer. You’re also my role model, which is definitely related. Derek, no one keeps me on my toes via Gchat better than you. Aarica, I trust you with my life. To the 2015 summer staff, it was a joy to grow alongside you. Alyssa, you kept me grounded that whole time.  

Claire and Regan, I’m eating peanut butter out of the jar as I write this. Thank you for embracing me no matter my state. You got me through some tough times and created some of my best. I am so fortunate to have you as friends.

Karl, you are so tall, in both stature and intellect.

Jackie, I laughed so much more on the nights you were around. I am excited to see what you go on to accomplish.

Emma Kerr, thanks for being such a trustworthy confidante. Sorry for poaching your snacks.

And Shoham, I have been staring into the newsroom for, like, half an hour trying to find some words to describe my thanks for you. Here’s what I got: You’re the best and I love you. I hope you get some sleep next semester.

Michael Schramm, Special Projects Manager

Sometimes I take for granted how much The Daily’s given me.

I joined the opinion section as a sophomore. Like many people, I wanted to be a “writer” — some artsy, creative vision of what I thought producing content was. As a columnist, I got to write whatever I wanted, and I loved it.

Yet as I spent more time at the daily, I learned more about the journalism industry. It became apparent that no one graduates and becomes a columnist, and I needed to switch gears. I sought other reporting opportunities outside the Daily. Those places are where I improved my reporting, writing and journalism. And as I spent more time there, I spent less time at the Daily.

This gave me a nontraditional relationship with the organization: it wasn’t my everything; it was secondary to other obligations. Every year, I see a handful of staffers have this relationship. It certainly has its advantage, though I think it has a con: you don’t appreciate the Daily as much.

Because every opportunity I’ve gotten flows back to this organization. My USA TODAY College hire was certainly related to my Daily work. Internships and freelance work came either through the Daily or through other experiences I got because I first worked for the Daily.

That’s why this organization is so critical: Students that get a big media break start here. And when I think about my career 20 years from now — when I’ll finally be an op-ed or creative writer — I’ll thank the Daily. I’ll thank it for catalyzing my fantasy into a tangible plan.

***

But that’s not all I’ll thank the Daily for.

As anyone working here knows, the paper’s only part of what makes this organization great. The other part’s the people. They’re meaningful beyond belief.

Adrienne, thanks for speaking to me on the first day I joined opinion. I was really nervous, but your kindness helped me come back. You probably don’t remember me, but I’m glad I remember you. I hope I helped someone come back too.

Emma Kerr, we’re the best friendship that nobody knows about. I’m glad our Daily paths continuously wound back to each other.

And finally, to four special people, who have come together to form a five-person newsletter, group chat and social media account. You’re less like friends and more like family.

Jen: How are you so talented and so good hearted? How? I ask myself that constantly. You’re an inspiration to the people around you, and you’re someone I always know is in my corner. Even when we get into a 15-minute Rick’s fight.

Rachel: I’ve never been such a bumbling idiot than when I’m in your presence. I’ve also never laughed so relentlessly. Thanks for pulling me aside one day and saying you think my Twitter is lit.

Allana: Your spirit is so sweet and so kind. It’s like your heart oozes goodness. Everything about you is so good, and everyone sees it. I hope you see yourself the way others see you.

Carolyn: Every day I see you making the world a better place. And every day you make me want to make the world a better place. Thanks for that, and also for being as great to your friends as you are to the world.

Even as I’m writing this last paragraph, I feel like I haven’t done you four justice. Because when we’re all in the group text, like really in it — laying in bed one night and just texting each other — it feels like we’re five feet away. I can hear you chuckle, the intonations of your voices. I can see your mannerisms. We’re all in sync. I think about how we’re so far apart. That just doesn’t make sense. Not even the cosmos could separate us. I start typing. My heart feels warm and fuzzy. My fingers keep typing.

They’ll always keep typing.

Michael Sugerman, 2015 Senior News Editor

I applied to join The Michigan Daily before my first semester of classes even started freshman year. I had loved working for my high school’s newspaper, was interested in making a career out of journalism, and was looking for ways to make an undergrad population roughly 26 times the size of my high school’s feel smaller the second I arrived on campus.

The Daily was the first place that really felt like “home” in Ann Arbor, and my fellow Daily freshmen became people who felt like “family” when I was thousands of miles away from the real iterations of both.

It meant so much to walk into the Student Publications Building and feel like I belonged. I went there even when I didn’t have a story to write, just because it was an intoxicating cocktail of intimidating, inspiring, exciting and satisfying to be in a place with people who shared my passion for journalism so much that they sacrificed their evenings and early mornings to make a newspaper.

I went on to win a paper plate award for “Most Likely to Die at the Daily” at the end of my freshman year. It freaked my mom out, but it filled me with pride.

This experience has been a roller coaster. Some of my best moments at the University of Michigan were fueled by the Daily. It was also a place at which I sometimes struggled to strike a healthy balance — between academics and extracurriculars, between “friend” and “boss,” between “student publication” and “job.” In conversations with other friends on this paper, I know that these are quandaries we have all had to face and overcome. But we did it together, and I’m grateful for that.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t briefly acknowledge four people in particular — the talented group with whom I shared the title of Senior News Editor throughout 2015.

Amabel: The comedy of our shared disdain for the 20 minutes spent lollygagging post-page-read and the subsequent car rides home remain highlights of my time as a Senior News Editor. I’d say you always have a place to stay when you visit Los Angeles, but I know the Wilshire Motel is far preferable.

Emma: I’ll never forget our version of the “Shot Heard ’Round the World” (shouts out to Jamba Juice). Thanks for finding shared amusement in dribbling a basketball around the newsroom, and for talking through the existential crises of sophomore year with me.

Emilie: You’ve helped me learn to appreciate the small stuff, like substituting a meal for a bag of chocolate chips, choosing the right nail polish, or strategically playing the right Dierks Bentley song to fit the mood after 1 a.m. Eventually, we’ll learn to show up to group engagements on time. I promise.

Shoham: You were my first friend on the Daily — and one of my first at Michigan, period. I’ll never forget the month we each wrote 14 (127? 3,586?) stories to prove our chops. Ever since, you’ve kept me on my game, at the Daily and outside of it. First friends aren’t always the ones that last, and I’m so happy you have. The Daily is lucky to have had you as its Editor-In-Chief.

There are so many others to thank, countless inside jokes to be rehashed and memories to be shared, but attempting to cram those things into one goodbye could never do them justice. All I can say is that I’m so fortunate to carry these experiences with me, and to have shared them with such incredible people. It has been a pleasure to grow with you, and I look forward to seeing what we all become.

Lauren Theisen, Managing Arts Editor

I realized this week that I could land my dream job right after graduation, and still, it wouldn’t quite compare to my time at the Daily.

No matter where I work, I’m probably not going to cut out my articles and tape them on the wall, like Max and I did in our freshman-year dorm. I might not ever come back to my workplace after a party to blast music and yell things out a balcony.

And I definitely won’t ever experience a night like last Thursday, staying up all night laughing in a newsroom with my co-workers, essentially having a slumber party while we wait for our paper to get delivered and then rushing outside like it’s Christmas morning when it finally does.

At some point in the last few years, I started thinking of myself as a Daily staffer first and a student second. I got out of bed, looked at the day to come and thought about story meeting, not classes. My fellow writers and editors gave me life, energy, comfort, purpose. They gave me the freedom to be myself and then pushed me to be the best I can be.

I literally don’t have enough space to properly thank all the editors who helped make me a better person and writer, so I’m going to do the lame Oscar thing and list them all real fast: Kayla, Katie, Jackson, Erika, Giancarlo, John, Akshay, DePollo, Chloe, Mimi. I owe you such a huge debt and I was so lucky to work with you and you’re all so special I wish I could write 1,000 words on everyone.

Melina, Christian, and all the music writers: I don’t think I’ve had any greater thrill in the newsroom than just watching all of you grow week to week. Seeing you put your hearts and souls into articles and then having the privilege to publish them helped make sure that this job never felt like work. I’ve never stopped looking forward to the surprises and joys that each piece brought, and thank you for sharing them with all of us.

Jacob, thank you for the hugs. Caro, thank you for the -isms. Ben, thank you for never, ever missing an italic.

Rebecca, Anay and Natalie, thank you for all your commitment, your enthusiasm, your hustle, your ambition, your grand ideas and passionate perspectives. I’m so excited to see you improve on where we fell short and push this thing to new heights.

Shoham and Laura, thank you for being the perfect leaders. This class of editors is so powerful and cohesive thanks in large part to the fact that I think we’d all take a bullet for you.

And finally, Kathleen, I don’t think I would have taken a breath all year if you hadn’t been in this with me step for step. Thank you for keeping me sane and for being the person I trust the most in the place I love the most.

Wherever I go after the Daily, I’m going to try and bring the connections I made with me, and I’ll attempt to recreate the magical dynamic we all had. I’ll try to fall in with a group of creative, driven, intelligent people that functions in the beautiful way we all did. I’ll search for a building that feels like home the way 420 Maynard does. I’m going to be chasing the high I felt at the Daily for the rest of my life.

Brad Whipple, Daily Sports Writer

Well, this is it. This is the last thing I will ever write for the Michigan Daily. Shit, even writing that is surreal.

I had no journalism experience when I joined the Daily my freshman year. I was nervous as hell at my first meeting. I didn’t know anyone, I lacked serious confidence, I hadn’t been the greatest at communicating my ideas, and I was worried I wouldn’t find my place on campus. The Daily, though, thwarted all those fears. The Daily was my place on campus.

The Michigan Daily was the cornerstone of my college experience. It was somewhere I could always go when everything around me was going down the shitter. It’s always been that one building on campus that I could call home, that building where I can seek comfort, happiness, laughter and knowledge.

It was my sanctuary — a sanctuary where I could do meaningful work and forget about the stressors of my academic life.

Fifty years from now, I’m not going to remember attending lecture or working on a project. I’m going to remember the nights I devoted to the Daily: nights I stayed up until 4 a.m. writing a feature; nights I didn’t go out with my friends because I was waiting to interview a coach over the phone; nights I didn’t have time to study for a test because I had to cover an event; nights I just decided not to work on my assignments because I wanted to play chair monkey instead; nights I just can’t remember (thank you, Jeopardy); (four) nights I witnessed the pummeling of the State News in touch football; nights I wouldn’t trade for anything else.

But it wasn’t just the rewarding work or long, productive nights that made the Daily worthwhile. It was the people. I don’t have enough space to thank you all, but I’ll try my damned best.

Thank you managing sports editors: Everett and Zach, you whipped my freshman self into shape and forced me out of my comfort zone; Greg and Alejandro, you taught me that Pittsburgh’s mascot wasn’t the Tigers; Jake and both Max’s, you helped me emotionally be at the height of where I want to be.

Ben, Zach and Jason: thank you for making me feel instrumental to the baseball beat. Never stop caring about the scouts.

Kelly, Jacob and Minh: thank you for dealing with my bouts of slap-happiness, helping me with my tie, and making Hoffman Estates lit again.

Ted, Chris, Leland and Brandon: thank you for making my second round of #Dubhoops just as meaningful.

Sarah: thank you for helping me with every story I’ve written. You made my job so much easier.

KBA: thank you for teaching me how important the intangibles are. I’ll make sure to dive for every loose ball life throws my way.

Kevin: thank you for carrying on the legacy of Benedict Arnold. He is truly honored.

Lara: thank you for being an awesome EIC over the summer. We were a great pairing to run the Daily, and I couldn’t have done it without you.

Sugerman: thank you for making Econ 101 and 102 suck less.

Betelhem: thank you for somehow always editing on the same nights I did (we had a great streak) because you were great company. You’re a kick-ass writer and a great friend, and I have no doubt you and Kevin will do a great job as MSEs.

Mom, dad, Brittany, and Brian, and Lee: thank you for reading as many of my stories as you could and for showing interest in something I was finally passionate about.

Thank you, Michigan Daily.

#BeatStateNews.

Karl Williams, Statement Editor

I’d just like to thank my mom, whose love and dedication has allowed me to pursue my passions and achieve all that I have.

Andrew Zick, Senior Video Editor

I didn’t expect this to happen. I ended up in video by accident, just having the right friends (thank you Kaylla and Levin!) at the right time. Three years later I’m more than a little sad to leave this all behind. Watching video grow from a few dedicated staffers to a real section has been an incredible experience, one I’ll carry with me forever. And while I don’t know what will happen next, for video and for The Daily, I know I’ll be watching.