Writing ledes is my favorite part of journalism. They can be beautiful or funny or break your heart. They can be anything you want.

I’ve thought about writing the lede to my 30 column probably at least once a month since learning about them. I’m sure I have a few drafts saved somewhere, but now that it’s actually time to write this thing, I can’t think of a lede at all. I just keep thinking about how many people I’m going to miss.

So here goes.

Brooke, you took care of me when I didn’t know how to take care of myself. I’ll never ever think of Dunkin’ donuts without thinking of you.

Noah, thanks for answering every dumb film question I had when I edited your stories. They were always 5 very obscure references out of 5.

Aisling, you are the reason I loved being an editor. You pushed me harder than I thought possible, and I’m so much better for it. Thank you.

Amna and Barb, not being able to walk over to your desks this year killed me. I miss you both so much.

Ellie, Forrest and Catherine, thank you for showing me what a good leader should look like. I looked up to you all more than you know.

Lisa, I could not have survived February 2020 without you. I’m not sure how you took care of yourself, an entire newsroom and an overly needy life and arts editor, but I’m so grateful that you did.

Megan, when I was a freshman, I had no idea what I was doing. Most don’t. The difference is, I had you. You made me more critical and compassionate and a better journalist. I will never stop thanking you for it.

Christina, I’ll be honest and say I took a peek at your 30 before writing mine. You’re right, the March 12 paper was a blessing and a curse. I’m so thankful that we did it together.

Lauren, you did an impossible job this semester. And you did it so, so well. I hope you get to take a nap after this.

Dina, Annette and Britney, thanks for being my honorary staffers.

Emily, Ariana, Hal, Areeba, thanks for being a part of my team this semester. I don’t think any group chat I’ve ever been in has been more aptly named than our “expired brain cells” management chat.

Areeba, I still remember the first conversation we ever had about the Texan (really on brand that it was in the middle of the night when we were supposed to be doing homework). You are the most selfless person I know and, respectfully, stop it. Be selfish. You’ve earned it.

Ariana, your friendship means more to me than I can ever say. The Texan has no idea how lucky it is to have a journalist as compassionate and hard working as you. Thanks for always coming with me to get coffee, making good playlists so I don’t have to and cutting my hair. I couldn’t have survived this semester (lol try year) without you.

To the staff, even though we weren’t in person, I hope you saw that the work you did this semester was important. I can’t wait to crash the next Texan party, whenever that is, and meet you all. In the meantime, please stick around. This place takes everything from you, but if you’re lucky, it’ll also introduce you to people that feel impossible to say goodbye to. They make it worth it.

-30-