Managing editor pours heart out for one last Texan story

Myah Taylor

In the future, when I recall the emotions The Daily Texan stirred in me, I predict “indifference” will never come to mind.

My experiences at this paper have inspired laughs and tears. Pride and frustration. Yet, even when I distanced myself from the Texan, I ached to return. This is my way of saying that, despite everything, I love this paper.

Thankfully, the Texan welcomed me back as its managing editor, a distinction I enjoyed because I had the opportunity to create the newsroom I’d always longed for. This fall was my favorite semester at the paper, thanks to the people around me.

Sanika, you have been the best partner in crime, sounding board and friend. Jenny, I hold our conversations and bonding moments close to my heart. Hannah, you lead with such confidence.

Rachael, it’s meant so much to me to connect over our experiences as Black women. Phoebe, your energy is infectious — you’ll be an excellent managing editor. Megan, I’m glad we returned to the basement together like old times. Jack, you’re a kind soul. I admire your compassion and hope you never put down a camera.

I can’t forget my sports pals. Matthew, you’re a joy to be around. Never stop enjoying life and finding your voice. Nathan, it’s been an honor watching you grow as a reporter and, more importantly, as a leader. I’m eager to see what awaits you. Carter, I wish you had been on staff this fall. Continue learning and asking questions. Kaitlyn, thanks for your intentionality. I’m proud of y’all.

To the rest of my leadership team and everyone I’ve worked with over the years — Brittany, Jason, Megan Menchaca, Stephen, Marcus, Daniela and more — thank you.

Now for a confession.

Often, I think people look at my title or what I’ve accomplished and see this put-together woman. Everything is not what it seems. I’m as chaotic as they come, and the reality is, loneliness has characterized a significant portion of my time at the Texan. Sometimes, the feeling became excruciating.

I remember quiet production nights. All the meetings where I was the only who looked like me. Mostly, I remember feeling somewhat out of step with my peers, a mystery to them.

The world often leads us to change ourselves for approval, so I want to celebrate the people who have accepted me as I am.

Ross, you always made me feel like I belonged, which meant so much to me. Irissa, you truly sought me out, poking through my shell. You never wrote a 30, so consider this your column, too.

Wills, thanks for being there when I needed a friend. I’m glad we had each other. Kirsten, you once told me to “write positively and not with possibility.” That’s just one way you’ve cared for me.

Peter, I can’t emphasize how thankful I am for you. I hope you know the impact you’ve had on me.

My dear friend Emily is an honorary member of the Texan. There’s little she doesn’t know about the operation. Her listening ear helped carry me through.

Mom, thanks for all the long phone calls and for sharing my stories. Dad, thanks for supporting my journalism aspirations and self expression.

Last, I’d like to thank God for sitting with me during the hard times. I’d be nowhere without His leading.

My time at this paper wasn’t perfect, but I can say I’ve given it my all. I leave the Texan a better woman. More confident. More compassionate. More of who I want to be.

What’s not to love about that?