Rice: Signing off
When I was accepted to Central Michigan University in 2022, the big, mailed envelope came with a poster covered in the maroon and gold of CMU branding that simply said “Welcome home.”
Up until that point, what I knew about college or university experiences came from movies and TV shows (especially “Gilmore Girls”). So I went into college hoping, but not entirely believing, that I would find a community where I can support and be supported, find lifelong friendships and learn about myself.
I had all kinds of unrealistic expectations, and it wasn’t until I was about three semesters into working for Central Michigan Life that I looked up and realized every single one of them had been met and exceeded.
Professionally, I can now put on my resume that I have worked as a reporter and editor, that I learned all variety of hard and soft skills related to the journalism industry. There are career interests that I never would have considered, had I not been here at CM Life.
But the biggest change was the relationships built, the community shared and the love found.
The list of people who deserve my thanks (and more) would extend beyond the word count I have to work with, but there are a few people in particular who have shaped my experience so tremendously that I cannot say goodbye to this publication without mentioning them.
Kaia Zimmerman, it’s a miracle I was able to hold it together for the single semester I was here without you. Your humor and light made this space a home for me when I was settling in, and I’m looking forward to experiencing more of it after graduation.
Courtney Boyd, your resume impressed me when you first applied to work at CM Life, and I was not disappointed. Thank you for your quality journalism, charmingly blunt editing and for helping me survive the journalism capstone class. When we walk that stage at graduation and go our own ways in the world, know that you have a friend wherever I am.
Masha Smahliuk and I started at CM Life at the same time, working side-by-side for the last three years as reporters, editors and friends. Masha, your relentless work ethic will serve you well, but what I admire most about you is your heart.
The adversity you have experienced and continue to fight through would be enough to harden anyone’s heart, but you opened yours to me, to CM Life, and that is a strength I will forever appreciate. This newsroom is in good hands next year, and I don’t have to remind you to care for it in my absence— we love it much the same.
Regan Foster, your mentorship has been the hallmark of this experience. From plopping myself down in your office to chat most mornings to writing your phone number on my forearm in case I got arrested covering a political campaign event, I am eternally grateful to have had you in my corner for the last three years.
When you watch me walk the stage at graduation, please know that you have a friend in me, ready to return the favor. I love you.
The people in my personal life who have kept me sane through the (occasionally trying) task of reporting on the happenings of this university will receive my gratitude privately, but I cannot say goodbye without thanking the people I have thought about every day for the last six semesters: our readers.
Every day that I walk into my office, work on a story or plan questions for an interview I am thinking about you. Every good journalist does. I think about what you need to know and how we can provide it.
So thank you for reading this, for reading my reporting for the last three years and for providing a North Star— the reason all journalists do what we do. If you’ve been reading my editor’s notes in every print edition this academic year, you know that I love to give a little piece of advice based on recent lessons learned in my life and current events around the world.
Here’s one last reminder. It’s the same one I wrote at the end of the legacy notes I will pass on to Masha, the next editor-in-chief of CM Life:
Be thoughtful, kind and loving and you will not fail. In a world with hate to spare, love is a form of protest. Use it bravely.
