Some things in life you just remember. Like it happened yesterday. But the moment means nothing until it means something.
Even two years ago, the E-board knew how passionate I was about The Stute. I remember exactly where I was sitting in The Stute office. I wasn’t even on the minorboard; I was a Layout Assistant who was just happy to be there. Eventually, the Editor-in-Chief (EIC) topic came up, and me being me, I had no idea how to navigate that conversation. I knew I wanted to be EIC, and so did the E-board, but somehow speaking about it out loud made me terribly uncomfortable. At the end of that conversation came a line that lodged itself in my brain, for no reason other than that it simply did: “Just when you finally figure it out, another E-board comes along.”
I get it. I feel it. It makes so much sense now.
This past week, I was riding a high. I was organized and unusually at peace. Picture this: I am at the SGA Presidential Election Debate, supporting some friends of mine. I submitted the newspaper an hour earlier than scheduled, my school assignments were completed, no exams, and I was simply free of any responsibilities.
Then, an hour into the debate, I received a text from a writer who was unhappy about the final edits made to their article. I rarely make noteworthy changes to articles, but this week was different — I felt final edits were necessary. Typically, when I do major edits, I have an extra set of eyes to review them in case there is something I may have missed. Unfortunately, no one was available to double-check this week, so I added the edits, reviewed the article four times, and submitted
When reviewing the writer’s feedback, I understood their concerns and double-checked with two other E-board members. We all agreed the edits were not incorrect, but I had overlooked a few sentences that should have been adjusted for consistency.
I spoke with the writer, we corrected the article, and I decided to also change the print issue. I have never called the printer post-submission, so this was a struggle in itself, but after reaching them, I resubmitted the pages I needed and closed my laptop. I smiled and began packing my things. But no, that was not the end. Just when the ground leveled, an earthquake hit.
I received a call from the printers.
At 5 p.m. earlier that day, I had finished reviewing all of the files and was ready to submit. I PDF’d the files, submitted them, shut my laptop, and went to dinner.
Turns out, I did not change the folder I was submitting files from. One tiny button, one little detail, changed everything. I had submitted the wrong week’s files, November 7. The printers had begun prepping the November 7 issue instead of the November 14 set to release the next morning. Normally, the printer catches these mistakes, but because I requested a page change, they only then realized something was wrong.
Let me tell you, Brad, the printing guy, and I both had a heart attack.
I am happy to say, the November 14 issue came out on schedule, though a bit of my pride went with it. I write this not just for the Stuters this week, but as a reminder to myself.
Every week brings its own struggle, and some I can control, others, not at all. I was so sure of myself this past week. And yet, almost ten months in, and I am still learning. I didn’t know how to contact the printers post-submission or how to handle certain niche situations with my writers until they happened. I’m sure there are still more things I can’t anticipate that will test me in this position.
This epiphany is something I can only assume every E-board member has gone through. This safe ground, this consistency I so badly crave, likely won’t be achieved. And if it does, my term will be over before I can recognize it. Lesson learned, onto the next.
