Thirteen months ago I wrote a forum post titled "Editor in Chief." I had just been named Editor in Chief of The State Hornet newspaper, and I had a lot ahead of me. From that post: "I, the person who hates to make decisions, will be forced to make a LOT of decisions in the coming weeks. I'm currently a bit overwhelmed, but I'm also very excited. I imagine I will get extremely stressed out at times, and I'm sure I'll occasionally want to strangle reporters and editors, but it's also going to be an amazing learning experience."

I really had no idea how very true those words would really become. Yes, I had to make a lot of decisions in the coming weeks -- all 57 of them. Yes, I got extremely stressed out at times, and I certainly wanted to strangle reporters and editors from time to time. Yes, I also learned a lot.

So, in a sense, my predictions were true. I look back over the past year, and I've changed a great deal -- in good ways and bad. I experienced so many things I never imagined, and I made new friends along the way. I'd like to leave it at that, but I've also made enemies. We battled the administration over control of the newspaper, we reported on a dangerous intersection until the University changed it, we called for the University president to retire, and we were protested against and threatened after we reported on a mismanagement of funds.

In the meantime, I had to deal with writers who flaked out, and two section editors needed "dealing with" to the point of extreme unpleasantness. Our business manager retired after 32 years, and things became harder, especially since she still has not been replaced (we have to follow the University's bureaucratic hiring process). When our University-supplied tech support suddenly quit, I was left to ponder a network of 23 Macintosh computers. The list of other things could go on and on, but I digress.

Twenty-nine issues and one year later, my tenure as Editor in Chief is drawing to a close. Our last issue of the paper hit the stands yesterday, and our end-of-the-semester awards party is tomorrow. In two weeks I will start a new job and leave this one behind. I've begun cleaning out my office, and soon my name plate will be packed away in a box for me to stumble across years later. At our last general staff meeting yesterday, one of the faculty advisers asked me to say, in no more than a paragraph, what I'd learned over the past year. It wasn't hard for me to come up with something: "I've grown a tougher skin."

It's true. I've gone through more life-changing events in the past year (both Hornet-induced and non-Hornet-induced) than I have in any other year of my life. I've been ridiculed, praised, scorned, congratulated and challenged. I've been devestated and crushed to the point where I thought I could not go on, but I did. A year later, things don't bother me as much as they once did. I've never had a problem laughing at myself, but working in a profession that is hated by much of the world has made me laugh more at others, too. I think it's sad that journalists are so despised, but I'm learning to accept it. As long as I work in the industry, people will attack me for the words I write and the publications for which I work. It still hurts when people hate me, but it doesn't sting quite as much as it did a year ago.

At the end of the staff meeting, I stood up and made a spur-of-the-moment, unplanned farewell speech, so that I could formally say good bye to those who won't be at the awards party tomorrow. I hadn't even though about it, because it hasn't all sunk in yet. As I stood up in front of the reporters, photographers and editors, it didn't seem real. I still can't quite believe that I won't be racing around next Monday, trying to fix problems and get the newspaper finished. And I won't be back next fall, either. I thanked those staff members for their work and their dedication, and it's my honest belief that we have been able to make a bit of a difference on campus. As the only official student voice on campus, we tried our best and worked our hardest. We learned and grew, made mistakes and broke big stories.

Am I sad to leave? Yes, I am, though it would be a lie for me to say that I'm not also relieved. I've been through a lot of stress, and the last four weeks nearly killed me. I've learned so many things, but one thing has really been driven home in those four weeks. I may be a journalist with the noble goals of being objective and unbiased, but there are times where my personal life and my work life will cross paths. This happened to me recently, and I realized that I'm still a human being with feelings. There will be times where I must pay attention to those feelings, and there will be times where I must choose between my personal life and my work life. Journalists are scrutinized and criticized more than most professionals, but they are still average people. I can't prevent others from judging me because I must occasionally step back and be a normal person with feelings. But if I don't do that, I'll lose my own identity, my mind and myself. Sometimes, though I hate the idea, it's not worth sacrificing all that.

Ellmyruh