Sarah Loman fondly remembers her time at The Northerner

For the past two years I’ve measured my time in newspaper deadlines. On Mondays the pages need to be laid out. Tuesdays are deadline nights. On Wednesdays the stories for the next two issues are handed out, and Thursdays are staff meeting days.

Now, as I’m designing the last issue of The Northerner that I’ll ever be the editor in chief for, I’m remembering. Remembering the rush that I felt the first time I saw my name in print, remembering getting my articles ripped apart in class by Mary Cupito, remembering the first time that I thought, “This is it. This is what I was meant to do.”

But for one of the first times in my life, I feel as though words have failed me. There’s so much that I would like to say that I’m not sure where to start. Many have remarked to me that I’ve been in a unique position these past few weeks, being able to break the Jacobsen story and “go out in a blaze of glory.” Though that certainly wasn’t my intent, it has been pretty amazing to use the knowledge that my poor instructors have been trying to drill into me for years now. I only hope that I’ve been able to make them proud.

I have no regrets about any actions that I’ve taken or mistakes made. They were all done in good conscience and have become learning experiences. I do however wonder if Gayle Brown, the adviser to The Northerner, rues the day she tapped me on the shoulder during Newswriting I and invited me to a student press convention in Nashville. That’s when I was sucked in.

The Northerner has given me some amazing opportunities over the years. Gayle sent C.J. Fryer (an ex-editor whom I miss terribly) and I to Washington D.C. last summer for a conference, and I’ve gone on numerous paid trips where I not only got to learn from professional journalists, but hang out with my friends as well. I’ve made some of my best memories, and some of my best friends, were made on those trips.

Will I miss it? Yeah, I’ll miss doing this. It’s in my blood by now. I knew I was in trouble over the winter break when I was making lists of story ideas after the second week. But in a way, it’ll be a huge relief too. I’ve even started wondering what it’ll be like not going somewhere where I’m expected to write an article with Guns ‘N Roses and The Beatles blaring simultaneously while someone screams out random AP Style questions.

A friend already suggested I come back for graduate school so I don’t have to find out.

I said no.

I love this paper, and I love this school, but it’ll be nice to make some money. Good luck to all of those who will remain here after me; I’ll still be reading. I love you all.

Rich Shivener: it’s “crazy” to miss out on Northerner experience

Ever since I started my stint with The Northerner, I’ve always called myself a guerilla journalist. I was just some dude who wanted to write; and I learned the hard way.

Just ask our features Amy Ehrnreiter (ahem), who used to tear apart everything I wrote. I don’t blame her