When I wrote my first letter from the editor, I was sitting at the desk of my childhood bedroom, a space I hadn’t done any serious work from since I had graduated from high school — until the pandemic sent me home.
Now, as I pen my very last letter, from my desk in Cavanaugh Hall, it seems almost impossible to fathom all the events — and the feelings they evoked — that separate the person I was then from the person I am now.
Back then I felt so uncertain about the future that laid ahead, and while I still have many questions about what’s to come, there is one thing I have absolutely no doubts about: the future of this magazine.
It has been one of the most immense privileges of my life to work alongside the staff of Scholastic, especially through such precarious times, and I have the utmost confidence in the next staff’s ability to continue producing high quality journalism, especially under the guidance of my talented successor, Genevieve Redsten.
For our final cover story of the semester, we chose to tackle a serious, and often silent, struggle on our campus: eating disorders. Just as with many other facets of our lives, COVID-19 has created new obstacles as well as silver linings for those struggling with eating issues, and we strove to understand them, as well as the general experience of struggling with an eating disorder on Notre Dame’s campus.
In this issue you’ll also find coverage on the shutdown of Zahm in the news section, a culture piece on anti-semitism awareness week and updates about men’s and women’s lacrosse in the sports section. For those in need of some extra buoyancy, you’re in luck. This issue features an extended humor section. You’ll be certain to get a kick out of reading about a reboot of “The Irish Bachelorette” or about the reasoning behind the Duncan Student Center’s eclectic playlist.
To be frank, writing these letters has always been the most anxiety-inducing part of this job for me. I felt an immense pressure to say something that was both relevant but also wise and engaging and feared I missed the mark. But as I sit here trying to wrap up one final time, I also know that I’m going to miss writing these letters. Because no longer writing them will indicate a time in which I am no longer contributing to Scholastic, a task that has defined the whole of my college career, and a part of what makes me, me.
But rather than agonizing about finding the perfect words to part with — because honestly, they likely don’t exist — I’m deciding to let the magazine speak for itself.
Enjoy the read. I know I will.