I’ve written many letters this year about how The Daily Cardinal is an institution with a 120-year tradition of excellence in student journalism. While that is true, focusing only on this enduring tradition excludes what I will miss the very most as I leave behind my big red chair in the Cardinal office.
Yes, the Cardinal is a living school of journalism. Yes, this newspaper has a rich history of fine news coverage through depression, protest and war. Yes, I can list off the 18 Pulitzer Prizes won by former Cardinalistas. But let’s not lose sight of what truly defines this paper: We are students.
Our daily production of a 10,000 circulation newspaper may mask our true identity, but we are students. We are often making up the rules as we go. Sometimes we get it right. Sometimes we get it wrong. And we deal with both as the young people we are. We cheer. We yell. We cry. And, of course, we drink.
Next semester I will be working for a U.S. Senate campaign in Minnesota. While I will miss the news scoops and journalistic integrity of the Cardinal, what I will miss most is the youthful passion and goofiness that our staff express everyday. The unrelenting and mostly witty banter in the office. Shotgunning beers over copies of The Badger Herald. Throwing eggs at the State editor. Dancing on office tables to Kanye West’s “Monster” when the chancellor declares a snow day. And teaching a freshman not just how to write a snappy lead, but also how to excel in flip cup.
It’s not all fun and games. Putting out a daily newspaper is hard work and when things go wrong, we try to handle it like mature adults. But we also understand each other when we don’t.
Here’s an example of what I mean. When some conservative blogs noticed the term “public masturbation” in a Cardinal article about Occupy Madison in late October, the story went viral, and it was twisted disgustingly. My e-mail was flooded, my voicemail was full, the mayor was on the phone, and there was an online petition calling for the resignation of the editor in chief (me!). I felt like I was on the verge of insanity. Maybe I was closer than the verge. I wore a full-body tiger suit to all my classes the next day. Yes, it was Halloween. But I was the only person in costume. One sad tiger carrying her tail.
When I got to the Cardinal office later in the day, I started to cry. I stood in the middle of the office with tears ruining the carefullydrawn whiskers on my cheeks. Slowly, I began thrusting my hips with my arms jutting out at my sides, dancing and sobbing my way around the room. At that moment, more than my whiskers could have been in ruin. But not at the Cardinal. As the staff noticed my precarious mental state, our managing editor said with a compassionate laugh, “You need to go home. The Cardinal broke you today.” In no condition to argue, I took his advice, went home and watched the St. Bernard-starring ’90s hit “Beethoven’s Third” while stuffing my face with chocolate.
Now I don’t know how the executive editor of The New York Times handles a crisis, but I will venture to guess that an animal costume is not involved. Nor is it likely that the NYT staff rallies in universal support and understanding. For that, you need to work at the Cardinal.
I’m not saying we don’t take ourselves seriously. We put our responsibility to inform the student body above all else. We are not afraid to push each other to do better, to challenge each other to think harder, to call each other out when we’ve made a mistake. But somehow we always manage to sort it out and be back cracking poop jokes by our 2 a.m. deadline.
As I leave the Cardinal staff to face the grown-up world, I know it is in good hands with next year’s management. Our incoming editor in chief, Scott Girard, has a clear vision for improving the Cardinal’s future and institutionalizing its past. Our incoming managing editor, Alex DiTullio, has a dogged work ethic accompanied by great news judgment. They will be a terrific duo.
So as I wave goodbye to this red birdie, I will miss the student energy of the newspaper. I will miss spending hours late into the night with the paper’s staff, whether the time is spent making a newspaper or baking post-party cookies. They are my family away from home.
And, I will miss you, the reader, whose loyalty keeps us in business and whose feedback makes us better.
If I mess up on the campaign trail next fall, I am sad to admit wearing a tiger suit is probably not in order. But, I will take solace in that there is a place where such behavior continues to be acceptable. As the Cardinal grows older each year, the staff does not.
