Late have I loved you

Joining Spectator was one of the best decisions I’ve made. About four years after I arrived on campus, it is one of the few aspects of my college experience that I don’t second-guess.

That’s not to say that my time on Spec was perfect—far from it. But it does mean that I have learned so, so much about this university, about the neighborhood, about challenges, and about resilience from a little office on the corner of 112th and Broadway. Spectator made me believe in myself and doubt myself hundreds of times. I am so very grateful for that.

It’s fair to say that I’ve spent some of my best and worst days in the Spectator office. I was definitely one of those crazed and caffeine-fueled Speccies that thought, “I am on Spectator, therefore I am.” I spent countless nights in the office. I knew the 110th Starbucks baristas. I ate way too many Westside cookies at 2 a.m. in an attempt to avoid V&T’s pizza. I put off class assignments to make newspaper deadlines. In retrospect, although I laugh about it, I don’t regret letting Spec define me. After all, Spectator is one of the main reasons why I ended up here.

Shortly after sending out a half-dozen applications to undergraduate journalism programs, I decided I didn’t want to spend four years studying one thing. I had collected dozens of issues of college dailies on campus tours. Two liberal arts schools were in the mix—NYU and Barnard. I visited campus, met with a Spec editor on the Steps, and that was that.

I entered Spectator as an overeager high school reporter with dreams of becoming a professional one. But once I got here, Spectator became much more than a career move. I fell in love with the organization, the buzz of the office, the hectic nights when we were fortunate or silly enough to believe that we were doing something that mattered. I met some of my closest friends (and my current roommate). On Spec, I found a home and a sense of meaning.

With a notebook in hand, I grew to better understand the neighborhood, the nitty-gritty of the Manhattanville project, the ins and outs of the Uniform Land Use Review Procedure, the role of community boards, the tediousness of the University Senate, and dozens of other obscure campus facts. Each time I reported a story, I appreciated my surroundings a bit more. I became even more grateful to be here.

My favorite memories are not the stories we broke, but the quirky things that made Spec more than a newspaper. I remember huddling around a white board strategizing Ahmadinejad coverage shortly after the story broke, as if we were a football team mapping out a game plan. I remember going to Tom’s for breakfast after a late night of laying out a supplement because by the time we got out, it was around 6 a.m. The intense snacks at e-board meetings. Bowling at Harlem Lanes with MB. Random Speccies dropping by on Thursday nights for no reason at all.

I went to the 110th Starbucks recently. The baristas were different. In the light of the afternoon, the place looked different, too. I no longer order a grande Americano right before closing time. I don’t run meetings or consider Sunday meeting day. This semester, I weaned myself off of a Spec addiction, turning my focus to an internship and a senior thesis, preparing to leave this place and begin my journalism career.

Still, I can’t help but be nostalgic. I have loved college. I have loved Spectator. The two have always been intertwined. The other night, when I was walking past Low Library on the way home with two bound volumes of Spectator issues in my arms, it began to sink in. After spending four years in Morningside Heights, after getting to know the quirks and dysfunctions of this campus I call home, I will walk away from it all, heading south to pursue the dreams I came here for. It is perhaps fitting that of all the events I’ve covered on campus, from the World Leaders Forums to Community Board 9 meetings, I will conclude my time on Columbia’s campus with Commencement—an event I have never covered before.

A year from now, I have no idea where I’ll be. Four years from now is anyone’s guess. But I do know that regardless of where I am, I will frequently return to memories of Spectator and be grateful for all the lessons that it taught me.

The author is a Barnard College senior majoring in political science. She was an associate news editor on the 131st associate board, city news editor on the 132nd managing board, and editor in chief on the 133rd corporate board.