My name is not Tabitha: The Misc’s guide to transparency

To my fellow Vassar elite? Vassholes? Vass-classmates? Vassaridianites? To whatever it is we pretentiously call ourselves:


In case you didn’t know, classes are almost over. We’ve reached the point of the semester where students are crawling to a finish—that time of year when stress levels reach scary highs as everyone locks themselves up in the library, their bedrooms, their friends’ bedrooms and the bedrooms of their student fellows (who aren’t really their friends even though they pretend to be until about the day before Thanksgiving when they finally come to the realization that they don’t want to be friends with people who drink Crystal Palace out of necessity and have put actual effort into learning how to play a ukulele), under the guise of pounding out papers and cramming for exams. But we all know they’re just sending staged snapchats (nobody needs or owns that many syllabuses) and watching that recent Sharkeisha video on loop.

Logically, I thought this would be a perfect time to formally introduce myself to the VC community: Hello, my name is Tabitha and I’m taking…wait, no…my name is Christopher Gonzalez and I am the new Editor-in-Chief of The Miscellany News (if you stop what you’re doing, close your eyes and become one with your surroundings, breathe in the world around you and listen really, really closely, you might hear the sound of a lonely slow clap off in the distance…that’s probably the only person in my family I’ve yet to disappoint, no one).

To use YouTube sensation Shoenice’s word, I’m “basically” here to participate in what every member of this campus loves to talk about: transparency. People often wonder about what goes on behind the scenes of this here newspaper and rightfully so. Once a week a couple thousand printed issues of the paper make their way around the campus and people respond by either smiling in delight or rolling their eyes (my mommy tells me that everyone expresses their excitement differently; at least that’s what she used to say those times my family would leave the room whenever I tried to provide an answer other than “fine” to the age-old question,  “How was school?”).

But who actually produces the material? Who dedicates their time and mental state to the newspaper? Those students snoozing quietly in the backrow of your 9 a.m. Wednesday class? I mean, it is a possibility. (Sidebar: People actually take 9 a.m. classes, like they wake up early on purpose? Weird. Pretty sure my body can’t physically respond to the blaring of an alarm until at least 9:30 a.m., and even then it’s only reaction is to slap my phone onto the wall until the “snooze” button is hit.) Anyway, perhaps more important, what’s it like to actually be a part of this newspaper? Not just any college newspaper, but specifically the Misc.

Well…I mean, I guess it’s like being a part of any weekly college newspaper. So instead of answering that question, let me fill you in on what will happen next semester for any newcomers:

All students interested in starting off as reporters will reach out to us in any way possible. If you want to slip a letter or note written in maroon crayon underneath our door at 3 a.m., by all means, Crayola away. You could also choose a more direct method such as throwing pebbles, garbage, the odd brick or maybe even balled up old copies of the newspaper at any one the editors, yelling, “Pick me! Choose me! Let me make you happy!” which is extremely similar to something Juliet Roberts once said in a movie she starred in when she was still relevant, so maybe don’t. Honestly, if you really wanted to, I would accept a 6-pack of microbrews delivered directly to my door. I’m not saying you have to bribe me with beer, but I will not give you this job unless you do.

I expect that the more daring individuals out there, the ones who will risk it all for the name of journalistic integrity, who will leave no question unasked, no source untapped and who will, above all, dig down deep into the seething underbelly of Vassar College…they’ll probably just send an email expressing interest or something.

THEN, after those brave few step forward, we’ll blindfold them (with their consent of course!) and lead them down into the basement of Main. There, hidden in the dark passageways of Vassar’s past, will stand an altar surrounded by candles and other things that usually surround creepy altars. The new reporters (or the more technical “noobz”) will then be sworn in by chanting “Never an Oxford comma will I use” as they spill blood over our prized possessions: our two Pacemaker awards that Wikipedia tells me exists.

I joke, I joke. We do not condone or participate in hazing at The Miscellany News. Someone would have to write an article about it and that would just be awkward for everyone. Kind of like this ending.


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