I ended my first-ever Misc piece with an excessively chipper, optimistic line aimed at unknown readers: “Give jazz a chance, and it will certainly be satisfying in return.” I do not know if anyone read this and gave jazz a chance. This does not even seem correct; nothing is satisfying just because you gave it a chance.
But, regardless of outcome, chances are a lovely opportunity. The Misc has granted me many: Guest Columnist, Columnist, Assistant Arts Editor, Arts Editor, Senior Editor, and, this semester Editor-in-Chief (EiC), to name them all. And to be sure, each was uniquely satisfying—their outcome was years worth of the most rewarding work I have done.
I cannot adequately thank everyone from my time on The Misc, whether it be those who guided me through each aforementioned step or anyone among the 60-plus names of Volume 163’s masthead. At the end of each semester, our last Editorial Board meeting is spent writing small messages of gratitude for other staff members. It is always from my heart, but maybe some of the less eloquent, solid writing I produce. In the process of workshopping this piece, I have often complained to others about attempting to communicate without a cloying approach, which, intuitively, the Senior Retrospective should possess; the genre demands it, even where I resist.
Still, I obviously need to show my appreciation for some names in particular and avoid lacing the genuinity with any humor or pomp. Ganesh, for training me and giving me a foot in the door; Jesse, for being my longtime collaborator and companion; Nick T. and Soren, for being my editors, housemates and pals; Jacques and Maryam, for their years of leadership and guidance; Clara, Lev and Nick V., for serving on the Executive Board alongside myself and being intensely thoughtful peers; Charlotte, for her care and exemplary writing; Carina, last but not least, for stepping into the role of EiC after I graduate this month—you have lit up our community this semester, and I look forward to the realization of your dedication to this paper.
Any success the paper had was the result of our team’s collective effort. I want to reiterate that I am immensely grateful to each and every contributor for making my life easier as a leader, whether by supporting me directly or highlighting areas for improvement. The dedication and feedback from everyone we worked with enabled The Misc to grow as an organization and held us accountable to the highest possible standards.
It is a bit of a truism to say that the more you put into something, the more you will get out of it. With hours and hours of weekly EiC work this semester in mind, though, I cannot conjure up a better way to summarily phrase this thought. Across these four years, The Misc has only grown in personal prominence as a second home.
Our office manages to exacerbate the emotional intensity of any stress, joy, fear, humor or assistance offered in odd confines. I feel semi-sentimental writing this but, in many of the semester’s closing moments, it has not truly registered that this inescapable part of my routine will soon be gone. The potent emotion largely resides in all those numerous past moments themselves, not the reflective aftermath.
One story, since that is what we do here: Oftentimes in late evenings—after production nights and a quick library session writing my thesis—I would amble down the TH path, fumble for my keys and, in an annoyingly on-the-nose accident, attempt to enter my home with The Misc’s office key.
I am not sure if this “says” something about the work/life divide, or if it just means I lack some carabiner-related perceptiveness. But, it was the first thing that came to mind when I began writing this piece. It suffices to say that The Misc unlocks a certain drive, an eagerness for quality which stung whenever I could not deliver; the only way to respond was to prepare better or adjust. The good, bad and neutral follow you home as an Editor—I kept a list.
Even as it all remained intimately personal in terms of my connection to this work and team, though, The Misc taught me how to similarly get over myself, to accept the frustrations, corrections and situations that will inevitably arise, and to enjoy the satisfaction of leading a team that produces informative, powerful and much-needed coverage. In any area of life, you should nonetheless strive to do better afterwards.
Once my EiC responsibilities truly wrapped up, the inertia propelling me for months seemed to fizzle out entirely—that is probably just how relaxing is supposed to feel. Life without The Misc, in two separate directions, will be harder and easier. The emotions will eventually hit.
I want to close with another related story I often tell: In elementary school, I was angered by grammar tests. In middle school, I hated essay writing. In high school, I planned on being a biologist. This is not to say The Misc alone made me a writer—or even a good one, if you are reading this with disinterest. And, even if there is a partial truth to it, I refuse to admit that anything helped me find my voice, because I am not entirely sure what my writing style is.
Rather, I can say The Misc was an irreplaceable institution throughout my college life. It shaped the trajectory of my time at Vassar and my desire to continue pursuing arts journalism afterwards. It granted me the awareness of how personally lucky I am to write when other journalists are at-risk domestically and abroad for their work. I have not done enough, but I hope that I have at least furnished The Misc to serve as a community outlet and resource needed by many. Bare minimum, I am optimistic it will continue to find a similar place—small or large—in the lives of others; maybe they’ll give jazz a chance.