Exit Letter: Brianne Bids Goodbye

When I first stepped into Morrow 005, I had no idea what to expect. Coming from a high school journalism background, I thought I knew what it meant to work on a paper. But The Amherst Student turned out to be so much more than I ever imagined. It wasn’t just about writing stories, designing pages, or meeting deadlines — it was about being part of a community of people just as passionate and committed as I was, if not more.

I started out as a staff writer for Arts & Living, pouring my heart into passion pieces about my favorite artists and TV shows while also working as managing design editor. Those early days were a thrill. There’s nothing like seeing your work — your words, your ideas — come to life in print. But over time, my interests shifted. When I applied for the assistant arts & living editor position, I was excited about the opportunity to shape the section’s creative vision and support writers in telling compelling stories. However, over time, I came to realize that my passion for facilitating the words and guiding the creative process had diminished. What I truly loved was the infrastructure — the behind-the-scenes mechanics of how the paper came together.

So, when the chance to become events coordinator came up, I knew it was where I belonged. I wanted to help make The Student more than just a content-producing machine. I wanted to make it a real team, in every sense of the word, because that’s what we deserved. There’s something magical about over 20 students coming together to create something bigger than themselves. Even though we’re all here for different reasons, we’re united by a shared goal: Getting this paper published.

But as time went on, I started to feel like my heart just wasn’t in it anymore — it became harder to find that same spark I felt at the beginning. What’s kept me going, though, are the moments that made the newsroom feel like home. Like that time we surprised an editor with a birthday party on production night  — there was sparkling apple cider poured in plastic cups, a banner hung over a corner of the newsroom, and so much laughter. Or the farewell parties we threw for our seniors who stuck it out issue upon issue with us. And even beyond the newsroom, we always showed up for each other — whether it was cheering on a fellow editor in their a capella performance, supporting them at a poetry reading, or just being there when they needed someone. Those moments reminded me that this wasn’t just a club. Being part of The Amherst Student filled an essential gap in my life. It gave me a sense of belonging and purpose that I didn’t even realize I was missing.

I’ll never forget the look on my first-year roommates’ faces when I told them I wouldn’t be back until 4 a.m. on Wednesdays. “You’re crazy,” they said. My boyfriend’s reaction was different: “Are you even getting paid for this?” The answer was no, but that didn’t matter. It was never about the money. It was about the joy of seeing the finished paper come together and knowing every headline, every column inch, and every design choice was a collective effort. It was about the late nights filled with equal parts stress and laughter, troubleshooting last-minute design issues, or celebrating when we finally hit “send” to the printer. It was about the sense of purpose that came from creating something meaningful — a paper that reflects the voices and lives of our campus community.

I owe so much of my time here to the people who made it special. Lynn Lee ’23, one of our former editors-in-chiefs, set the bar so high with her tireless dedication and passion for this paper. She inspired me to give my all, to lead with the same energy and grace that she did. And Ethan Neuschwander ’25 — where do I even begin? Ethan has been my rock, my confidant, and my newsroom companion through it all. I don’t know what I would have done without him. From brainstorming ideas to sharing late-night snacks, he’s been there every step of the way.

Becoming managing design editor was one of the biggest honors of my time here. Redesigning the masthead in Spring 2022 was my way of leaving a small mark on this paper’s legacy. As events coordinator, hosting three formals, four Holiday Moose gift exchanges, and countless alumni events gave me a chance to bring our team closer together. I’ll always treasure the conversations with alumni who shared their journalism journeys and reminded us why this work matters. Those moments made me dream bigger and appreciate the impact of what we do.

This paper is more than just ink on a page. It’s a living, breathing testament to the power of collaboration, dedication, and the relationships we build along the way. Week after week, we create something tangible that captures the voices and stories of our campus.

As I step away, I’m leaving the design in the hands of four talented, creative, and dedicated individuals who I know will take this paper to even greater heights. I feel so lucky to have been part of this journey with all of you. Thank you for trusting me, challenging me, and inspiring me every step of the way.

This isn’t just a goodbye to a role or a title. It’s a heartfelt farewell to a community that has shaped me in ways I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life.