I could write the cliche, “These last four years were perfect,” but they were far from it.
During my four years at UF, I lived through both the hardest and most wonderful times of my life. I suffered through loss and learned more outside the lectures halls than I did inside. I became a different person, and there is beauty in that.
Two years ago, I hated journalism. I got involved with the Alligator as a contributing writer in Spring 2013 because I was trying to get articles published for extra credit in a required reporting class. I would write stories for school credit and just go through the motions — until I covered Dance Marathon at the end of that semester. There, I talked to a little boy named Zander who was born with a heart condition and was treated at UF Health Shands Hospital. He told me he has more friends in college than in Kindergarten because of DM at UF. I couldn’t wait to share his story. That was a defining moment in my college career, and I decided I wanted to start working at the paper and eventually be able to tell the world about superheroes like Zander.
Unlike most of the graduating Alligator staff, I’ve only been at the paper for three semesters. I don’t even study journalism. But thanks to the emotional, stressed out, sleep-deprived, passionate, crazy, beautiful people at the Alligator, I’ve fallen in love with it. All of it — spending more time at the office than I do in my own home, the insignificant pay, arguments about editorial decisions and ethics, the creepy opossums that greet me at the door at midnight, the shifts that often last until 1 a.m. when I have to be on campus at 7 a.m., the stress of breaking news and even the people who trash the paper as a “liberal piece of sh*t.”
I love those people. How boring would life be if everyone loved everything we published and our coverage never sparked discussion or debate?
I’m grateful for the Jimmy John’s delivery people who sometimes make five visits to the office in one night because there’s no time to leave for a dinner break. I’m grateful for Karma Cream being open until 1:30 in the morning because that chai tea runs through my bloodstream.
In this industry, the competition is fierce. The hours are long, late and often unpredictable.
The job takes over your life, and you end up surviving on endless caffeine and fast food. The pay sucks. As a copy editor, you have nightmares about fact errors and comma splices. Yes, I’m serious. It’s far from glamorous.
So, why the hell would anyone want to do it? To tell people’s stories that otherwise wouldn’t be heard. To inform people, hopefully in an unbiased way, of what’s happening in their communities and the world, so they can make educated decisions. To make a difference.
At the end of the day, it’s worth it.
Thanks for the memories.
[Eleni Kouvatsos is a graduating public relations senior and copy desk chief at the Alligator. A version of this column ran on page 7 on 4/22/2014 under the headline "Comma nightmares, caffeine and love: Copy desk chief says goodbye"]
