Some people think everything happens for a reason, but I have never believed in that. I would rather take the chaos of life one day at a time. I take pride in creating something out of nothing because the act of creation out of chaos is what we do, and to believe that something was predestined defeats the purpose of its creation all together. 

For the past three years, my daily chaos, which I’ve shared with some of my closest friends, has been The Battalion and I would not have had it any other way.

In the hierarchy of uncertainty, if there were ever such a thing, the existence of a weekly independent student-run print newspaper in the year 2023 would be chief among its rankings. Yet, for the past 130 years, students like me have taken on the self-appointed Sisyphean task of creating a print newspaper for the benefit of our peers.

It would be disingenuous not to acknowledge that defiance and spite have, at different points in time both past and present, powered this 130-year campaign, but when one digs deep enough, one finds that the true fuel of this journalistic fire is passion; a passion to serve one’s community with news for the students by the students.

If a church is defined by its congregation rather than its building, then The Battalion is not a fluorescent cave in the bowels of the Memorial Student Center, but rather a gaggle of dedicated journalists eagerly awaiting the next story.

 And what is a church service without a benediction?

Mom, Dad and Jackson, a newspaper long enough to stretch from here to Plainview could not contain all the lessons that each of you has taught me, each of which has been key in making me the person I am today. Thank you.

Douglas Pils, your continued dedication to The Battalion has not gone unnoticed. If The Batt truly were a church, you would be its patron saint. Thank you.

Caroline Wilburn, you have not only been a diligent and committed news editor but also my best friend. The newsroom is always a brighter place with you in it. Thank you.

Michaela Rush, you have held an editor-in-chief burden heavier than most with resolve. It has been great serving The Batt with you. Thank you.

To the rest of The Batt staff, both past and present, I wish there were enough space to name and thank each of you, but this is a newspaper, not a thank you letter so I will give you the same advice that I received at my first print production: Communicate often, learn from your mistakes and, most importantly, make deadline.

And to all the future editors, writers and photographers of The Batt, who will continue this tradition as our memories slowly become confined only to the names and photos on the walls, I leave you this quote from one of my favorite authors — who just happens to have had a short stent as a journalist — Kurt Vonnegut.

“The point is to write as much as you know as quickly as possible.”