I’m Glad I Listened: Reflections on Three Years at The Commentator
The person who I was when I walked onto the campus of Stern College the first time is not the same person I am now, upon leaving. A large part of that has to do with the activities I involved myself in — The Commentator being a primary one. It is surprising to think how deeply a newspaper could impact my life, but it truly has been a very meaningful experience.
The Commentator has changed the way I see things and has made me a more critical thinker. Encountering all that comes with editing our special paper — the good, the bad and the ugly — has reframed my concept of creative writing and public discourse. In sum, I feel gifted to have been given the opportunity to have a window into the thoughts and minds of my peers.
I am grateful for the way The Commentator forced me to read and edit articles I disagree with and come to terms with opinions that differ from mine. Writing for the newspaper encouraged me to sit with all types of people in the Stern caf. I have found that I have something to learn from everyone.
Most of all, I appreciate the stories the staff and I were able to tell and people I was able to meet. The Commentator has enriched my life in so many ways.
The thought of assisting in managing a paper sounded very daunting at first. Like any editor, I felt an immense responsibility to ensure that articles in many ways represent our school and our students.
Nonetheless, The Commentator taught me to not worry about every small detail. To quote our editor-in-chief, Sruli Friedman, “Things have a way of working themselves out.” There is a saying in Yiddish, “Der mensch tracht un Gott lacht” (a man plans and God laughs), which on face value invokes a sense of helplessness. Though, if looked at from a different perspective, this phrase can be comforting. There is a reason why things in life don’t go as planned. What would life really be like when everything turns out exactly the way we expected?
Furthermore, I came to terms with the fact that being uncomfortable is often a good thing. When one is uncomfortable with something, they may dwell on it and try to resolve the dissonance. That means they are being curious and asking questions, which is at the heart of humanity (and journalism too).
I am grateful for and humbled by the accomplishments of The Commentator staff and writers who simply used their voices, and did so with great effect. To my end, I wrote an article expressing discontent at the current state of sharing the Stern campus with the Katz Graduate School in a way I perceived to be deleterious. I said those words because I believed the administration would listen.
I encourage students to make their voices heard because there are many people here who want to hear them. The only way to do so is by voicing our opinions and not remaining indifferent to what occurs around us. It is up to us. Being pareve is boring. I encourage everyone to think critically about what they see and hear.
Many times, when I approach students with article topics, I hear in response “I’m not good at writing” or “I don’t know how to write it.” Being forced to cover the sometimes uncomfortable issues that arise in school taught me an important lesson: Almost anything can be said. It’s about the way you say it.
When I invite people to write, I tell them that in a small way, they are writing history. In most issues of The Commentator, we pull up an archive of articles from years ago — even one since 1935. Who knows, maybe one day, that article from the archive will be yours.
Although I am not quite graduating yet, I want to express my deepest gratitude to Stern College for Women. It is here that I uncovered a great passion for science, particularly cellular and molecular biology, where I was inspired to appreciate the complexities of our world by understanding them as acts of of G-dly creation.
Most of all, I would like to thank all the staff of The Commentator. Sruli and I might not have planned out the most convenient publishing schedule, but our staff always managed to rise to the occasion. One often expects in life (or at least I do) that when you are put in a position of leadership, people are ostensibly supposed to learn from you. But in reality, I have learned much more from the people around me.
I would especially like to thank Sruli. I have never quite met someone with such decisiveness, despite him claiming otherwise. Besides random facts in history, he also taught me many important lessons, for which I am very grateful. When I came to Sruli with topics that I was passionate about, he always took them seriously.
I also want to thank Yekusiel Levin and Rivka Bennun Kay. I wouldn’t be writing for The Commentator if it wasn’t for them. They came before me and they inspired me. A great amount of what I know about journalism — its ethics and the way I treat writers — comes from them.
I am grateful for all my wonderful friends I have made along the way. I owe a special thank you to Emily Goldberg. Despite not being privy to the behind-the-scenes of The Commentator, she stood by and encouraged me always to pursue my interests — in The Commentator and my academic studies.
Last but certainly not least, I want to thank my precious parents and older brothers. Any passion that I have had in life equally became theirs and they supported me through it all. Once, when disillusioned by the many edits left on my first Commentator piece, I turned to my brother. His reply has remained with me throughout. He told me to “stick with it, you don’t know what could come.”
All I can say is that I’m glad I listened.
Photo Credit: Hadassah Reich / YU Commentator
Photo Caption: Hannah Mamet reading The Commentator on the benches outside 245 Lexington
