Each year, graduating editors are given 30 final column inches — “30” was historically used to signify the end of a story — to reflect on their time at The Hatchet, published in the final issues of the year.
Growing up, adults told me I was an old soul. I loathed sleepovers. I borrowed my grandmother’s BritBox subscription to watch murder mysteries. I even dressed like a miniature Talbots model, complete with a cardigan and tailored slacks. Looking back, I realize this was a kind way to say I was a curmudgeon.
When I joined The Hatchet’s staff, I found myself relegated to the back corner of the basement — literally. Like the curmudgeon I was, I thought this would not do. At 19, I had untested, unearned confidence in my writing skills and believed I deserved a bigger role on this paper. The only issue, however, was what that role was. Interviews intimidated me, and I knew I didn’t have the journalistic knowledge to be an editor. To stay, I’d have to create a new role for myself.
In thinking about how I could add to The Hatchet, my mind flashed back to advice columns I’d read in tween magazines, like Discovery Girls and American Girl. My elementary school library had hundreds of editions, and I hung onto every word, relating to early bloomers who were embarrassed about needing bras and following the high drama of tween friendships. If I loved these columns so much, why not write one?
And so the idea for “Ask Annie” was born. With the wisdom of 19 years beneath my belt and the bonus element of my so-called “old soul,” I made a PowerPoint presentation and pitched the idea.
Very quickly, I saw I was out of my depth. People wrote in about troubles on their esports teams, crushes they had on TAs and fighting with their friends over a guy. I’d never played video games. My romantic experience was limited to freshmen boys not older TAs. On the occasion I got into it with my friends, I tended to lose the friend and the fight.
I was the entirely wrong person for the job I created for myself. But I fought too hard to quit. So, I took a deep breath, gathered my team and wrote.
I always aimed to imbue my responses with as much wit as wisdom. I’d like to believe that those who wrote in gleaned something from my perspective, while also remembering that problems are rarely as heavy as they feel. I know my answers weren’t always perfect. I’m sure I’ll look in five years and wonder why I thought that was a good solution.
I’m still growing as a person and as a writer. But, if you’ll indulge me a final time, I have one last piece of advice. If you have an idea, go for it. Be bold and ambitious, even if it is fueled by unwarranted confidence. One day, you’ll prove yourself worthy of the risk.
“Ask Annie” has been a community labor of love. From my editors to my cartoonists to staff members who have written as “Annie’s Friends,” I couldn’t have done it without you. Here’s to you:
Clara, Julia, Ethan, and Jarrod: I can’t imagine what you must have thought of a sophomore pitching themselves as equipped to solve all of the problems college students face. Thank you for taking a chance on me!
Jenna: My original cartoonist, my editor, one of my best Hatchet friends! They say don’t mix business and friendship, but we’re the exception to the rule. Your quick wit and humor always made my work — and my day — better.
Nick: Whether it’s the hottest new movie or bar with the best deal in town, you’re a true curator of culture. It’s been a pleasure to work with you, whether pitching ideas for the column or writing about campus fashion trends. I’m so excited to see where you go and read what you write next. If your work here is any indication, I know it will be good.
All who submitted to “Ask Annie:” At the risk of sounding like PBS, this column was made possible by your contributions.
All who wrote as “Annie’s Friends:” Thanks for stepping in when I didn’t know the answer. It’s an honor to share the space with you!
An and Abby: Thank you so much for your lively and clever graphics. They took each piece to the next level!
Diana: From the moment we sat down to develop questions for our famously unpublished Eli Rallo interview, I knew you were going to be a star. I’m looking forward to seeing everything you do for the culture section! It’s in the best hands possible with you and Carly.
Grace: Cheers to an editor in chief I’ll never forget! I admire your eagerness to get the best story possible and your dedication to each staff member. You’ve given me the space to advocate for my work, and I’m incredibly grateful. I can’t wait to see all that you do next!
Faith, Ianne, Nikki, Cristina: Thank you for your time and effort in creating an environment where great writing and reporting can thrive!
Mom, Dad, Emily: Thank you for your endless love and support on my journey to be the next Carrie Bradshaw!
Anyone who read “Ask Annie:” Even if you disagreed with me, thank you for the views.
-30-
