357 days ago we held the first issue of The Phillipian, vol. CXL. The pages felt different, somehow, than we were used to — softer but heavier in our hands. By the end of the day, papers were scattered across campus, some stuffed in recycling bins, others collecting mud underfoot, but it didn’t really matter. There’s something supremely gratifying, supremely powerful, and supremely humbling, about sharing something that you love so much with the people who have inspired you to create it.
Through our failures and triumphs, we cannot possibly express how much your readership has meant to us. This paper has magnified our mistakes and held us accountable for them, shoved us down and made us pull ourselves back up again. Yet serving this community and the people in it has been some of the most fulfilling work of our lives thus far.
And the people are what truly matter. The relationships forged throughout our time with The Phillipian have transformed us in innumerous, indescribable ways. (It’s strange that now, after writing and editing thousands of words, we seem to be without them). The 41 people you see listed across the CXL masthead have grown together in ways none of us could have ever predicted. Days turned into nights turned into days as we laughed and argued and cried. It hurts to think that we will never be able to recreate those moments in the Newsroom, no matter how painful or joyous they may have been.
To CXLI: you have everything you need. We’ve watched you learn and grow and blossom under these hallowed fluorescent lights, and we could not possibly be more honored to pass everything we’ve learned to love so fiercely into your hands. You have more courage than you know. Thank you for everything.
To Neil and Tracy: thank you for your constant patience, your gentle guidance, and your unwavering support. Thank you for knowing just what to say and when to say it, even when it was hard for us to hear. Thank you for respecting and honoring all of our decisions — even when they ran counter to your advice. Thank you for everything.
To Andover: thank you for challenging us in ways that we had never been challenged before. Thank you for holding us to the highest standard. Thank you for making us do and be better. And thank you for allowing us to learn and grow as students and as journalists. Thank you for everything.
To The Phillipian: thank you for giving us purpose. Teaching us how to lead, how to fail, and how to fail with grace. Thank you for teaching us more than could ever be learned in a classroom at Andover. Thank you for those nights without sleep that taught us we were invincible. Thank you for your flaws, your legacy, and your friendships. Thank you for everything.
Over the past 12 months, the cadence of our lives has transformed. A significant portion of the time we once took for granted has been spent serving the most important community we’ve ever been a part of. And now, just as we settle into the familiar, comfortable routine that is Andover and The Phillipian, we must go.
We must leave you, our readership. We must leave the Newsroom, our home. And we must leave CXL, our legacy.
But we’ll still be around, don’t worry; this isn’t goodbye. Just see you later.
Reflections from departing Editors of The Phillipian, vol. CXL.
“An article will never edit itself. The paper will never publish itself. An editorial will never write itself. The newsroom will never clean itself. So be crew, not passengers, because you are the last resort.” — J. Lim
“Hard work always pays off. The result may not be what you expect or desire, but your efforts will not go unnoticed. When there’s something that you really want, fight for it — don’t give up no matter how hopeless it seems because the best things in life don’t come free.” — J. Lee
“Do your job.” — L. Tolo
“Love yourself (and your section) as fully and as widely as possible.” — E. Ndiokho
“Uploading is a much more important job than people make it out to be.” — C. Yun
“Get groovy with it.” — I.Bicks
“ ‘Help will always be given at [Andover] to those who ask for it.’ –Albus Dumbledore” — N. Schoeller
“There is something so wonderful about the clicking of the computer mouse, the empty Capri Sun boxes, and the people sitting by your side in a basement into the late hours of the night. I hope you experience this.” –– L. Lee
“Enjoy the laughs and the tears (from laughing so hard).” –– J. Wang
“Yes, The Phillipian is a substantial time commitment, but in exchange for the time you lose you gain a family (your fellow editors) and a home (the Newsroom). It’s worth every minute.” — K. Hartzell
“Always find time for a spontaneous round of the Wikipedia game. And listen during Ed Talk — your fellow editors are some of the most special and brilliant people on campus.” — Z. Hutchins
“Find your niche in The Phillipian. If the position doesn’t exist yet, create it. Get involved. Trust me, you won’t regret it.” — S. Bloom
“Treasure the fleeting moment when you can call the newsroom home. Find joy in the small things. Take risks. Know that everything will be okay with your fellow editors and a bag of Hint of Lime Tortilla Chips by your side.” — H. Zhang
“Don’t forget who the real queens are.” — A. Zhang
“Relish every moment. It’s fleeting but so rewarding.” — E. Wong
“Surround yourself with those who make you feel at home and you’ll never become lost.” — M. Shea
“Ed talk > harkness” — G. C. Elkouh
“Soak it all in; the smiles, the laughs, the people.” — A. Kao
“:’)” — S. Ren
“Find a reason to love the work as much as the result, and you’ll never find yourself slowing down.” — N. Toldalagi
“Be intentional, be earnest, be sure. Remember that you are everything you’ve ever done.” — C.Vieira
“Do what you love with the people you love and nothing else matters.” — R. Fawcett
This editorial represents the views of The Phillipian, vol. CXL.