It is The Hoya’s tradition that each editor in chief of the newspaper publishes an exit piece on a topic of their choice at the end of their tenure. 

On a chilly fall morning, I found myself on the doorsteps of a man who had illegally used thousands of dollars meant for student scholarships to purchase his own house in Georgetown. 

At that house, recorder in hand, I stood ready to face this man, the former treasurer of the Georgetown Delta Phi Epsilon (DPE) fraternity, who has also faced allegations of sexism and xenophobia. A few knocks and two unnerving minutes later, an old man in a bathrobe creaked open the door just a couple of inches. 

I introduced myself as The Hoya’s senior news editor, and said I was writing a story about his use of charitable donations from Georgetown University graduates to buy his own home in 1990 — a home that is now worth more than $1.1 million. Other news outlets had published a similar story without his comment, but I felt that taking every step to include him, even if it meant searching for him at his home, was the ethical route.

Despite talking with him at his doorstep for nearly 30 minutes alongside my co-senior news editor, I did not receive a straight answer to any of my questions about the money, and he denied to say a single word on the record.

It was only after I gained access to private deposition documents implicating him that I convinced him to go on the record. After lengthy negotiations with him and consultations with a legal hotline, my co-senior news editor and I published the article with his side of the story — a nuanced addition which we were proud to have gone out of our way to secure.  

The first interview I conducted as a student journalist was nowhere near as exhilarating though. Before coming to Georgetown, I sat in my childhood bedroom during the pandemic as a reporter for The Hatchet, George Washington University’s independent, student-run newspaper, and spoke to a researcher about a device that used nanoholes and wavelength technology for COVID-19 diagnoses. 

To say the assignment was confusing is an understatement. 

After the interview, I spent my night watching YouTube videos with titles like “Introduction to Nanophotonics.” By midnight, I almost forgot I had no intention of pursuing a Ph.D. in biological engineering but was merely a reporter. 

That was how I filled my otherwise isolating freshman year — diving deep into research on whatever story my editor assigned, packing my afternoons with interviews and spending my nights writing. When my news editor asked me in the spring if I was interested in being the health and sciences editor for the news team, I eagerly jumped at the opportunity.

The defining moments of my sophomore year, my first year of college in person, became leading my reporters in fast-paced coverage of the pandemic. Just when I thought I could put my computer down, the university would drop some breaking news like the detection of the first Omicron case on campus.

I learned quickly that producing strong content is about taking steps I never thought were part of a student journalist’s job description. Whether climbing onto flimsy chairs with a flashlight to inspect students’ vents for a mold outbreak story, racing on foot to 20 restaurants to investigate their compliance with the university’s plastic policy or searching the hallways of the Medical Faculty Associates (MFA) to locate evasive sources, I saw that the more I went out of my way, the better my reporting became. 

Along this journey, the news team became my family, and I craved spending hours, perhaps a few too many, in The Hatchet’s townhouse on 21st Street NW. 

At the start of my junior year, I transferred to Georgetown, fairly confident that my student journalism journey had reached its end. It felt impossible to integrate into a totally different newsroom so late in my college years, despite all the valuable experience I had accumulated at The Hatchet. 

As I explored the hundreds of clubs at Georgetown’s student organization fair, I walked back and forth past the table for The Hoya, Georgetown’s newspaper of record, at least five times, determined to avoid it and “find a new passion.” When I finally could not resist the urge anymore, I walked up to The Hoya’s table just to meet their editors.

I ended up filling out an application later that week for an entry-level position as a junior, alongside a bunch of first-year students, telling myself I would write one quick story for The Hoya just to test it out and avoid any regrets about not trying. The next week, I picked up another article, and before I knew it, I was writing three in a week for The Hoya.

The Hoya’s coffee-stained carpets and quote-cluttered walls quickly became my natural habitat as I worked my way up from a reporter to senior news editor and from executive editor to editor in chief.

As editor in chief this year, I found myself leading coverage of critical stories including the student body’s response to the Israel-Hamas war, the loss of beloved community members and the first successful unionization effort by a Washington, D.C. college group. In doing so, I realized that running a paper meant embodying the same spirit of taking the extra step which I craved most as a reporter. 

While these steps now took different forms — developing detailed action plans with reporters in anticipation of news that often did not even happen, launching a cleaner website, developing a new breaking news process and more — I saw how steps which the paper could technically survive without were the ones with the largest impact on the community. 

My favorite part of leading the paper became encouraging my staffers to take on their own extra pursuits like launching a travel blog series or publishing a new type of visual essay. Sometimes, additional steps were as “small” as shifting the placement of a photo on the front page to make the print issue more dynamic or changing a single verb in the lede to make the sentence feel more vivid. 

The Hoya is what it is because of the details. Every time a reporter goes out of their way to get an additional source, a copy editor enters a two-hour debate about the placement of a comma between coordinate adjectives or a photographer takes that extra step to get as close to the subject as possible, the paper becomes better.

I urge my successors to keep fighting the small battles. There will be plenty of big battles to address, and you’ll have no choice but to face them. 

It’s winning the small ones, which are easy to ignore, that will make The Hoya the strongest paper it can be. I know you all have what it takes, as long as you remember that no edit is too small.

Thank you to all the people who have made this four-year journey worth it:

The Hoya:

Nina: Running the news team is no easy task, but you were the best co-senior news editor I could have asked for. My favorite memory will always be that fall night when we left The Hoya office at midnight and walked straight to the library. At that point, we barely knew one another, but we had a silent understanding that we wanted to print the strongest story possible. We locked ourselves in one of those dark, tiny Lau rooms to work on “the embezzlement story,” and before we knew it, the sun was rising through the window, and we had relocated to the dining hall for breakfast. As we stayed up that night re-running interview tapes, debating the wording of the nutgraf and sending way too many follow-up emails to sources, I knew we would be great co-senior news editors. I am so lucky we ended up great friends. 

Evie: When I first interviewed you for a desk editor position, I felt you would be perfect leading The Hoya’s GUSA coverage. Since hiring you then, I have had the pleasure of directly mentoring you as your senior news editor, executive editor and now editor in chief, watching you transform from a shy GUSA reporter engulfed in the nuances of student government to a confident leader in the newsroom. You have always taken the time to address every single one of my many edits, no matter how big or small, with the utmost care. That desire to produce the best story possible is vital for a new editor in chief. The job is not always glamorous, but set high expectations for The Hoya’s content, and work hard with your team to meet them. Above all else, remember to keep an unwavering commitment to your staff. I am always here to support you. 

Jack: Being your editor for nearly two years as you’ve worked your way up from grad desk, to senior features editor and to executive editor this semester has been one of my most rewarding experiences at the paper. When we first started working together, you had only two articles under your belt, but you had so much enthusiasm. I remember once you were late to a budget meeting because you were conducting interviews for the following print week, before others had even pitched their stories. You never failed to pick up a story when the paper needed support, and the improvement in your writing and editing skills reflects that. You have the heart for the job, and that’s what I wanted most in my executive editors. Stay creative and keep writing, Jack. I hope you stick around in the student journalism world. 

Caroline: With nearly 60 articles a week, The Hoya has a lot of content to handle. Filling 20 print pages for every single issue we publish is a tall task. Having someone to track where each story is in the editing process and to monitor staffers’ progress is very helpful to the entire office. The editorial side of the paper can get crazy with neverending breaking news, so I appreciate the stability you’ve brought to the paper while managing many of the logistical challenges we have faced, whether that be our server crashing or our pages not saving at 3 a.m. 

Chris: Words cannot describe how grateful I am to have your support. Sometimes it feels like every day brings a new crisis, and you have always been there to listen. I appreciate that you never told me what I should do. Rather, you pushed me to make my own decisions and bear full responsibility for them. That has made me a stronger journalist and leader. Thank you for your steadfast commitment to me and this paper.

Max: While I despise the poster in the office that reads “The Hoya is a business not a newspaper,” I appreciate your support in running the paper’s finances. Our budget faced some serious threats this semester, and you were by my side as we rallied hard to get the money we needed back. Keep supporting The Hoya, and always reach out if I can help. I’m expecting some phone calls to break down the latest in the Premier League soon.

Caity: Thank you for being chair this semester. I know it can be a stressful job, especially during the hiring and onboarding process, but it is an essential part of the paper. It is clear that you care strongly about The Hoya, and this paper is better off as a result. I can’t believe we have almost made it to graduation! 

Katie: I remember anxiously walking into The Hoya office for the first time after transferring to Georgetown and speaking to you about whether I should start down the student journalism path all over again. You encouraged me to try picking up some stories and before long, you trusted me with turning around highly-sensitive front-page stories in less than 24 hours. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to prove myself.

The Hatchet:

Jarrod: Someone once told me that the two of us editing a story together was a dangerous combination because we both want the tiniest of details to be right. That person was certainly correct. I remember once we spent nearly 40 minutes arguing over the most suitable adjective to capture the bustling spirit of Kogan in a way that best contrasted “desolate,” an adjective with which we were obsessed. You were the most inspiring senior news editor. Above all, I respected your work ethic, and I sincerely took every edit from you to heart — minus the chitty chitty bang bang comments and Italian movie references, which always made me laugh as I edited at 4 a.m. Even though we somehow always ended up being the last ones to leave The Hatchet townhouse, I enjoyed the endless hours of writing. Remember to keep those life updates coming, and I can’t wait to dive into more reporting drama next time we FaceTime. 

Jared: There are many things I have yet to forgive you for including your dislike of my groundbreaking cicada pitch and your intent to wrongly refer to my beat as health and research. I will let all of that slide, though, because you have been an incredible mentor to me. As managing editor, you were always receptive to my ideas. I have long admired your immense institutional knowledge of The Hatchet and the commitment you have shown to the paper over five long years. The way your eyes light up anytime you talk about The Hatchet, even being a few years removed, always reminds me just how much you love the paper. It’s been such a pleasure to see you thrive at The Hill, and I can’t wait to catch up again soon. 

Zach: I still laugh about how two baby health and sciences reporters are now running D.C.’s college media scene. Did you think it would end up this way when we were showing up to pitch meetings on Zoom during our pandemic-ridden freshman year? Whether rushing into the nasty depths of JBKO to report on a flood or hitting the Kennedy Center rooftop for fresh air after a 10-hour editing day at the townhouse, we have lived through the chaotic ups and downs of student journalism together. We made a toast one night two years ago as a joke, and in some crazy miraculous way, it came to fruition. The Hatchet is incredibly lucky to have had you as its leader this year. You have navigated so many unexpected challenges, always with a genuine love for what you do and a deep commitment to the task at hand. While I miss having you on my team, I know I always have you as a friend. Now it’s time for both of us to see the world outside the newsroom.

Nick: We first worked together remotely when I had just taken on the health and sciences beat, and you were writing a story for me. I remember thinking you were so communicative. If you were going to miss a deadline, you always let me know. It didn’t take long for me to trust you. When you were a fact checker, I wanted my sensitive stories to have “a Nick read” because you were committed, even if it meant spending hours with me sifting through transcripts and documents. You always told me you had no intention of moving up The Hatchet’s ranks, yet here you are graduating as managing editor. I can’t say it surprises me because I never believed your little “I’m not going to get sucked into it” spiel. It’s a joy to watch you approach each story with unmatched enthusiasm — I still remember how excited you were to interview five of the world’s top cicada experts. You will succeed wherever you go, but you better stay in touch. 

Clara: While student journalism has given me invaluable skills, I am most grateful that it has gifted me lifelong friends. You have supported me since day one at The Hatchet, and even after I transferred to Georgetown, you have been by my side as I have navigated all the obstacles The Hoya has brought. I have always admired the creativity and one-of-a-kind pitches you brought to the culture section. Everyone always said that if they could be part of any section other than their own, they’d pick culture. You are a big reason that’s the case. While it has been inspiring watching you apply all your talent from student journalism to a professional news outlet, you impress me even more with your thoughtfulness and care for others. I can’t wait for our next coffee chat. You truly deserve an award for all my newspaper talk you have had to endure over the years.  

Abby: I am forever grateful that when giving us our very first assignment, Lia put us on the same story. Both of us were fairly confused because the subject matter was so sciency, but we tried our hardest to come up with detailed interview questions and write a compelling first draft. Since then, whether texting about how we had yet to do our archival reading of The Hatchet’s old volumes or how we had too many interviews to juggle, we were always there for one another. We took our first steps in student journalism together, so it meant everything to me to have you at my final production night as editor in chief. As you have taken a step away from The Hatchet this year, you’ve continued to make me so proud with your accomplishments in school and work. Thank you for being the best supporter and friend since day one. 

Lia: I was so thrilled when you asked me whether I was interested in becoming an assistant news editor, and I was even more thrilled to take on health and sciences specifically, especially in the peak of the pandemic. Even over Zoom, you nurtured such a strong team and gave all of us health and sciences reporters the essentials of news writing and interviewing. I remember sitting in my childhood bedroom when you gave your little “star reporter” speech, and I was so beyond excited to be your pick. Thank you for believing in me. 

Zach S: I always felt like I had a partner in crime in you as we tried to predict the university’s next steps in its COVID-19 response. It was so exciting spearheading The Hatchet’s pandemic coverage, and you were always so on top of assisting me with the breaking news, even if we engaged in lengthy debates about what classifies as breaking news and what doesn’t. Keep killing it at The Hill.

Everyone beyond the newsroom:

My sources: Thank you for trusting me to tell your stories. Student journalism would not be what it is without you. Remember to stay in touch.

Professors Oldenburg, Albergo and Sinderbrand: Thank you for supporting student journalism and for consistently checking in on how The Hoya is doing. I always solicit feedback from you about the paper because your opinions mean so much to me. I have come to all of you with some sort of newspaper dilemma before, and you have listened as I talk through all the potential avenues I could take. While I love student journalism because it pushes students to learn on the ground, I am appreciative of the learning that has happened in the classroom too. It’s been rewarding to see myself and my staffers bring in elements of writing, ethics and business from your classes to The Hoya’s operations. While I typically come to class with very little sleep and a whole lot of coffee, you’ve been so engaging that I always feel inspired to participate, even after a long production night at The Hoya.

Zharava Dancers: I have you to thank for putting me in high spirits before I enter the newspaper office. For those two hours of rehearsal every Wednesday night, I can forget about the next day’s front-page headline or the latest problem I need to solve. Sometimes, I’ll sneak in a quick message to my staffers between dances or add a few edits to an article, but for the most part, you have been able to pull me away from the stress of student journalism and let me do what I love most: dance. My closest friends know of my long-standing and far-fetched dream to join a professional folk dance ensemble in Bulgaria one day. While that dream is on pause — skills need some serious development — I’ve been able to live out another dream of continuing Bulgarian dance with the kindest and most welcoming group. Thank you for becoming my family away from home. From now on, whether you like it or not, I’ll be free for Wednesday dinners.

Friends: You know who you are, and you are all too familiar with the “I have the paper” excuse. I have had to skip dinners, parties, weekend adventures and much more because breaking news hit, a source wanted to talk or a staffer needed me immediately for an emergency. The list goes on and on and on. Student journalism is all-consuming, but rather than making me feel bad for missing events that I would have loved to attend, you encouraged me to do my job at the paper even better. You understood that leading such a large organization can be difficult, and you were always open to talk. Thank you. It’s finally time to celebrate! 

Mom, Dad, Nicole and Baba: I know that when things go crazy, only my family can truly understand me. You witnessed firsthand how I got sucked into the world of sleepless nights and high-stakes decisions. You watched me restart my journalism journey at The Hoya as a reporter and work my way up to editor in chief in less than two years, a path that did not come without its tough moments. You’ve dealt with my tardiness to family dinners as I got caught up with a source, my inability to fully engage with you as I edited articles from the back seat of family road trips and my constant chatter about paper matters. While you worried that student journalism was taking too much from me, you saw that I loved this chaotic lifestyle more than anything, and you backed me in my choice to give my all to The Hatchet and The Hoya. I am grateful for your support as I balanced school and this one-of-a-kind 50-hour-a-week job. I am the editor, writer and, most importantly, person I am today because of you. 

Here’s to finding my next chapter’s headline.

— 30 — 

Michelle Vassilev is a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences and the editor in chief of The Hoya.