Editor’s Note: Traditionally, graduating seniors working at The Collegian are given the chance to write a farewell note at the end of their tenure at CSU.
After two drafts and several hours spent crafting the farewell letter I’ve been ignoring for months, I come to you with my editing hat off, attempting to reflect on what I consider the best experience of my life.
My initial path here was a crash course in mental whiplash. Ready to sidestep my hesitations and attend reporter training at the beginning of my college journey, I slotted myself into the third October training cohort, led by former Editor-in-Chief Serena Bettis in the student media conference room. Enveloped by sound-absorbing panels that, somehow, abated my discomfort in the cold RMSMC basement, I was asked in training to sign up for a desk to shadow under. For a reason that now escapes me, I chose news.
I was told to meet Allie Seibel, then news editor and current editor-in-chief, a few days later in the same office. So I showed up, and for those who know, there are few feelings as painfully familiar as first stepping into the newsroom and not knowing where to go or who to talk to. But at a certain point, I’d bitten off enough fingernails and turned enough book pages to deduce that I had been ghosted.
About a month later, I found myself inside the Clark C Building on a first-floor bench, the one swathed in a thin layer of fuzzy slate blue fabric, reading a screenshot of a job posting by The Collegian. The copy desk was looking for an editor to join them the following semester.
Boxed in from the biting wind of late November, I hunched over my computer for what felt like three hours, compiling essay samples and writing a personal statement for the copy chief at the time, Lauren Pallemaerts. Shortly after applying and interviewing for the copy editor position, I received a “Congratulations!” email from then editor Adah McMillan and felt the purpose return to my body after a bleak first semester of college. I was about to get paid nightly to scrutinize campus news and fix typos; my excitement made sense to me and me only.
The first semester on the job confirmed a few things for me: It’s OK to spell a simple word incorrectly in front of your new boss; it is unacceptable to let a first or last name go to print misspelled; and it isn’t impossible to find your community as a lost, unmedicated first-year student. What I didn’t realize at the time was just how much that community would mend my broken self-image and fundamentally change my life.
To Lauren and Adah, I miss you. Thank you for welcoming me into your world. Your voices linger in my head every production night with encouragement and reminders about adverbs and erroneous commas. Every decision I make has an air of your delicate precision, Lauren, and your veracious intuition, Adah. I will never stop replaying our memories.
To my pookie, the magnetic Emma Ward, you are everything a favorite co-worker should be. You decorated my sophomore year memories with “Red Wine Supernova,” The Cranberries, French onion soup and Altar’d State baby tees, all while laying the groundwork for the teariest, snottiest goodbye I’ve ever had.
After losing all three to graduation, I gained something that was foreign to me at the time: an unfettered confidence in my ability to uphold the same excellence and top-notch editing the copy desk brought to the paper week after week. Perhaps more than that, I finally had the opportunity to lead and mentor a team of people.
I want to recognize the copy editors who stuck beside me, always ready to tackle the infamously tedious first story edits. To Katelyn Urbanski and Ava Harris, thank you for being patient as I learned how to drive this bus. You both are the most fun, bubbly first hires a girl could ask for. To Cassie Banuelos, your style reassured me that culture was alive and well in the office. To Stella Van Buskirk, you blew me away from the moment I met you; you are going to go so far. Mai Gokkaya, I feel honored to be a part of your phenomenal resume. Rachel Johnson-Bothe, I cannot wait to see you live out your copy editing dreams. And Brighton Hathaway, you are the embodiment of effortlessly cool. From the bottom of my heart, I deeply appreciate you all.
Spending the better part of my college career in the newsroom has introduced me to dozens of editors and reporters over the past three and a half years, and I want to say, I will never forget how to spell your names. I assure you that every “Hi from copy” message was sent with intention and love, even when it arrived at 1:06 a.m. And despite the unique and impressive ways some of you manage to weave editorializing into your writing, it has been a privilege to hear your stories and feel the passion in your words.
A special thank you goes to our 2025-26 editorial staff, marked by one-of-a-kind souls like Katie Fisher, Laila Shekarchian and Sophie Webb; and boundless creatives like Alli Adams, Cait Mckinzie and Ruby Secrest. You all make The Collegian a beautiful place to be.
For the part of this farewell I’ve been dragging my feet on for weeks, to my core print production team: It has been real. Allie, working under your leadership has been a literal dream come true. You’re an exemplary person and the purest reflection of grit. Looking back now, I can say with complete sincerity that I am so glad you ghosted me that Friday afternoon. To Hannah Parcells, I feel lucky to have had you on my team; thank you for all the Slack messages you sent when I couldn’t.
To Nathan Carmody and Caden Proulx, I shudder to think about what production nights would have looked like without you. The days of running around the office with a megaphone, retreating to our staircase and commandeering the podcast room to record cover songs may be over, but your ability to make me laugh until I cry will never be.
My final goodbye goes to Willow Engle. There are some people you cross paths with in life whom you immediately know you can’t live without. Every day I see you serves as a reminder to grab hold of time and not let it slip by. To have encountered someone with so much wisdom, innate brilliance and unfailing wit so early in life feels like a quiet kind of miracle. My nights with you were never long enough.
And if there’s anything I’ve learned at The Collegian, it’s that the most wonderful things in life never feel like enough time.
Now, for the first time in over three years, goodbye from copy.
Claire Vogl was the 2025-26 executive editor of The Rocky Mountain Collegian. She can no longer be reached at copy@collegian.com, but she can be reached on social media @clairecvogl.
