Thinking of getting involved with journalism? Don’t. It may be something to add to your resumé if you’re not an athlete, but you’ll have to deal with stressful deadlines, people you never thought you’d talk to in your life and pressure to improve your skills. The worst part of it all? You’ll never want to leave.

Actually, it’s not at all like you think. Production doesn’t seem so exhausting, deadlines don’t seem as terrifying, the people don’t seem as boxed off. You have a life inside the classroom, people to inspire and motivate you, an adviser to support you and watch you achieve. I honestly think it would have been easier if I hated it.

If only I were one of those kids who never found my groove in high school. If I hadn’t felt the need to branch out and experience new things, maybe now I wouldn’t be torn apart by the idea of leaving The Call. Why couldn’t I have had an awful time branching out and learned to stay in my comfort zone? Why did I join staff, hoping to succeed, and do so?

The fact these things didn’t cross my mind when I applied drives me crazy. Why, now, am I so regretful to have found a niché? Like evolution, you must grow, and as you do, younger people step in and fill in your footprints. They take what you did and make it better. We, who once were new to this crazy newspaper life, became leaders of a 20-page newspaper in the blink of an eye.

It is bittersweet, really. I wish I hadn’t gotten attached to The Call’swacky traditions and staffers. Why couldn’t these past three years have sucked so I could long to graduate like the rest of my peers? Now, as more of a parent to The Call, I must do what’s best for it, not me. I can visit, I can cherish, but the days of deadlines are behind and I must let The Call grow.