Parting is such sweet sorrow
Kristine Wada
Issue date: 11/23/09 Section: Features
I was planning to write about my cute leather boots and the steadily cooling weather, but tonight, as our Kapi'o family gathered for an early Thanksgiving dinner, I realized that I might have something more important to share in my last column than my thoughts on winter fashion.
Yes, our staff is nothing short of a family. It's hard not to be one with a mother hen for a boss who listens for hours as we dish about our lives, who feeds us pizza and blueberry scones and who, in my case, helps me work on my resume and research job openings. It's impossible not to love co-workers who sing along to Justin Bieber and munch on Thin Mints, all while tucked away in a little office behind the library.
I began working here while taking a class taught by Catherine, our faculty adviser. The newspaper was in need of extra hands-even those belonging to newbies-for page layout, and despite not knowing much about design or even journalism, I signed on. I figured, why not?
The veterans took me and another starter kid in, patiently teaching us not only how to use the design programs, but also the unique dynamics of working as a team.
At the paper, each individual contributes his or her section, which we then read, edit, layout and tie together into the lovely piece of work that you find in our blue newsstands each week.
Tonight is production night. In the spirit of Thanksgiving, we stuffed ourselves with poultry, potatoes and pumpkin cake and then sat around the table and shared what we are thankful for. I considered making a joke about boot weather, but looking around at that circle of co-workers, I realized how truly lucky I am to have found this job.
This issue will be my final for the paper: it's my last semester working here, and it saddens me to realize that I'll no longer be coming in to this office every day.
I'll miss our staff cooking competitions, through which I've learned that some of us are skilled in the kitchen and that some of us are skilled at getting relatives to cook for us. I'll miss writing profiles on the inspiring men and women of KCC. I'll even miss production nights, when we're all sipping coffees and Cokes to stay awake between keyboard clicks.
Above all, I'll miss this amazing staff. Nowhere else have I felt such a connection with and love for my co-workers, all of whom are my counterparts. I may not get that tattoo that reads "Kapi'o Forever," but this job will always hold a special place in my heart.
I started at this paper simply to have a part-time job that would fit in with my school schedule, yet my experiences here have completely changed my view of the position. I'm leaving with a respect for the work of journalists, a renewed passion for writing and most importantly, a new family. Sometimes we find love where we least expect it.
Yes, our staff is nothing short of a family. It's hard not to be one with a mother hen for a boss who listens for hours as we dish about our lives, who feeds us pizza and blueberry scones and who, in my case, helps me work on my resume and research job openings. It's impossible not to love co-workers who sing along to Justin Bieber and munch on Thin Mints, all while tucked away in a little office behind the library.
I began working here while taking a class taught by Catherine, our faculty adviser. The newspaper was in need of extra hands-even those belonging to newbies-for page layout, and despite not knowing much about design or even journalism, I signed on. I figured, why not?
The veterans took me and another starter kid in, patiently teaching us not only how to use the design programs, but also the unique dynamics of working as a team.
At the paper, each individual contributes his or her section, which we then read, edit, layout and tie together into the lovely piece of work that you find in our blue newsstands each week.
Tonight is production night. In the spirit of Thanksgiving, we stuffed ourselves with poultry, potatoes and pumpkin cake and then sat around the table and shared what we are thankful for. I considered making a joke about boot weather, but looking around at that circle of co-workers, I realized how truly lucky I am to have found this job.
This issue will be my final for the paper: it's my last semester working here, and it saddens me to realize that I'll no longer be coming in to this office every day.
I'll miss our staff cooking competitions, through which I've learned that some of us are skilled in the kitchen and that some of us are skilled at getting relatives to cook for us. I'll miss writing profiles on the inspiring men and women of KCC. I'll even miss production nights, when we're all sipping coffees and Cokes to stay awake between keyboard clicks.
Above all, I'll miss this amazing staff. Nowhere else have I felt such a connection with and love for my co-workers, all of whom are my counterparts. I may not get that tattoo that reads "Kapi'o Forever," but this job will always hold a special place in my heart.
I started at this paper simply to have a part-time job that would fit in with my school schedule, yet my experiences here have completely changed my view of the position. I'm leaving with a respect for the work of journalists, a renewed passion for writing and most importantly, a new family. Sometimes we find love where we least expect it.
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