“HAPPY RETIREMENT!” screamed a chorus of voices as I walked into our office on 12 Arrow Street last night. For the first time in my two years serving at the helm of the Harvard Independent, I was completely surprised by what my staff had created for me: a surprise “Retirement Party,” featuring the dozens of Indy members who have joined since my tenure. I had planned to spend the next couple of hours writing this very article. Instead, “retirement legend” posters glittered from the walls, handwritten letters crowded the tables, and champagne bottles popped.
If you told me when I walked on campus freshman fall that the next four years would bring me this community of love and talent, this home of an office, and this paper that has become my bible, I would never have believed you.
I sounded quite confident in my first editor’s letter from January 2021, proclaiming, “It’s a new year. A new semester. A new dawn for our country. And at the Independent, a new chapter begins.” In truth, I felt wholly unprepared for the editorial baton handed to me by Marissa Garcia ’21. I had never before supervised an article at the Indy or for my high school newspaper — the difference between content and copy editing was foreign to me. I had never before led a storyboard meeting — or any meeting with dozens of people, for that matter.
I asked myself: How can I edit articles to maintain writers’ opinions and style without imposing my own? How much work should I take on myself, and how many tasks must I delegate? Will we run out of themed ideas for each issue? Can I earn the respect of our Graduate Board, our staff, and the student body? How can I forge a sense of commitment to this paper when we aren’t even publishing on campus, and hardly anyone knows who we are?
But the greatest growth happens at the moments of greatest discomfort. Former president Arsh Dhillon ’23 and I were not defeated by the newly virtual nature of our newspaper during the Covid-19 pandemic, but instead saw unlimited potential for its growth. Our mission was to bring to life former Tech Director Michael Kielstra ’22’s eloquent description of our philosophy — “we belong to no one but ourselves” — a line we adopted as our official motto and printed on the back of every issue. The Independent belonged to us now. We could make it our own.
Over the next two years, Arsh and I spearheaded an effort to transform the look and feel of our paper. We sharpened our reporting to cover aspects of the student experience that are often silenced and overlooked, crafting distinct themed issues (the fall 2021 Welcome Back issue, twenty pages exploding with bright colors and strong prose in the theme of the Roaring Twenties, is our favorite). We implemented high-quality photography and illustrations, completely redesigned our website, and enhanced our social media outreach (check out #indyinthewild on Instagram). We also launched a weekly crossword that we catch professors completing between classes, as well as a newsletter, podcast, and video journalism content. Online readership has hit its highest rates and our masthead has swelled from just a handful of writers when I joined in the fall of 2019 to one bursting with names that Design Editor Piper Tingleaf ’24 struggles to fit into each issue.
This semester, the Independent sent a Harvard student inside the Supreme Court to report on the affirmative action case, published provocative op-eds not found in any other campus outlet, and was even cited by the New York Post. We also moved from our old home of 2 Garden Street to a new one — beautifully sketched on this issue’s cover — fit for our growing community of journalists. The Fall 2022 Comp Class was our largest yet: we onboarded 34 reporters, designers, and business staffers.
But this journey wasn’t all purple “IndyLove” hearts and dazzling issue covers. It was the tens of thousands of words I’ve read and edited on Google Docs submissions. The weekly Facetimes till 3:59 AM with Arsh or Piper, perfecting font sizes and em-dashes on InDesign before sending that week’s issue to our publisher by the 4 AM deadline so it can reach every dining hall by 9 that morning. The two renovations of our offices, the four Graduate Board meetings, and the dozens of Storyboards I’ve overseen — plus the one misleadingly-named Sex Week promotional party, FuckFest (which, I can assure you, I did not oversee). It was the thousands of issues distributed across campus by hand, the hundreds of articles published, and the 32 issues I had the honor of curating.
Just as much as my tenure has been a lesson in the art of reporting, writing, and editing, it’s been a lesson in human psychology. Navigating passionate disagreements, diverse talents, and demanding deadlines — especially for us unpaid student reporters who are also enrolled in four courses, involved in other extracurriculars, and many of whom are planning to become consultants, not journalists, when they graduate — has at times felt impossible. I’m still trying to answer the questions I posed to myself in January 2021, experimenting with how best to create a cohesive community and a culture of creativity that leads to the highest-quality journalism.
But I’ve learned some secrets along the way, and they should belong to you now, Masthead LIV, as you continue our legacy.
Learn everyone’s names and say them often. People will commit most to this paper when they feel recognized and that their work matters.
Give praise. Accompany every critique with a compliment, and writers will likely work even harder. Reward rising stars with positions of leadership, and they will likely rise to the responsibilities demanded of them.
Wine nights are always a good idea. This one speaks for itself.
Order pizza. Whenever you need to incentivize people to come to the office, feed them. Learn from history: several of our Graduate Board members only discovered the Indy because an introductory Comp flyer promised free food.
Don’t switch meetings to Zoom. Even when it requires trudging through the Cambridge snow, get everyone together, in person. Remember that we weren’t afforded this experience for over a year of the pandemic — and make our rent worthwhile.
Wear your merch. Prove the rumors correct: the Indy is indeed a cult.
Be bold. It’s better to fly too close to the sun than never get burned. Remember: we asked Dean Khurana to film a 69-question Q&A video with us and he said yes. We theorized sending a writer to the Supreme Court and it happened. If you put in the work, you can make the Indy whatever you want it to be.
Belong only to yourself. It’s easy to feel swayed by cynicism on campus, outnumbered by mainstream opinions, and targeted by Indy snides on SideChat. But this paper is yours. While bound by a shared dedication to storytelling, our writers are independent in thought and opinion.
As our President Noah Tavares ’23 said at my retirement party, “We write the words. We publish the words. People read the words. And the words matter.” His statement might have garnered a couple of chuckles for its simplistic phrasing, but it rings loud and true. Write the words that matter, own them without shame, and keep doing it, week after week.
Marbella Marlo ’24, I’m thrilled to pass the baton to you. I can’t wait to see what you accomplish over this next year, and I know I’ll one day scream “HAPPY RETIREMENT!” with just as much pride.
Mary Julia Koch ’23 (mkoch@college.harvard.edu) is not happy to retire.