As a child, I would’ve given anything to avoid being the center of attention. I felt far more comfortable remaining in the background than stepping into the spotlight. Family members and friends alike remember when, as a five-year-old Little League player, I stepped up to the plate, got into my batting stance and… politely requested that spectators turn their backs to allow me to swing the bat without embarrassment. It wasn’t that I was afraid of failing, but that I was afraid of having the focus entirely on me.
My unrelenting desire to evade the spotlight allowed me to develop a unique interest in others from a young age. At family gatherings, while my cousins ran around playing games and yelling boisterously, competing with each other to be the loudest and most attention-grabbing, I assumed my regular spot at the grown-up table. Wide-eyed and attentive, I harbored an appetite for compelling narratives and a relentless hunger to listen. Between bites of Nana’s homemade meatballs, I sparked meaningful discussions through introspective and thought-provoking questions.
When I entered high school, my listening skills and inquisitive mind naturally led me to The Evanstonian, where I’ve taken a front-row seat in witnessing the power of storytelling. Throughout the course of my involvement on the paper, I’ve had the privilege of interviewing students whose practices, beliefs and life experiences differ from my own, well-versed teachers who have seen the community bear dramatic transformations as well as individuals who possess a wealth of knowledge in a special field. I’ve spoken with national leaders in the fight for reparations for Black Evanstonians, with community leaders of the soup kitchen at my synagogue and with basketball players and coaches in the Fellowship of African-American Men Youth Basketball League. These people have opened up, shared their truths and shaped my worldview.
In all of this effort to keep the spotlight off of myself, I have become passionate about telling the stories of others. Through the process of understanding people both like and unlike me, I’ve come to better understand who I am as an individual. I’ve gained confidence in my abilities as a listener, writer, critical thinker and effective communicator, holding my own in conversations with both experts and peers.
I’ve developed a strong sense of empathy for the experiences of others. To feel with people, to lead with humility and to listen with an intent to understand are customs that shape all aspects of my life, within and beyond the confines of The Evanstonian. I’ve come into my purpose to empower the informed and provide a voice to the voiceless, to depict a more inclusive, whole and authentic snapshot of the Evanston community at-large — as a human being first, and a reporter second.
Finally, I’ve realized the importance of my own story as part of a unique and diverse community of individuals. For so long, I declined to display the same vulnerability that I continued to ask of others, not seeing myself as a subject worthy of discussion. Now, considering my own journey through the lens of how I share someone else’s is what has led me to recognize how far I’ve come.
When I entered this space my freshman year, I possessed a love for writing, but I hadn’t yet discovered its ability to amplify perspectives and drive meaningful change. The Evanstonian has surrounded me with people that have offered me unwavering support—people that have uplifted me and inspired me to uplift others. Over these past four years, I have found a second family. I could not feel luckier.
To Mr. Phillips, for making me feel deeply seen, heard and valued, and for showing me that the most difficult stories to write are the most worth telling.
To Sophia, for making all of our wildest dreams come true. Your creativity will take you so far.
To Clara, for showing me what a true friend looks like. And for all the cookies.
To Owen, Alexis, Milo and Eva, for offering me a helping hand always. I can’t thank you enough.
To Frank, for being the heart and soul of this publication.
To Ethan, Sam, Izzy, Naomi and Ryan for carrying on the legacy that we are leaving behind. I can’t wait to see all that you accomplish next year.
To the entire staff, for constantly showing up. You are the engine that allows us to propel forward each month.
And to The Evanstonian, for teaching me that telling others’ stories is, in many ways, an act of stepping up to the plate, and being a journalist is an act of being publicly visible but also liable for getting facts correct and honoring people’s narratives. The Evanstonian has been my home for the past four years, and there truly is no place like home.
While I still prefer to ask the interview questions instead of answering them, I know the process of taking a back seat and allowing others to shine has helped me to develop an even stronger sense of self. I am no longer that kid who wanted everyone to look away as I stepped up to bat; I am finally confident enough in who I am to take a swing with all eyes on me. As I take this next step forward, I am proud to carry with me the stories of everyone I’ve spoken with, learned from and felt empathy towards. Because of them, I am ready to share my own story: one marked by growth, passion and dedication.
