Depending on your profession, ablank page could be a wonderful thing — full of possibilities, ready for you to make your mark.
For an editor, it’s the stuff of nightmares — ones with hairy spiders, chainsaw-wielding madmen and red pens that have all run out of ink.
So, I almost hate to ask, but did you see the blank pages in this issue, Pages 30-35? No? Thank goodness.
And thank a student. I did.
We employ 13 students — writers, photographers and a social media intern — for contributions that go beyond simply completing assignments and filling holes. In this issue, senior Ian Moran drove under threat of snowmageddon to Columbus, Ohio, to photograph a couple who will make bicycle dreams come true (Page 56). Our graduate assistant Tom Corcoran ’13 channeled his experience on UD’s football team to uncover mysterious figures from the Flyers’ 1938 squad (Page 61). To find their work, just look for bylines followed by the student’s graduation year. They leave their marks everywhere, including proofreading these pages.
Last summer, my assignment to senior Erin Callahan was to poke her head into every academic office and ferret out people and programs for potential stories. She returned from civil engineering with a name: Pete Ogonek. What started as a 500-word student profile blossomed into her feature “Rowing Machine,” starting on Page 30. Not only does she tell a good tale, but she also filled a very large hole left when the editors decided a previously scheduled feature just wasn’t ripe enough to run.
I barely had time to panic about a blank page when Erin filled it with a story of determination and excellence.
I’d like to think this entire magazine shows just that. The traits are often found in those we interview and photograph, in the stories we tell and the University we love. But our staff — both professional and student — demonstrate determination and excellence every day. A favorite part of my job is working with these students, feeding off their energy and teaching them what I love most about this craft. Our working relationship is not perfect; there are frustrations over missed deadlines, killed stories, or the obstinate use of the serial comma. But when I page through the final product, and know all that has gone into it, I am very, very proud.
I hope you are, too.