Anusha Singh / Daily Nexus
Dear reader,
I’ve been trying and failing to write this letter for the past 10 weeks. What do you say to an organization that gave you everything? How do you say goodbye? What words of wisdom do you impart to the readers, your replacements, your friends, your family?
I think I’ll start at the beginning.
I’ve never been good at change — this fact reared its ugly head once again during my freshman year. College, as a whole, is the transitional period from childhood to adulthood, and freshman year is that wobbly, unforgiving first step. For me, it was an era of experimentation, sorrow, of falling apart and having to put myself back together.
I still think about all of the people who took off running. Who met their people, their community, on that first day in the dorms. I couldn’t help but compare myself to them at the time. What was wrong with me? Where were my people?
As it turns out, I had to go looking for them.
The first time I stepped into the Daily Nexus office was in the fall of 2023. My nerves melted away as I entered the time-worn office. There’s something so homey about it, even to a stranger. The soft couches, covered in dust, that you sat on anyway because you had to. The walls, full of chalk from Nexites past. Years of history, tucked away and held close, pasted on walls and preserved by the people who worked there. I knew, almost immediately, that I had stumbled upon something special.
I joined the Artsweek section that fall, and it took me almost an entire quarter to actually write something of my own. It was a lackluster review of a lackluster Netflix series adaptation. When I read that review now, I cringe at my own naïvete, but I’m also endeared. It was there, in Wednesday night Artsweek meetings, that I fell in love with journalism.
In the winter, I covered my first event — a concert by Grammy Award-winning jazz musician Samara Joy. I learned how to discern what was important enough to include in the article, and I learned the art of scribbling down as many notes as possible in a dark theater. That winter, I also wrote my first feature piece on the student organization Creatures of the Night, the architects of the quarterly midnight showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I covered my first of three Outstanding Directors Awards at Santa Barbara International Film Festival, and co-wrote my first article on the Women in Media conference.
As a staff writer for Artsweek, I learned so much about journalistic structure, reporting from an objective perspective and so much more. But, as I grew in my own voice and writing style, I found myself wanting to experiment outside of the rigidity of Artsweek-style news writing. I wrote for the Sports section, recapping the Wrexham A.F.C. preseason match played in Harder Stadium. And after my study abroad, I wrote a U-Mail for the Opinion section about my devotion to the Euro-trash clubs.
I’d always been interested in writing for Opinion, but to some level, I thought I didn’t have anything to say (other than that I love and adore Euro-trash clubs). But when President Donald Trump was re-elected to his second term at the end of 2024 and entered office in 2025, I knew that the Opinion section would become an important facet of the student voice for the Daily Nexus.
What I felt could only be described as a calling.
Opinion writing immediately provided me with the freedom that I didn’t have with other sections. While I’ll always cherish Artsweek, I’ve fallen in love with the freedom of writing Op-eds, getting to write about important issues, and stupid ones, too. So when I was given the opportunity to join the Opinion team as an Assistant Opinion Editor, I jumped at the chance. I fell deeper in love with editing, leading the section and making the weekly page — the euphoria of guiding a writer through getting their piece published. Thursdays have become my favorite days because I get to see the final product on my walk through campus, perk up my ears and listen for the unmistakable crinkle of newspaper pages.
Through leading the Opinion section, I felt like I was actually making a difference in my community. Putting out important pieces, letting students have a voice on their own campus. It’s some of the most rewarding work I’ve ever had the privilege of doing.
And I wouldn’t have been able to do it without my beautiful community surrounding me.
Kira Logan, I wouldn’t have wanted to share this job with anyone else. You are a profoundly beautiful writer and a somehow better person. I can’t wait to read what you do next and wish that I had written it instead.
My predecessors, Elizabeth Lee and Sury Dongre, thank you for showing me the ropes. I hope you know that the Opinion office is forever haunted by bimbo feminists.
My lovely Editors in Chief, Shayla Prasad and Anusha Singh. Thank you for always giving us the space for creativity and experimentation. I feel lucky to have such two brilliant leaders as friends.
Our successors, Narineh Madikians and Dylan Hunter, I know you will do great things. Just trust me bro.
Kendra Martinez and Alicia Siebers, I aspire to have the same seemingly endless energy you both possess. You make it feel like a party every day.
Sneha Cheenath — I never thought I would meet someone in college with a shared affinity for “Jessica Darling’s It List.” Thank you for consistently giving good advice. I won’t always listen.
Emily Yoon, thank you for always seeing my vision, even when I don’t see yours. Your creativity and lust for life inspire me every day.
Lauren Chiou — thank you for DMing me all of those eons ago about coding in R. You found me!
Geckoswick, thank you for always picking me up from the Nexus office and waiting for me to nightcap. Thank you for listening to me rant and reading my articles in the paper. You are all one collective breath of fresh air.
To my family, thank you for being my rock, my compass. You are my home!
Working at the Nexus has been an experience I wouldn’t trade for anything. Not even all of my Tuesday nights. Thank you all — everyone on the editorial staff, my writers, my friends — for everything. I’d be lost without you.
Lucy Dixon can’t believe she’s writing her last byline.
