What I think about when I think about Spec

Recently, as we exited East Campus and passed a pile of unread Specs, a friend asked me what I think of when I see the Spectator “now.” “Now” meaning a year and a half after I wouldn’t read the print issue because I saw it each night before going to press, a year and a half after all I really cared about was the Spec.

Spending every weeknight in the Spec office, the job of Editorial Page Editor became a part of my identity to the extent that I didn’t understand how anyone had held it before me or how anyone could possibly have it after me. Now when I go to the office, which I rarely do, I have to buzz up for access instead of casually swiping my ID. The office that used to feel like home, the one that had my decorations and my files, is strange to me. Now, not only does no one recognize me, but I don’t recognize the names on the masthead. I still feel a kind of pride, especially when I see people reading the Editorial Page on campus or on the subway, but it’s a nostalgic pride, a feeling for something I no longer do.

Even after moving on from the job of editor, I never quite left the editorial mindset. I went abroad thinking I was done with the Spec. I was far from New York, but I also had Internet access and ended up reading the paper online—starting with the editorial page and often stopping there too. As a reader, I found myself being very critical—questioning columnists and editorials. I told myself I would never have made such a decision, or I would clearly have done better. I read the articles as if I were still the editor critiquing sentence construction and questioning why certain campus events were being discussed and others weren’t mentioned at all. I wasn’t disagreeing with opinions—as an editor I wouldn’t always afford myself that luxury. It didn’t matter if I agreed with an opinion or not, what mattered was that it was clearly presented and factually accurate.

Maybe what made it so difficult to move beyond this editorial mindset was the fact that I haven’t written for the Spectator, excluding unsigned editorials, since before my tenure as editor. At first I blamed this on the fact that I was too busy editing or recruiting or just going to 800 meetings, but I now realize that I had become nervous about having an opinion. I saw my role as the guardian of the opinions—having one of my own would have compromised that position. Granted there was some legitimacy to this fear. I did receive random hate mail—this made my parents more nervous than it made me—and was often criticized for my choice of Facebook groups. While I ran the Editorial Board, and thus ultimately had the authority to steer decisions one way or another, I thought of myself as more of a mediator. I rarely stated my opinion during the meetings. Instead I took notes and questioned board members in an attempt to clarify their points. Columbia students are always searching for bias and injustice, and I wanted to be as neutral as possible. Granted, this is not how past editors ran the section—many have had their own biweekly columns—nor is it how future editors will, but it was what I decided, even if somewhat subconsciously, was best for me.

It’s funny though, I joined the Opinion section because I had opinions, but stayed to take care of other people’s. This decision got more difficult as I learned more about how Columbia works and my friends got more involved in activities, ultimately running the groups that we were covering. While doing my job I forgot how to raise my own voice. My experience with Spec so defined my time at Columbia that ever since it’s been difficult to see myself as anything but “the editor,” even outside of a journalistic setting. Even in casual conversations, I find myself saying things like “some people say,” or “hypothetically” in an attempt to distance myself from the opinion stated. Spec was my identity and now it’s not. Maybe, now that I’m graduating, I’ll be able to move away from the shadow of the title and start to express myself again. Maybe all I need is a sense of closure. Anyway, that’s what I think “now,” when I pass a pile of Specs.

The author is a Columbia College senior majoring in philosophy and concentrating in French. She was an associate editorial page editor on the 131 associate board, the editorial page editor of the 132 managing board, and a training editor for the 133 deputy board.