Taking care of business

One day last July, I rushed uptown from my internship to the Spec office for an interview. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t the one being interviewed. Instead, I was interviewing a candidate for the open accountant position at the newspaper. On the subway, I imagined the look of surprise on the accountant’s face when she realized that she, a CPA with years of experience, was being interviewed by a 21-year-old girl. I had done my research (phone calls with my dad and a Google search of “what to ask when you’re interviewing an accountant”), and the interview was going smoothly. That is, until a cockroach crawled across the floor in front of my chair. While the accountant remained calm, I spent the rest of the interview with my feet on the edge of the chair and my knees tucked under my chin, worrying more about roaches coming out of the walls than the interview questions.

Luckily, our soon-to-be new accountant wasn’t so easily perturbed. But the interview served as a reminder that I was still a kid playing grown-up. What crazy person had given me the title “Publisher and President” of a publishing company? I had never taken an economics class. I was a history major who didn’t know what bottom line or net income meant until I looked at Spec’s P&L statement for the first time (numbers in red parentheses are bad, it turns out, and at newspapers they’re everywhere). The learning curve was steep, and only after about half a year on the job did I feel like I was starting to get the hang of it.

The truth is, I never imagined that I would be interested in business. I joined Spectator my freshman year as an associate on the alumni relations staff. I got to Columbia and felt lost—I knew I wanted to be involved in something I cared about, that gave me a sense of purpose beyond my schoolwork and Carman parties. At first, I didn’t find any of these things in Spec. After the publisher encouraged me to run for alumni director during my sophomore year, however, my outlook changed. I became excited at the opportunity to grow a section of the business staff and contribute to the newspaper in a meaningful way.

I always marveled at the writers and editors who lived and breathed Spec, staying in the office until five or six in the morning to put out the paper. They, in turn, probably had no idea what I did with my time, since my hours were less nocturnal.

Let me say this: becoming publisher during my junior year was the single most challenging and rewarding experience of my life. Dealing with lawyers, bankers, bills, insurance policies, and newspaper-bin placement violations in the midst of an economic recession was enough to make me scream (and sometimes it did). Managing the relationship between editorial and business, as anyone who has worked on a newspaper will tell you, is never easy, and at Spec it is compounded by the fact that your coworkers are also your peers. I felt personally responsible every time I had to say no to a badly needed purchase, which was most of the time. But the pleasure I got out of owning something, of gaining confidence in my decisions, of feeling invested in a product, and coming up with ways to make it better and grow, was immeasurable.

Looking back, I learned above all that the only thing that matters is your relationships, on both a professional and a personal level. Wow, you’re probably thinking. What a revelation. It sounds trite. But I met students, alumni, lifelong mentors, and friends through Spec. I realized, probably a bit too late, that making plenty of time for my friends outside of Spec is equally important. I got so wrapped up in balancing school and Spec, and trying to enjoy my time as a real-life college student in between, that I lost perspective. Now, as I’m about to graduate, I realize that without these connections, everything else I gained at Columbia would be meaningless.

A big thank you to John M. and Manal for being my inspiration, for encouraging me to stick with Spec, for showing me the ropes, and for your wise words—because of you, I was able to have this fantastic experience. To the editors I worked with, I am so proud of what we accomplished together in the past year and I will always admire your passion. Thank you to the B-staff for your tremendous work in an often thankless role. Ellen, Dan, Tom, and April: you guys are the best. There are no words for your unbelievable, unconditional contribution to the organization.

The author is a Columbia College senior majoring in history. She was an alumni affairs associate on the 131st associate board, the alumni affairs director on the 132nd managing board, and the publisher of the 133rd managing board.