Senior Column: Happy and proud, thanks to Mark Zuckerberg

I’m taking a seminar this semester called “Social and Economic Networks,” and in our first class, we learned about six degrees of separation—the idea that you can trace a connection to anyone in the world through a maximum of six relationships. So, even though I don’t know Mark Zuckerberg, I’m counting on Spec’s readers, and friends of Spec’s readers, and friends of friends of—well, you get the picture—to pass on this message to Mark for me: Thank you for making me happy and proud these last four years.

What I mean is that if it weren’t for Mark’s brainchild, I probably would have never joined Spectator, a source of so much joy for me. Sans Facebook, I would be graduating next month an engineer. My main extra-curricular would be the sailing club. I would maybe have gone abroad a semester. I would have slept a lot more. I wouldn’t have met nearly as many people as I did. I wouldn’t know the school, neighborhood, and city so well. Would I feel as proud as I do now about graduating from Columbia?

It was early January 2008, when my friend Ariana and I were in Paris for winter break, and I had just received an email from Alexandria Symonds. Alex had found me through Facebook stalking. She had seen I had “magazine” as an interest on my profile and wondered if I’d want to work on The Eye’s design team. Had I considered joining Spectator before? Did I have any publication experience? Did I know Photoshop or InDesign? No, no, and no.

Ariana said I should absolutely ignore the email. Was it not creepy that this girl had stalked me on Facebook? Plus, doing design would require late hours and had nothing to do with what I was studying. Worst of all, I would be slaving away for some magazine I had never heard of. Ariana made it sound like a challenge, and I couldn’t pass it up. At the least, I would attend the introductory meeting Alex had set up at the Spectator office.

I remember my first visit to 2875 Broadway well. I found the door next to Pinkberry, was buzzed in, walked up the steep stairs to the third floor, and followed the voices. The area designated for The Eye was cozy and intriguing, with fire-engine red chairs and old magazine covers on the walls. Eight or so sharp-looking students were in the process of introducing themselves. I was late, so I had to awkwardly stand in the doorway. Everyone seemed a bit shocked when I said I was SEAS and that the extent of my experience with magazines was reading French Vogue since I was a baby. Next to these journalism and design experts, I felt naive. But Alex was encouraging—as most Speccies are, I would discover—so I returned to the office the following day.

My first task on the production team was to redesign the magazine to make it less hipster. We started by flipping through old issues of The Eye, and right away, I loved my new role. There were juicy stories about TA-student relationships and how NYU might eclipse Columbia, accompanied by colorful photos and illustrations. These stories made the Columbia campus and student body come to life, and they made me truly excited to be a part of it.

What kept me involved with The Eye for the rest of my college years was a deep desire to share the effect the magazine had on me with other students. I took every opportunity to spread awareness about The Eye. I would “accidentally” leave an issue behind in class, hoping the next person to sit in my spot would pick it up. To this day, seeing someone reading The Eye or hearing it mentioned brightens my day.

I can think of a million times when something related to Spectator has made me happy and proud. From sitting next to Lindsay Lohan while covering Fashion Week to landing a dream internship at Vanity Fair to hearing Yale’s daily was starting its own magazine inspired by ours to discovering through Google Analytics that we had readers all the way in New Zealand.

When my time on the 134th managing board came to an end last semester, it was hard to let go. I miss my serene walks back to EC at 4 a.m. after a long night of hard, rewarding work and waking up Thursday morning to a fresh stack of new issues. Even though I can no longer call The Eye my own, I’ve been comforted by the fact that the magazine and Spectator continue to thrive. Future generations of Speccies—a mix of students who come to Columbia to pursue journalism and others who, like me, will stumble upon it by chance—will have reason to feel happy and proud of their work. Knowing this keeps me optimistic.

The author is a Columbia College senior majoring in economics-mathematics. She was design associate for The Eye on the 132nd associate board, style editor for Spectator and The Eye on the 133rd board, and editor-in-chief of The Eye on the 134th managing board.