For the past 3.5 years, Street has been my everything. I love this magazine more than I love most of Penn. It gave me the people I call my best friends and the best version of myself. But I need to move on. I love this magazine, but I can't be here anymore.
I don’t know my next job, next semester, next class. But because of Street, I do know that I found my place and my people.
My year as EIC challenged me to be the best at all times. And I haven't been the best at all time. I banned “Canada Goose” from the publication, I educated Corey on the best places to store tampons and I staged a marriage for Marley. But I’ve never slept so little. I cried to my parents more than I did in my four high school years. I’ve never forced myself to manage so many parts of myself. I’ve never felt more anxious. And now, I’ve never felt more proud.
That’s because of the people who make Street a nest. To the 131 Exec, Corey, Marley, Byrne, Ling, Ariela: If I were forced to repopulate the earth, I would do it with you guys. If I'm a backpack, you are my tampons. To the Street staff, I am so impressed with all of you. Thank you for filling my year with amazing content and amazing human contact.
When I came into this position, I said I wanted to “make shit happen.” Street, we made shit happen. In the form of poop jokes and in the legacy we’ve left behind.
I don’t know who I am without Street, but I’m looking forward to finding out.
STREET STREET STREET FUCK,