Letter from the Editor 12.09.2020
One last letter from this editor, to the next ones
Dear Bea, Chelsey, Mehek, and Karin:
This wasn’t the year it was supposed to be. We were supposed to be living out of the Stroffice, sharing cold grapes from ACME at 2 a.m. as we went over print proofs. We were supposed to be able to get close enough to hug our friends when we sent the .pdf of tomorrow’s magazine to Matt at DPC, and we were supposed to hold Edz meetings in the large conference room every Sunday. We were supposed to have a real banquet next month. We were supposed to hold a fall Street Retreat and bond at BYOs. We were supposed to do a lot of things.
But things go wrong. It’s unavoidable in this company, and you’ll be dealing with plenty of fuckups down the line. You’ll learn from them, and you’ll grow into the legendary and visionary Strexecutive Board that is ready and willing to grab the wheel with both hands and steer Street through its late adolescence until you hold the debut of your loud, funny, smart, and magical magazine out in front of you for the first time.
Everything will stop, and you’ll experience that wordless and euphoric emotion you’ve felt only a few times before: It’s your entire world in twenty pages and one double truck (although future issues might be formatted a little differently). Time stops completely. Your heart shudders. And then you do it all again. And again. And again.
To quote my first letter: Leading Street wasn’t something I’d even dreamt of as a first year, and it still doesn’t feel very real now. But if 18–year–old Tamsyn wanted a happy ending to her tenure at 4015 Walnut, maybe this is the beginning of that end.
Now, it truly is the end. And I am happy. But for you, it’s just beginning.
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