Wesley Case

I get asked about my tattoo a lot.

It's on my left forearm. I had it done in an attic-turned-parlor on Kirkwood Highway during a trip with Maggie Schiller, former sports desk editor, and Nick DiBerardinis, the Review's cartoonist for the past two years (and my senior-year roommate). The tattoo never fails to receive this reaction: "What does it mean?" I tend to be vague with my answer to the question. I say, "It means whatever you want it to mean." Seems like a cop out, right? It's not. My tattoo - my only tattoo - is my own, small form of inspiration and, in my mind, applies to many things, including my time at The Review. (Is that an editorial stretch? Possibly, but follow me.) It is a personal reminder to never settle, which in the Review office includes pushing my staff, and myself, to report as accurately and fairly as possible on all stories. On top of that, it's a reminder that feedback, both good and bad, is essential to the learning process that is journalism.

This year, I had several lengthy conversations with Registered Student Organization leaders about their grievances with our newspaper. These meetings were informative, uncomfortable, aggravating, eye-opening and, most importantly, imperative to better understanding the university's diverse (that word again?), complex community. Walking away from those meetings, I felt I had a better understanding of what our university needs to shorten the gap between apathy and engagement.

The answer is simple - communication.

I was once asked, "How do you choose which Letters to the Editor are printed?" I answered, "We almost always run all of the letters we receive. Some weeks we don't get any." The light bulb flickered and the person realized what I've known for awhile now - people don't take the time to respond to what we do. It could be laziness, passivity or something else, but this lack of interaction only leads to greater distance between our university's newspaper and the student body it's meant to cover. (An aside, and example: Last semester, The Review opened its doors to many RSO's to field complaints and concerns we had always heard rumblings about but rarely heard face-to-face. Two groups showed up.)

This is not placing blame on anyone for the distance between our newspaper and the campus. In fact, it's far from it. I am proud of the strides we've taken to mend previously broken relationships with RSO's, faculty and students, yet we are still miles away from where we should and need to be.

I cannot stress enough the importance of The Review and this community closing that ever-widening gap that will only lead to an even more apathetic campus. (Don't believe me? Some RSO's still won't do interviews with The Review because of previous experiences involving staffs from past years.) I can be blunter - if something we've done pisses a reader off, tell us.

I'm not sure if this is lost on some readers, but we are aspiring journalists, not seasoned veterans. We are full-time students who balance countless activities, obligations and everyday problems, just like our readers. We also spend a substantial amount of time in our office, reading, writing, designing, and contrary to some beliefs, editing. So when we make a mistake, it's always an honest one, which does not deserve a pass but should be bolded, italicized and brought to our attention immediately. It's the only way we're going to learn.

I would be remiss to not also urge the journalism professors to continue to encourage, critique, compliment and reprimand its students (and newspaper staff) when appropriate. There must be a constant drive to want to produce a better product than before, and without the faculty's input, we're merely students trying to do what we believe is best. It's a good start but we look to our professors for insight and answers.

And as far as staff members go, both past and present, I've met many different people while working at the newspaper but we all had a similar attitude to our jobs: there is always something to improve.

It's that fire that reminds me why I love this job. The Review is an independently run newspaper, meaning the university has no influence on what we publish - something I will always cherish. "Free press can, of course, be good or bad, but most certainly without freedom, the press will never be anything but bad," said Albert Camus, who was, and still is, right. The future of The Review is in good hands no matter who takes over as long as it continues to publish what it believes to be true. How great is that?

This is my final byline as editor in chief and I'm now ready to hand over the reins. That attitude is not because I'm tired of the position but because I'm incredibly confident that those who come after me, whether it is next fall or in 20 years, will continue the tradition of never settling or saying "that was good enough." I love that.

Real quick, back to the tat. It should be noted that just like the dorky, English major, journalism enthusiast I am, it's probably appropriate that my 1-year-old tattoo, which is only text, is written in size 20 Times New Roman font. I swear journalism had nothing to do with my decision to get such a permanent addition to my body. Except that it, like everything else, has everything to do with it.

My tattoo reads "we can make it better" and to this day, I have the same number of regrets I had the day I got it. Zero.