By Managing Editor Molly Barrieau
Somehow it took me five years to figure it out. I began to notice once I started working at The Navigator, and I really should just accept it: I don’t like writing.
So what? I have earned this space to share my opinion with you, dear readers, and I feel it is time for me to accept my fate. Sure, I write, and yes, I can enjoy the process. However, I’ve allowed myself to calm down, stop worrying and admit that my words may never hold the same power as those of my fearless staff.
And I mean fearless. It is incredibly rewarding to meet such dedicated and inspired writers on the masthead of this paper. In my career, I’ve met dozens of talented writers who contribute to the long list of The Nav alumni and giant portfolio of articles.
This year is no different, and I am lucky to be the one who gets to watch eagerness turn to experience. My professor introduced a party game to class last week. The room was labelled with six separate areas of interest: enterprising, business operations, arts, science, social science, and trades. The idea was to choose which group we would gravitate to at a party, determining our future internship options. Most of us chose to mingle with the artists, musicians and writers.
I justified that I find myself talking to artistic types, even though I do not play an instrument or pick up a paintbrush. And while I may never be the best writer in the room, I am the one who will always want to read, hear, or see your talent and share it to the best of my ability.
And then it clicked into place. I am a managing editor: this is my job. My job is not to wow you with words, or garner awards for my gab. MY job is to help YOU show everyone what you can do. I will be the one pushing you on stage, making you coffee so you finish that story, and offering to read that article and help you create a masterpiece.
Other classmates remarked on the egocentricity of artists, and the necessity to talk about ourselves to others for reassurance. We want that instant gratification from friends while we are amidst our long term projects.
Yet, my long term project is this paper. I don’t write fiction, poetry or scripts, but I can edit just about anything. So, in a roundabout way, this is my chance to call upon you to share your voice with us. I promise to make you look good, and pay you.
Send us your ideas and stories, so I can spread your word, at <editor@thenav.ca>.