As Co Editor-in-Chief of the Catalyst, I’ve spent the last year and a half reading hundreds of news articles. Some have been about Colorado College, surrounding topics like enrollment, housing and school leadership. Some have been about local politics and propositions, and some have given perspective on overarching federal policies.
In this edition, our news section will look slightly different. For one, because there isn’t any blaring hard news to report. We are also bringing back an old Catalyst tradition, “Perspectives: In Their Own Words.” This series was once a way to spotlight various members of the CC community. It has since been lost in lieu of other columns and traditions within our paper. But, since this is our very last edition as co-editors-in–chief, my partner, Lilly Asano ‘27, and I thought it would be appropriate to reanimate this series.
In this context, Lilly and I will be writing our own personal statements; letters from the editor, if you will. While we don’t have our usual breadth of hard-hitting news, we’ll be sharing a bit about ourselves (we’re slightly narcissistic) and what our time at the Catalyst has meant to us. So, thank you, our readers, for making all of this worth it. Even if the Catalyst has a positive impact on just one member of the community, it’s worth it for us.
Like about half of the CC student body, I’m from the Bay Area, Calif. Specifically, I’m from Hillsborough, an area about 30 minutes south of San Francisco. I’d describe it as a blend of suburb, city and nature. To many of my friends’ chagrin, I literally will never stop talking about how amazing my hometown is. During our spring break trip to California, my fellow Bay Area natives and I spent the entire trip explaining why it’s specifically the best place in the world. The food, the scenery, even the air is just perfect to me. From Philz Coffee to Poplar Beach, the Bay Area will simply always be my home.
Growing up, my older siblings and I were constantly fighting for who could be the loudest. At school, I was more shy, but at home, it felt like an explosion of volume and color. My sister, Caroline, and I had the classic sister trajectory of hating each other for a little bit and then becoming best friends. Truthfully, it was my sister who got me into writing in the first place. Her rhetorical skills are truly unmatched. Whenever our family gets into a spat, she’ll have these dramatic monologues that are so beautiful and truthful, it’s as though she wrote them in advance.
My brother and I share a lot of similarities, such as a sense of humor and our interests. I used to think he was a distinctly lucky human being, but now I more so recognize his positive mindset and ability to move on from failure. Amongst many other things, I heavily admire his sense of adventure and tranquil ambition.
I always felt much more drawn to the humanities than to STEM in school. I quickly learned that I would not have a career in mathematics or statistics. But, what I did realize is that I wanted to be surrounded by people and their stories. I feel most alive when having a meaningful conversation, or even better, to write about one.
In high school, I chose journalism as an elective, following in my sister’s footsteps. My high school newspaper was, in a word, dramatic. It sometimes felt as though my peers and advisor were convinced it was the New York Times. The Coat of Arms was constantly riddled with drama, excitement and little spats between editors or our eccentric advisor.
I spent the latter two years of high school as the newspaper’s spread editor. The center spread of a newspaper refers to the two facing pages that sit at the physical middle of the publication when it’s opened flat. Because these pages form one continuous visual surface, they’re often treated as a single design space rather than two separate pages.
For our paper, the center spread featured a different theme in each edition and a special visual component to accompany it. I loved running spread, not just because it taught me a lot about design, but also because it allowed me to dive deep into hard-hitting topics relevant on campus. In my two-year tenure, we covered topics such as eating disorders, sex education, social culture and so much more. Covering these stories connected me to my high school community in the deepest way possible. But while I loved my time at the Coat of Arms, I vowed to find a different hobby in college and branch out. I felt as though I’d run my course with journalism.
Post-high school, I was hit with a major existential crisis. I’m an existential person, but this felt way bigger than my usual panics about what life is all about. I felt as though I hadn’t found a substantial purpose, that I had seen and experienced so little. It’s easy to feel invincible when you’re young. For me, it was the opposite. The utter smallness of my existence ate at me like a parasite in my brain. On a gut feeling, I deferred acceptance to CC and took a gap year. I had no plans, no real trajectory for what I was going to do, but I just knew that it was essential to me. I knew I needed to self-actualize.
I won’t give a play-by-play of everything that happened over that year because that would make this story unbearably long, but to say the least, it was everything I hoped for. My favorite part was hiking the John Muir Trail.
As I said previously, I had no intention of pursuing journalism at CC. It wasn’t until the spring of 2024 that I felt as though I’d done enough exploring in other extracurricular activities. Right around this time, students across the country were protesting their colleges and universities for divestment from companies headquartered in or affiliated with Israel.
Lilly and I came together at this time to get live updates and coverage of the protests. It was exhilarating to be a part of the community in this way. Not just an observer, but a means of publishing student expression.
The next year, I started writing more and more, eventually becoming the Arts & Entertainment editor. And, when the time came to consider applying for the Co EIC job, I knew in my gut that I wanted it. Taking this job has been one of the best decisions of my life, and like Lilly, I’m grateful for it every day.
We had a million goals when we first started out, and I’m proud to say that we’ve achieved so many of them. Under the guidance of our former web editor, we redesigned our website to spruce up our organization’s aesthetic. We standardized our layout style, prioritizing cleanliness and symmetry (with support from our amazing head layout editor). We aimed to maintain high writing standards and prioritize ethical journalism above all else.
Like any organization, the Catalyst still has so much room for improvement. But, I am proud as hell of the work we’ve done. I feel no fear handing this publication off to the next co-EIC duo. This paper will likely transform into something totally different over the next few years. But, I know that no matter what happens, there will always be students at this school who are just as passionate about keeping journalism alive as all of us who work here now. Thank you for the best job ever. Love you, Catalyst.