Welcome! Whether you are a new or a returning student, I’m glad you’re here. Prepare yourself for a year of trailblazing: a year of stumbling upon new people and experiences, a year of making mistakes (and laughing at yourself when no one’s looking), and a year of doing things that scare you because they scare you. You’ll come out a bigger person because you did. You’ve made your first great decision of the year: reading The Observer.
Some introductions are in order. The Observer is the official newspaper of Stern College. Founded all the way back in 1958, we have a long and rich history (now available through our completed archive). We are an independently published and self-funded publication—that means the viewpoints and voices you find within these pages are exclusively our own. We represent the student body of Yeshiva University. The Observer, still hosting an exclusively female editorial staff, is dedicated to celebrating the talent and vision uniquely housed within our walls.
With a beautifully designed website, our stories are getting more exposure and attention than ever before. According to site analytics, our top articles last year received tens of thousands of web-hits. You’ve probably read some of them yourself. Our content was featured, discussed and debated on blogs and other websites, and we created a social-media storm.
So, women of Stern—let’s fan the flame. This paper is our platform. It is our place to speak freely and honestly. The Observer is an expression of who we are—as women, as Jews, as college students and as thinkers. We host the voice of future politicians, doctors, writers and mothers. Our words have the power to shape, shift, and inspire. It’s a power we need to take seriously, but a power of which we can feel incredibly proud.
A bit about me: I’ve been writing for The Observer since I first set foot on campus two years ago as an Israel fresh-back. I served as features editor, managing editor, and this year I will serve you as your editor in chief. I’ve reported for The Jewish Week and currently work as an Assistant Editor for Parade Magazine. I love writing more than snow days and cheesecake, and am mad enough to try and make a career out of it.
But back to you. I want you to write. So, how do I make that happen? First, I’d like to refute the top three reasons I’ve received for why not to write.
The first excuse: What I want to write about has been written about before. For those apprehensive about writing, this serves as the perfect rationale. To refute this excuse, I quote from scripture (I knew my seminary education would serve me well): there’s nothing new under the sun (Ecclesiastes 1:9). If you are deterred by what’s come before you, you’ll never blaze a path of your own. Remember: You always have something new to add to a conversation. No two people experience something in the exact same way.
The second excuse: people aren’t interested. My rebuttal: that’s why you write. To make people interested. Give others a window into your world, and they’ll give you a window into theirs.
The third, and most compelling, excuse: people won’t like what I have to say. True. They might not. They might disagree, and tell you so. You might eventually turn about and disagree with yourself. But, better to have written and reformed than never to have written at all (as they say). Your writing does not have to be perfect. Allow yourself, and your thoughts, to be works in progress. Articles are not finished products, but indications of a journey. Disagreement and even dislike should not scare you if you stand behind the words that you write.
Unfortunately, I can’t quell all of your fears about writing. Putting your thoughts down on paper for the world to pick apart and judge is scary. But, as I’ve discovered over these last few years, it’s worth it. We owe it to ourselves to speak up. It’s time we starting trusting our own words and thoughts.
A few weeks ago, I participated in the Princeton Tikvah summer seminar with a group of exceptionally intelligent and accomplished individuals. I fancy myself a confident individual, but I found myself doubting the things I wanted to say while in group settings. Does this question make sense? Is this thought coherent? Will I sound like I wasn’t paying attention? Stumbling over my own thoughts and inhibitions, I missed opportunities to add and contribute to the conversion. What I had to say was valuable—my thoughts were worth hearing. But I allowed my fears and inhibitions to get in the way.
My vision for The Observer this year is to triumph over those fears. I want to create a forum where the women of Stern College can speak up—even if our thoughts are imperfect, or incomplete. The world will take us as seriously as we take ourselves. Trust that your insights are valuable and unique. Be bold enough to put them down on paper. Allow your hand to be the first one to shoot up, and don’t look back.
One more piece of advice, since I seem to be in the business of advice-giving for the moment: Don’t be afraid to ask questions. This advice was given to me this summer by Cindy LeVee, the Editor in Chief of Glamour magazine. I have rarely met a woman with as much poise, grace and confidence. A blazer draped nonchalantly over her shoulders, she described to me and my fellow interns how she worked her way up the masthead, beginning as an intern and making her way to the position she now holds. “This is the time in your career when you ask questions. Ask everyone and anyone you come across. Soon you’ll realize everyone is an expert at something. You don’t have time to become an expert at everything. So ask them to share what they know, and their knowledge will become your own.”
Ask. Explore. Challenge. Write. Take the opportunity this year to be a part of the conversation we’re starting right here, on these pages. You won’t regret it.
Write on.
-Hannah
P.s. Follow The Observer on Twitter: @YUObserver (And I could always use some more followers: @Hannah_Dreyfus.)