Hello, world! Although I am certainly not among those intrepid opinionists whose names grace these pages every two weeks, you may have recognized me from somewhere else within the folds of The Emory Wheel’s opinion section. While I go by many names, it is me, Hunter Collins. In small yet emphatic bold letters, my name used to unassumingly adorn the masthead next to the highly official sounding title of business manager.
Now that I have passed on my role, I feel the need to give our readers a small slice of my former life. It certainly seems like many students know about the Wheel and enjoy grabbing a copy of our print edition before leaving them half-read and scattered around campus. However, not many students know what goes on behind the curtain and beyond the writing. Thus, allow me to paint a picture of my work behind the scenes at the Wheel.
Whenever anyone asks why I managed business at the Wheel, I always start with my early introduction to the publication. I grew up near Emory University’s Atlanta campus — almost comically close. Every now and then, my mom would bring home a copy of the Wheel’s latest print, which I would inevitably peruse. I enjoyed reading about all the happenings in a world that was so close, yet so very far, from my own. Back then, college life was a mystery to me, but I admired the formal elegance with which it was dutifully recounted, commented upon, satirized and committed to page in the Wheel’s dynamic forum. I came to see the paper as a tangible, enduring and accessible signature of the ever-changing, complex institution which it represents.
Given that the paper has served Emory since 1919, the Wheel’s immense legacy also inspired my young mind with awe. For me, engaging with the paper was to engage with Emory’s narrative through the lens of student envoys. I came to see that the perspectives circulated by the Wheel are as much Emory as are the innumerable spaces, people, ideas and ubiquitous green compost bins that happen to function in tandem at this current time and place. The rest is history. When I became a student at Emory, I sought out work at the paper. Writing was never my thing, so I decided to try my hand at the business team. Several semesters later, I was running the show.
When I hear “the Wheel’s business manager,” I usually picture a put-together business student who is worried about their upcoming internship interview. Believe it or not, I am a physics major who studies religion on the side. Despite my academic interests, I was all business at the Wheel. I credit most of my motivation to my predecessor, Mileen Meyer (22B). Among many things, she taught me the value of consistency, especially in pursuit of keeping the Wheel running. The business team keeps the lights on (not literally, of course — I think Emory pays for our lighting); we work behind the scenes to ensure that printing costs are covered, editors are paid for their time, the website stays hosted and the like. Do not get me wrong, the actual work, which involves generating and shepherding the Wheel’s financial resources, is quite intensive. Unsurprisingly, I am no stranger to sending scores of professionally-worded emails and painstakingly updating a host of overused Excel sheets. Much of the business team’s work revolves around selling advertisement space with the pretense of salesmanship, and, let me tell you, the salesman’s work is no walk in the park.
Like any work, the actual nature of the tasks is secondary to the meaning behind them. Throughout my tenure at the Wheel, I found more fulfillment than you might think in my duties of keeping things running smoothly. These include diligently following our protocols like, for example, invoicing (i.e. the accountant’s bane), innovating when appropriate and problem solving with colleagues. Perhaps what has brought me the most satisfaction, though, is helping my fellow members of the business team grow in their roles.
The sense of accomplishment that comes with reflecting on our big wins, like hosting three smashingly successful Housing Fairs, narrowly finalizing the droves of student advertisements in the Graduation Magazine each year, increasing salaries for editors and raising an absurd amount of money — which I am luckily shrewd enough not to disclose — is certainly sweet. The small wins are almost as rewarding. There is a special feeling that comes with seeing an advertisement you sold printed in Wednesday’s edition and knowing that you played your part in upholding one of Emory’s most lasting and truly essential traditions, the Wheel’s student journalism.
There you have it: a glimpse into my role and the work that goes on behind these neatly, or not-so-neatly, stacked papers you see on campus every other week. Shoutout to all of the business team members who have worked so diligently to keep everything running smoothly, especially to Katie Hu (26B), who is currently killing it as my successor in the role. I have all but packed up and moved on by now, but have no fear: Thanks to all the motivated people behind the helm here, we will continue to keep the lights on.
Hunter Collins (24C) is from Atlanta.
