When I was 18 years old, my mom took me to Serendipity 3, a restaurant on the Upper East Side. Our excursion followed a particularly overwhelming bout of college applications during my senior year of high school. She told my teachers that we were touring colleges — and technically, we were — but the trip was also my chance to channel Ferris Bueller while frolicking around the early spring lawns of Central Park and the hallowed halls of the Museum of Modern Art. Ever since that trip, I have harbored an intense affection for serendipity and everything that shares its name, savoring memories of the restaurant, the romantic comedy and the hopelessly charming idea that anything meant to find you inevitably will.
Joining The Emory Wheel felt like one of those fated things. I stumbled across a copy of the newspaper the first time I walked past the Emory University Quadrangle and became captivated by the concept that words — so intangible and transcendental in nature — could be so palpable, inked onto the pages of a print edition and circulated all over campus. As a first-year student at Oxford College, I poured my heart into my column, using writing to bridge the divide between the Oxford and Atlanta campuses. At Emory, I have had the privilege of working as an opinion editor, piecing together drafts of writers’ innermost thoughts and feelings. As my tenure comes to an end, I consider it a stroke of luck to have been tasked with safeguarding the right to share meaningful storytelling, especially during this divisive time. In the face of political shifts and challenges in the media landscape, I still believe that dedicated storytelling must persist.
Perhaps no writer captures the essence of stories as well as Joan Didion.
“We live entirely, especially if we are writers, by the imposition of a narrative line upon disparate images, by the ‘ideas’ with which we have learned to freeze the shifting phantasmagoria which is our actual experience,” Didion writes in her introduction to “The White Album.”
My experience at Emory so far has felt like running as fast as I can while simultaneously holding my breath and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like Didion, I turned to writing to try to make sense of uncertainty, both in the world and on campus. It is exhausting to attempt to rationalize the shifting allegiances, scandals, miscommunications and subtle jabs that comprise life in college. Words have offered me a sense of control and a way to parse the chaos together.
While I have found purpose in my identity as a writer and student journalist, unfortunately, the broader journalism industry is currently in a state of disarray. The White House announced last week that its officials will decide which outlets will regularly cover President Donald Trump — a move that symbolizes an incursion on the enshrined right to a free press. The fact that trust in the media is at a historic low exacerbates the consequences of this decision.
Opinion journalism is also in trouble. On Feb. 26, The Washington Post’s opinion editor David Shipley resigned after owner Jeff Bezos issued a directive to no longer publish opposing viewpoints and instead exclusively publish opinions in favor of “personal liberties and free markets.” Problems in the media also exist at Emory, albeit on a smaller scale. Over the past year, I have seen the Wheel rise and fall in the ranks of campus opinion, lacerated for misleading headlines and then lauded for detailed reporting just weeks later. I have often heard students — usually those jaded by this publication’s coverage — proclaim that nobody reads the Wheel.
I know that isn’t true because I have seen what the Wheel is capable of firsthand. The Wheel has called attention to inadequacies in Emory’s housing, transportation and even elevator safety. The Wheel has forged friendships and taught me the true meaning of resilience — that committing to something means putting your best foot forward, even if it keeps you in the Alumni Memorial University Center offices until 4 a.m. The Wheel has also led me to messaging a stranger on Instagram, which somehow transformed from a fortunate meeting in Kaldi’s Coffee at the Emory Student Center to a series of daily Zoom calls to Sweden.
At times, however, the Wheel has felt incredibly isolating. Amid tensions on campus related to the Israel-Palestine conflict, I have often felt at odds with my identity, wary of voicing opinions too loudly — and eliciting accusations of bias — while also attempting to hold those around me accountable. There is no denying that journalism can often feel like a quixotic endeavor, but telling stories remains important to ensuring that vital perspectives are heard.
Despite these challenges, the Wheel’s offices were the first place at Emory where I felt like I really belonged, and that is how it should be. A newsroom is inextricably linked to a democracy and is critical for information gathering and dissemination. The Wheel’s newsroom, and by extension, any college newsroom, should be accessible and open to the public. And, in light of recent attacks on diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives, newsroom leaders will need to work twice as hard to ensure that these spaces are reflective of the communities they serve. While I am leaving my role as an opinion editor, I feel lucky that this piece will join a litany of love letters to the opinion section. All storytelling is important, but there is a special kind of magic in advocacy journalism, the kind of writing that has been used to fuel social movements and shape policy. I am proud of the way different perspectives have interacted on the opinion pages, and I hope these viewpoints have encouraged reflection and consideration among the Emory community.
The first piece I ever wrote for the Wheel was an article inspired by Taylor Swift, so it seems only fitting that I return to her words before my imminent retirement from editorship. In “The Trick to Holding On,” a poem by Swift for British Vogue, she writes, “Life nearly ran you off the road … Suddenly you’ll know / The trick to holding on / Was all that letting go.” I am letting go of the Wheel with an open heart and a sincere belief in the best that storytelling has to offer. My time here has allowed me to finally feel comfortable taking chances on myself. I may no longer spend my Tuesday nights putting together the layout for the Wheel’s print editions, but I will continue to look for stories everywhere — on the shuttles that take us to and from Woodruff Circle, in the morning chatter at Kaldi’s and among the flickers of early spring sunlight on the Quad. If you believe in the power of good journalism as ardently as I do, consider doing the same. Strokes of luck can transpire at any moment, and I am sure my next adventure will inevitably find me.
Contact Safa Wahidi at safa.wahidi@emory.edu.
Safa Wahidi (she/her) (23Ox, 26C) is from Sugar Hill, Georgia, and is double-majoring in political science and creative writing. Outside of the Wheel, Safa has worked at Spoon University, Forsyth County News and CNN International. Previously, Safa’s pop culture column “Wahidi’s What’s Happening” won first place nationally at the Society of Professional Journalists Mark of Excellence Awards. In her free time, you can find Safa exploring nearby bookstores and brunch spots.
