It has been a very eye-opening 10, 11 months, to say the least.

To start off, I can say I would take nothing back, and I’m thankful this came into my life. In February 2016, our previous editor in chief stepped down, without anyone definitive to take over. I waffled back and forth, initially believing I didn't want to fill those shoes. But, upon further consideration, I figured I would always wonder — the opportunity was there, so why not take it?

But, just FYI, leadership kind of sucks.

Rice is a small school — and a small, STEM-focused school at that — so the struggle is particularly potently felt in such an environment. Many content creators are also my friends, and I have a very difficult time separating roles; I have no doubt they too feel that conflict of interest at times.

It’s so difficult to make people understand just how much you care, just how much you want to see something work, especially if they don’t want it to happen. You can’t make someone do something they don’t want to do. Yeah, it sounds obvious, but truly it’s not something that dawns on you until you’ve had to boss people around and ask people for things. It is one of the hardest tasks in the world to convey to someone how personally important something is to you. It really was a big deal to me that we were putting out content every week, that we were expressing our opinions about things that mattered to us, that we used this as a platform to make our voices heard. And I wanted everyone to experience that, and receive the feedback that I got whenever I did that.

I know people are busy — and especially here, no matter the major, no matter the course-load, people find a way to make themselves ridiculously busy and overcommitted. Trust me, I know. But this was a voluntary thing, something that we all signed up for on our own account. We made the conscious decision — no one was forcing us — to be a part of something beyond Rice. Being EIC made me realize how essential every person is, how vital it is that every person pitch some effort, that every person communicates with me, that every person shows up to a meeting. I never realized before — it makes a difference.

I know it sounds like I hated it, and that I wanted to cry every week. To be honest, some weeks truly did very nearly bring me to tears, or want to throw some heavy-duty servery plates at the wall. I wanted to be understanding, but I needed to be in charge at the same time, and I needed people to realize how hard they were making it for me when they took it upon themselves to think only of their own lives and not me, or the rest of the team.

I know how Odyssey is seen, to this day. I know what some people might think of me. But this was important to me, and I felt very strongly about the team and what we were doing. I had faith in the opinions of people here and who chose to be a part of this, because they’re talented people with great ideas and voices, and I wanted them to be heard. And to be part of something bigger, among writers like them, felt like such a privilege, especially during weeks when powerful pieces were published. Odyssey also taught me not to be afraid to speak my mind. I’ve had to learn to defend myself, to face adversity to at least some degree — above all, to care passionately about my identity.

I remember every single article, and every single writer, come and gone, during my time at Odyssey, beginning in July 2015. I don't care that some people disagree with what was written — I never even cared whether I agreed. All I ever wanted through Odyssey was to express my own passions in some accessible way, through this incredibly accessible platform, and in turn, help others make their voices heard.

I value what you have to say; when I’m abroad next semester, I’ll keep liking all of your guys’ articles and I will keep reading them. Being a part of this has been one of the most amazing privileges; to read your thoughts week after week has honestly made some of my nights. I think every writer on the team deserves to have their voice heard, and so, keep writing. Even when you leave Odyssey behind, keep going, because people should and need to hear what you have to say. I hope that, in some way, to some degree, you valued this experience as much as I did.