Dear reader,

I’ve sat at this computer for hours, desperately trying to formulate the most magnificent and iridescent line of words that would, within the word-count allotted, change your entire mindscape on a subject I have yet to reach. 

The truth is, dear reader, that I am not perfect. It’s a shame to admit, for I do have my pride just as any other, but it’s true. My writing is not perfect; my pen — or curser to be more exact — makes mistakes, just as yours. 

This paper is not perfect. As an editor, I wish I could say it was, but I realize it would be a disservice if it was perfect, because perfection wouldn’t be truthful to the reality of the ever-turning nature of journalism, let alone our modern society. 

What you must understand, reader, is this paper is made especially for you, by you. You create the stories, the whispers of inked excitement on these broadsheet-columns. You create the headlines, the quotes, the words filling these pages. Us journalists — your peers —  just write them down, that is, with the exception of the opinion pages, which are inspired by you and our world.

Our job as journalists is a job of service — service to you, the public, and service to the truth. We seek truth in every sentence, every interview and in every edition of these six black and white pages. Whether or not we are successful, well, that’s for you to decide.

However, I ask, as you make that decision every Tuesday we send our freshly printed pages throughout the school and the Manhattan community, that you take the time to seek the truth as well, by familiarizing yourself with the particulars of media literacy. 

You see, our job as a publication is to educate you not just on the happenings of Manhattan High, but the processes and deliberations of the practices that allow people to access and evaluate media through critical thinking. Our job is to provide a guide, a weekly learning opportunity, for you to practice and learn the values of truthful media. 

I must also ask of you, reader, that you keep inside your mind, that in no way are we professionals. While we attend to the values of professionalism, at the end of the newscycle, we are just students in a classroom with too many cabinets and not enough chairs. The job of the paper, in conjunction with media literacy, is to educate its staff — including myself — on application-level techniques of communications. And yes, we get a grade for this. 

I cannot promise to always produce a product worthy of an Advanced Placement score of five — sometimes, a word spelled wrong is just a word spelled wrong. 

However, I can promise to produce a product you can rely on to tell your stories and tell your truth to the best of our ability. 

I can promise a product that will be an open forum for your voices and be a voice for those without one. I can promise a product that will never yield in the pursuit of truth and education.

When we rely on each other for this exchange of stories, ideas, education and invoke the values mentioned above, we get a step closer to the true meaning of this great experiment that we have the opportunity to better. I believe we can only do that as long as this partnership remains, as long as we work together in our life-long task.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe my word-count ran away from me some time ago, and I must write farewell.

Until I write again,

“Never yield in the pursuit of truth and education.”