Ember Duke | layout editor

On a Tuesday night in late February, I leaned on the cold, brick wall of Gumberg Library’s basement stairwell, next to Megan Trotter, The Duke’s news editor. It was one of the first nights winter began to shed its snow-coat. The air smelled of the idea of spring. It was the Tuesday before our special 100th anniversary paper and the whole staff was hustling to reign the beast of an issue in.

We watched silently as church mice while Eliyahu Gasson, the opinions editor, made a late night phone call in hopes of snagging Meg an interview with former Duquesne President Charles Dougherty, which she did, in fact, get.

The cold wall stung me through my jacket. At that moment I felt so vulnerable I wanted to cry. That moment, like so many do as a deeply sentimental person, reminded me viscerally that one of the points of this life is to find the people and things which bring a sense of place, wholeness and belonging. It reminded me that life can be beautiful, but it’s always fleeting and it was both sides of that coin which nearly brought me to tears.

I made my way to the newsroom later than some, starting as a casual staff writer at the beginning of my junior year and assuming the role as layout editor at the beginning of my senior year.

Coming into my editorship, I was uncertain of my place both in The Duke newsroom and as a journalist. I wasn’t even sold on the idea of being a career reporter. I mostly wanted a chance to put some words on the page and knew I’d never stand a chance at a job without a couple of solid clips. One thing I’ve always known about myself however, is that I throw myself into everything I do to an extreme — likely an unhealthy coping tactic. Oh well.

So, that’s exactly what I did.

I started spending more time in the newsroom than I did in my own apartment, usually writing two articles a week. I stumbled my way through the fall, trying with every interview to convince myself that I could live up to my colleagues who astound me each week with their news instincts, numerous talents and their devotion to the work. Between deadlines, we all grew, or at least stress-bonded, closely as friends.

Wednesday production nights became the anchor to my week. I’ll admit, I’ve had more breakdowns this year than all of college combined. With every story, I ask myself why I love a job which is so mentally taxing, which requires me to be in wholly uncomfortable positions and conversations on the regular.

Then, I laugh with my friends on Wednesdays as we put the icing on the cake, and Thursday morning, I see my byline on stands around campus and I know, if just for a few seconds, I’m doing something that matters at least a little to the world and my community — screaming into the void in a sense, even if only to hear your echo coming back.

Going into this semester, I knew definitively I was going to pursue journalism post-grad, but I still wasn’t sure in what area my heart lay. As an avid creative writer, I previously figured I’d take to features and a&e — which are wonderful of course, and I have enjoyed writing for them — but it was news which I just simply couldn’t put down.

I recently removed the ‘student’ from my title as ‘student journalist’ on my resume. The Duke quickly took the training wheels off and slapped a press badge in my hand, which I’ve finally grown into. We covered real news this year. We looked into our community (though isolated on the Bluff) and questioned what mattered on and off-campus, tried to put context to a changing national and global era and did all we could to clearly deliver thorough, meaningful coverage every week.

Recently, one of my closest friends reminded me in a moment of self-doubt that the ‘me’ one year ago would not be able to handle even half of what I can now. In my short stint at The Duke, I’ve of course learned more skillswise about being a reporter and my responsibility to the public, but beyond that I have learned what it means to be human and what it means to be an adult.

I was a shy kid. I never could have pictured myself in a job where I have to put myself out there so intensely. But between the lines of copy, I found something of myself which I wasn’t sure existed — a version of me which is assertive and not ashamed of it. Without this paper and the undying encouragement from my friends/colleagues and our advisor Paula Ward, I think it would have taken me much longer to reach the conclusion that my voice is a tool which is necessary on and off the clock.

I don’t think I’d be completely lost without The Duke, but I would certainly be a few steps away from the path I want to take my life.

So now that I’ve bled my heart all over the page, I must address that I am painfully aware of how odd it is that my last name is the same as the paper I work for. People bring it up often and, as a good reporter does, I just have to smile and laugh at myself. It’s the one thing I won’t miss about The Duke.

As I await my imminent graduation, I taste the bittersweet tang of change and feel the dull pain of loss. The future is the death of the present and I am terrified of uncertainty. My heart is heavy with the idea that no matter what we say now, I may not have the same friendships I do now, or that things will change beyond my recognition. That time will pave over the home we’ve built in this newsroom. But then, I try to tell myself I’m just crazy and that love persists in different forms.

Whatever the case, I know joining this staff was one of the best decisions I’ve made. The lifetime I’ve lived in this past year is the foundation to a new city of different homes I’ll have over my career and life — some of which I know will have the same major players as this current one.

Ember Duke can be reached at
dukee@duq.edu.