A Breakup Letter with The Harbinger | Xoxo, Moore

Dear Harbinger,

It seems that the time has come for us to part ways. I’m not ready to break up with you for good, so for now, here’s a little sentiment that I’ll send myself off with:

I never knew journalism was what I was meant to do, and without Tate’s prompting, the nefarious J-1 entry-level course and a big gulp of my pride, I never would have found out.

As I sit here, attempting to consolidate a list of the greatest things you’ve brought me into a 400-word column, sweet Harbinger, all that comes up is a foggy whirlpool of Tate’s five-minute lectures, late nights spent PDFing your pages and unforgettable memories with the staff of 70 I now call family. 

So I guess a list of thank-you’s will do.

Thank you for teaching me the power journalism holds to change the way people see the world. I would never know the inspiring stories of my classmates, peers and community if it weren’t for your sections giving me a space to tell them. Thank you for allowing me to realize my true passions — storytelling and communicating. Thank you for showing me the difference between a lede and lead, and that showing is always more powerful than telling. Thank you for allowing me to explore my creative side and a special shoutout to the incredibly talented Lila Tulp for forcing me into designing a basic page, ultimately leading me to my true career intention. 

I’m a new person because of you. I’m someone who can empathize better with others and see that there’s more to someone’s story than what’s on the surface. The tears and 2 a.m. thoughts of ‘Why am I doing this?’ finally make sense. 

Because you have made me, me. Harbinger makes Moore, Moore. I’m a journalist. I’m a storyteller, a writer, designer, a communicator.

I’ve mastered the nickname game, the competitive battle of whose desktop is whose, how to seamlessly compile interviews into a story, and despite the absurd cliché and cheesiness of this — I really have found my calling. And that’s thanks to you, Harbinger. It’s thanks to you, the pages we create and the people who fill those chairs in room 413B. So even if it is time for us to break up, you will forever have a piece of me — in these pages, and in my heart. 

And to little Ceils, Snewt, Soph, Woody and all the other Har-babies who have somehow taught me more than I can teach them, go be great, and don’t forget that soon, you too will be suffering through the life-altering breakup with The Harbinger, so make your time worthwhile. 

With love,

Moore