Mary Gagen: Harbinger taught me to stick up for myself through hardship

Tate says I’m not supposed to write a senior column if I don’t have anything important to say. 

What is important? Who cares? Are rhetorical questions cliché? 

This is the first time I’ve been given a story entirely focused on me. Seemingly ironic, as that’s what Harbinger has taught me: to listen to myself. 

But here I am. I’m making it up as I go. 

I joined this program as a sensitive 15-year-old. I had a lot of opinions, but a fear of confrontation and the overwhelming urge to impress my editors. 

It didn’t take long to realize stepping on toes is part of the process. The J-room was a place to fend for yourself — especially when it came to the snack drawer. I wouldn’t have lasted if I didn’t quickly learn to advocate for myself. 

During my time on staff, I’ve had to justify my every move. I’ve owed apologies to Tate, to editors, and to @smebarstool on Instagram (who has shockingly strong opinions for someone who’s never attempted journalism). 

I don’t think I could love and hate one thing as much as I have Harbinger. 

In this program, I’ve experienced the duality of freeing exploration and expression and the most tear-triggering critiques of my life. Tate is probably typing one up for this right now. I can almost see “This isn’t your best work,” or “Quit the clichés” on a document shared with the entire staff, paired with his signature facepalm emoji.  

But in that, I’ve learned to take it with a grain of salt. Afterall, who else really cares? Part of the critiques is taking what applies and leaving the rest of the nonsense. It’s not worth crying over. 

During my time on staff, I’ve unlocked every possible Harbinger position: writer, designer, videographer, photographer and social staffer. I was really bad at some of them. So, I failed and moved on. I didn’t have time to linger.

There’s something beautiful about the work that goes into every story, despite all of the “critiques” — some make you feel proud, and some remain negative examples in the J-room for months. 

I doubt I’ll ever find myself in another place where I’m both as excited and horrified to be there as I am when walking into room 400.

At the end of the day, I learned that I’ve got my own back, and I’m proud of that. I’d do it again, tears and all.