Senior Column: Kaleigh Koc

I’m not going to tell you that the Harbinger is my life.

I didn’t dream of being editor-in-chief. I didn’t step into the back room and feel an overwhelming sense of belonging. I didn’t even want a journalism-related career.

I joined sophomore year not to pursue journalism but to add to my resume — I wanted to be a nurse after all, so I was content staying in my tidy little comfort zone.

If you would have told me freshman year that Harbinger would give me the ability to strike a conversation with baristas, confidently speak in front of a 40-person classroom and befriend some of the most unusual people I’ve ever encountered (Annabelle Cook, please start using a fork when you eat), I would have probably just awkwardly laughed.

However, joining The Harbinger has unexpectedly became the most influential decision of my life so far.

I joined staff without any friends and contemplated quitting after each semester. I dreaded the bi-weekly brainstorms. I practiced pitching my story ideas, and when the time came for me to talk, I had to sit on my shaking hands.

But I kept reapplying. Hearing people’s stories and having the opportunity to put them into words gave me a determined, soul-gripping feeling. Everyone has unseen struggles, and I fell in love with the idea of learning about them.

The forensic science teacher who watched her newborn son fight for his life. The outgoing youth group member battling an anxiety disorder. The soccer prodigy on the phone with his mother in the Virgin Islands as Hurricane Irma destroyed his childhood home. Finding hidden stories helped me, in turn, find myself.

Instead of listening to AP chemistry lectures, I planned out stories in my head. I could spend two hours working on a feature and forget about all my post labs and SR2QRs.

Finally, I stopped and asked myself why I would spend 10 years studying something I didn’t love. Sure, I could be happy being a doctor, but my STEM pursuits were just a summer fling compared to my long-term relationship with journalism.

Last year, I was named co-online editor-in-chief to our 90-person staff. I took a step back and realized there was a reason for this. I wasn’t supposed to do something in the medical field.

Now, I try to imagine my life without The Harbinger. A life without always having a new story to tell or a new skill to gain.

I couldn’t. I can’t. And I won’t.

The Harbinger isn’t my life. But it did change it.