Julian Brown ’25:
I have been involved in my schools’ publications since I was in middle school. The person who started as a nervous sixth grader fumbling for words and managing to eke out an interview question for my middle school newspaper is now a confident, proud editor-in-chief of The Hotchkiss Record, who has gained a life-long appreciation for journalism. However, none of this came naturally to me.
It took me until the spring of my Prep year to muster up the courage to signvup for my first article. Many interviews, edits, and articles later, I was selected to be a Sports Editor during the winter of my Lower Mid year. The next learning curve was Adobe InDesign, the platform we used to create the layout of the newspaper. After many months of trying to perfect the software (I still struggle with it sometimes), I started to find joy in the arduous, monotonous process of copying and pasting articles into the layout. Then, a year later, I was an Editor-in-Chief, leading the board on top of editing and layout.
Amidst “the grind” of producing the paper, I’ve realized a couple of things about journalism: in a world where misinformation is increasingly prevalent, journalism is an essential tool to combat the spread of it. Second, I’ve learned that all publications, ThevHotchkiss Record included, is merely a documentation of history. Every year, the editorial board changes, but the words, quotes, titles, images, graphics, and credits last forever.
Finally, a reflection would not be complete without giving thanks to the people who have helped me along this journey. Thank you, Nate and Matias, for teaching me the basics. Thank you, Ms. Villano and Mx. Wynn, for helping me appreciate (and enjoy) working for The Record. Lastly, thank you to Anthony and Ethan, I would not have been able to do this without you both.
Anthony Hu ’25:
When I was five, I developed a fear of sleeping. Wrapped in my blanket one night, I was suddenly convinced that a bullet could shoot through the heavy curtains of my 21st-floor apartment and take my life in my sleep. Mother called it insomnia. I later called it many names. It was “The Absurd.” “Impermanence.” Sometimes “Pyrrho’s words ringing on life.” That we brush past this world like autumn leaves, forever swirling, lingering, faltering before the final return to dust.
But I know that, through this paper, I did find a certainty. The power of printed words, pages yellowing in the archives; bonds from unexpected corners, with the eyes of visiting artists, faculty children, or the director of a recycling station; relationships formed within SB202, our freezing second-floor office, that I will cherish long after Hotchkiss. When I realized all of this, after spending countless hours with the heart of an artisan, I had long been transformed.
Think about my life in Lakeville, so much that can be worn, so much—the stars in a hundred eyes, the splashes of freezing water in April, a burning sunset over the scoreboard of Sprole field—that my thoughts cannot confine. I do this work for all these episodes, now captured forever. I can construct another dimension; I will love this place, and its people long after time should steal their memories from me. And so in addition to love and gratitude, I must place in this paper a selfish pride.
Thank you, Ethan, Julian, Ms. Villano, Mx. Wynn, and all who have supported me in this work. We have made something I can keep aging, even as my leaves are buried under this cover of new snow.
Ethan Shin ’25:
If you had told me during my Prep year that “Sorry, I have a Record meeting” would become one of my most frequently used phrases, I wouldn’t have believed you. I still remember my first few articles getting torn to shreds by my section editors, but the idea of walking into the Dining Hall to see papers turned to my article kept me going. Eventually, criticism turned into compliments, and while climbing to the top of the leadership ladder of The Record, I encountered a new challenge: Adobe InDesign. But one horrible first layout and a few YouTube videos later, the purple lines on layout and glitchy text wrap no longer haunt my nightmares.
And while The Record has resulted in countless late nights, I’ve always walked into the Science Building excited for whatever last-minute edits needed to be made. Fifty years from now, when I’m thinking about Hotchkiss, memories of working on The Record will probably be one of the first things that come to mind.
For all the sports practices I’ve had to leave early or the club meetings I’ve had to miss, I’ve never felt upset saying, “Sorry, I have a Record meeting.” In fact, I’ve always said it with a sense of joy. And for that, I have Julian, Anthony, Ms. Villano, and Mx. Wynn to thank. Thank you all for making Sunday evenings one of my favorite parts of the week.
To conclude, I’d like to put a little spin on my oft-used phrase. With my time on The Record winding down, I’m sorry that I’ll no longer have Record meetings. At the same time, I’m excited about what the next editorial board will accomplish. And if anyone reading this is hesitant about writing, I urge you to just put your name down on an article sign-up sheet—it might just become a staple of your Hotchkiss experience.
