By Maria Hayes
Associate Editor in Fall 2011
Every BV editor has a moment where he or she makes an impression on the rest of the staff. Some people throw yardsticks at features editors. I cried over a crossword puzzle.
Back when I was assistant features editor, The BV had the “Bona Boggle” — a crossword puzzle sent from hell to mess with the features section every week. It wasn’t my responsibility until then-features editor Amanda Klein had me do it.
The first night I tried to put the damn thing together, the font on the page was so small I could barely read it. It was 3 a.m. and, I admit, I didn’t care enough to zoom in to see what I was doing. A short time later, then-managing editor Ryan O’Reilly came out of the copy editing room with the page in his hand. Every other word was spelled wrong.
I started laughing. My laughing became hysterical and turned into tears, unfortunately for poor Ryan, who probably thought it was funny until I started crying. And that was how I made my BV debut — a crazy little sophomore who cried because she couldn’t spell the word ‘Tuesday.’ I hope people began to think better of me after that little fiasco, but that’s something only they can answer.
During my time at The BV, I worked in three sections as an editor — Features, Online and Opinion. Each came with its own separate challenges, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t get through without my fellow BVers. It’s safe to say that beat-up old newsroom on First Rob changed me for the better.
My first mentors were Kristy Kibler, Alex Fioravanti and Ruth Harper — three awesome ladies who were great role models for timid, impressionable freshmen. They rocked. They were sassy. Watching them gave me the courage to find my own voice.
That led to Features, the giggliest, sassiest section at The BV. Feats was where I wrote my first story (which was so bad Amanda was listed as a co-writer). It taught me AP style, how to write and how to listen in. Watching puppy videos and giggling sounds ridiculous, and believe me, it was. I might have switched sections several times, but Feats girls are forever.
That’s not to say Op-Ed wasn’t a good time. I was so excited and proud to lead a section of my own, and Op-Ed didn’t disappoint. A special thank you to Chris Graham and Mary Best for putting up with me and comforting me after I learned some unfortunate news about a popular singer.
I didn’t know anything about sports before I joined The BV. After hours of sitting on the mesothelioma couch listening to the Sports guys talk basketball, I finally know what a free throw is (maybe). I also know getting hit in the head with a football hurts. A lot. Thanks for buzzing my tower, guys.
When I started at The BV, I was stressed out all the time (and prone to meltdowns over crossword puzzles). The ridiculous conversations and antics that came from the likes of Bryan Jackson and Mike Vitron helped remind me that life (and The BV) isn’t all about work — it’s about the good times, too.
I graduated from Bona’s this past December, and when I think of Bona’s, I think of The BV. I remember sitting in a room working on a page and having Tim Gross turn off the light and slam the door. Every time I see a T-square, I feel a little awkward. Whenever the radio plays Justin Bieber, I’m screaming the lyrics with Amanda and Kait Laubscher, standing on a couch in their office.
If it wasn’t for The BV, I wouldn’t be who I am today. I wouldn’t have a job, either — I’m proud to say I’m working as a reporter alongside Kristy, my boss. My parents always say The BV was the best thing that happened to me at Bona’s. They’re right.
If I listed all of the people I wanted to thank, this editorial would be 2,000 words long. Since that’s probably unacceptable, I’ll take the time to mention a few key people.
To my parents and my sister — you’re the reason I keep going. Without your support, there’s no way I would have made it past freshman year. Thank you for reading everything I’ve ever written. I love you so much.
To Sarah Schweiger — thank you for not punching me in the face when I came back from the newsroom at 3 a.m. and woke you up. You’re such a wonderful friend — you’re my world.
To Amanda Klein — thank you for pulling me into this mess. Without you, I wouldn’t have had the courage to join The BV. And without you, I wouldn’t have the very best friend anyone could ever have. It’s been a pleasure giggling with you.
To the faculty and staff of St. Bonaventure University, especially the wonderful people in the J-school — thank you for your infinite wisdom, for letting me sit in your office and talk, and for making sure I ate lunch. Most especially, thank you for your critiques and your advice. Thank you for caring about us.
To everyone I interviewed, spoke with and wrote about while I worked with The BV, especially the friars at St. Bonaventure — thank you for giving one little BV reporter the time of day. I carry a little bit of each story I write with me. I hope I did something for you in return.
And to everyone who reads The BV — you’re the reason we stay up until 4:30 a.m. sweating over kerning and headlines. We live for the moment you pick up The BV. Our exhausted little souls swell with pride when you share us with a friend. Without you, we wouldn’t mean anything.
During my last week as opinion editor, disaster struck. It was 3:30 p.m., a few short hours from the 5 p.m. deadline, and another campus media source posted the same editorial I was running on one of my pages. I was left with 600 words to fill. If there was a time to cry, that was it.
I didn’t cry. I found content to fill the space. I turned in my pages. Life went on.
That’s the BV way.
hayesmr@bonaventure.edu
