The BV affords EIC a strong voice

I’ve been a part of the The Bona Venture since my freshman year, when I was invited to join as a staff writer by a friend living on the same floor of Robinson Hall. I was living on a floor of all journalism majors, so I really shouldn’t have been surprised by the forced, journalistic call to action.
I didn’t know what to expect, but I knew I enjoyed writing. I’ve come to understand that open-mindedness is the sole requirement for joining the staff here – and that offering of unlabeled possibilities is what I’ve grown to love most about the newsroom.
After serving in every position of the Features section, I committed to working as a managing editor – with absolutely no intention of eventually becoming a co-editor-in-chief. I’d seen the stress the job can induce firsthand and that was enough to steer me away. Like The BV tends to do, though, the thought of an academic year without consistent writing, reading and comradery in shared vision locked me into the job. I was sold on the position this past fall, all because I didn’t know a St. Bonaventure without THE Bona Venture.
I’m happy I made that commitment. I’m grateful I’ve had the chance to work alongside such driven people. And, admittedly, I owe a lot to the stacks of, now, yellow-tinted papers overtaking my off-campus bedroom.
I’ve learned, as humans, we all have a pace and medium for finding our voices. Some develop one early on. For others, it takes a lifetime. My process was indefinitely sparked in The BV’s reassurance that I have thoughts worth sharing.
The Bona Venture gave me a platform to share my darkest, brightest, dulled and loudest thoughts unapologetically. At the press, my thoughts were slammed into reality as my inspiration – in the form of ink – became one with layer upon layer of paper. And, over the past three years, those personal sentiments have landed in thousands of hands. For me, that kind of transparency was once unimaginable. Now, it’s a survival tactic.
The Bona Venture has connected me to my favorite, contemporary photographer in The MoMA, led to dozens of email connections with estranged faces that carry similar stories and, admittedly, given way to uncomfortable conversations with opponents of my virtues. Too, the paper has taught me there’s an equal amount of beauty and opportunity in embracing those moments of conflict; at those times of questioning, we learn the most about what we know to be true.
After coming out to my friends, family and, eventually, the entire campus community, the first instances of me sharing my experiences of identity and self-worth were on The BV’s pages in a semester-long column. The paper, in an entirely physical and mental sense, allowed me to turn what I once saw as my biggest shortcoming into a chance to show others that authenticity is our greatest offering as humans.
See, the flexibility The BV offers – to write about what concerns you, impassions you, intrigues you and generally fuels your human experience – amazes me. Plus, in doing so, you’re granted entrance into a family of staff members, all charged by a desire to tell stories that need to be told, stories that too often go untold.
The Bona Venture gave me a chance to voice what I’d long kept in, inform those around me and, generally, make an impact. That tradition started long before me, too – 1926 to be exact.
Given the hands both Christina and I are leaving this paper in, I’m fully confident that tradition will push forward relentlessly, informing this campus and, whether we see the ripples or not, this world.