The Villanovan is permanent. 

The titles we have held will permanently remain on our resumes. The editors’ group chats that we’ve spent hours texting in will remain in the depths of our iMessage chains. And the memories we have formed in the basement of Corr Hall will forever be a permanent reminder of the culture and community we have had the privilege to be a part of.

But more than that, the words we write, and the stories we tell, are permanent. 

Everyone says actions speak louder than words, but words have a permanency that actions will never have the ability to compete with. It’s the reason I fell in love with writing from a young age. You can tell a story and not only have your words last forever in a printed newspaper, but you can have the words you say leave a permanent mark on those who take the time to read them. 

I’ve had the privilege to tell a lot of stories during my time as an editor on The Villanovan, but my favorite story of all is the one of how I was afforded the honor of serving as a Co-Editor in Chief in the first place.

My journey began as a staff writer under Meghann Morhardt and Matt Ryan who told me I was going to cover Villanova field hockey. I hate field hockey. But I loved the thrill of seeing my byline in the newspaper every week…so I wrote. 

What was a simple field hockey beat morphed into an opportunity to cover the 2023 women’s basketball Sweet Sixteen run in Greenville, South Carolina. Still in my freshman year, I was now one of the Sports Editors and found myself on the charter flight with Will D. Cat to my left and Graydon Paul, the former photography editor to my right. Graydon would go on to become one of my best friends at Villanova, and will be a future bridesmaid. 

And then I climbed the ranks. Colin Beazley and Vivi Melkonian, who, to this day, are still two of the greatest leaders I have had the privilege to work with, offered me the position of Associate Editor-in-Chief. In all honesty, I hated them for it at the time. It would end up being the greatest thing to happen to me. 

For the two semesters I was Associate Editor-in-Chief, I served one of those semesters abroad. Here’s a pro tip for any future editor who tries to maintain their position with a six hour time difference: making modifications to an InDesign file when you’re drunk off half a bottle of Italian wine at 3 a.m. is not easy. 

And then came the time for Editor-in-Chief applications. I’m not quite sure what I did to deserve the predecessors that were Emma Cahill and Hannah Sweeney, but their taking a chance on me from halfway across the world became a decision that changed the trajectory of my college experience.

So I returned to campus in the Spring of 2025 as Co Editor-in-Chief of The Villanovan, alongside Nicole Liddicoat. I only had one question: who the hell is Nicole? 

I don’t quite know when Nicole shifted from my Co Editor-in-Chief to a lifelong friend. But, what I do know, is that it has been the privilege of a lifetime working with her, learning from her and growing because of her. 

Alongside myself and Nicole was the third member of our Editor-in-Chief team, former Associate EIC, Lauren Armstrong. And oh what a light Lauren is. As I’ve grown, I’ve found that some people in your life will feel like the human form of sunshine. That is a gift. Recognize when they do, recognize who they are and hold on for dear life. Nicole and Lauren are my sunshine. 

And, of course, I would be remiss to not share how much of a role our faculty advisors, Cat Coyle and Michael Bradley played in this story—in my story. 

Cat’s innate ability to make any overwhelming task seem effortlessly simple is a quality I not only admire, but hope to master. She is the backbone of The Villanovan and someone I have come to cherish during my time here. 

And then there’s Mr. Bradley. It’s not often that a professor turns into an advisor, and an advisor turns into a mentor, but to stop there would hardly encompass all Mr. Bradley has done for me. 

He has become my friend. I am eternally grateful for his compassion, guidance and ability to touch the lives of every student who walks through his classroom or contributes to this paper. Mr. Bradley not only changed my Villanovan experience, but my college experience, for the better.

While my Villanovan journey may have come to an end, my story hardly stops here. If anything, it’s just beginning. 

So thank Villanova, and thank you to the Villanovan, for giving me a platform to tell my stories and for the privilege to leave my permanent mark.