Empty Pizza Boxes and a Full Heart: Goodbye, Fordham Ram

I attended my first budget meeting for the Ram in the early days of my second semester at Fordham University. I quite literally considered quitting before I’d even started because I was so scared to walk into B-52 alone. I didn’t know anyone who did the newspaper — besides recognizing another first-year’s name in the...

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I attended my first budget meeting for the Ram in the early days of my second semester at Fordham University. I quite literally considered quitting before I’d even started because I was so scared to walk into B-52 alone. I didn’t know anyone who did the newspaper — besides recognizing another first-year’s name in the GroupMe from Instagram, but that doesn’t count.

As I lingered around the McShane Campus Center (then McGinley) basement hallway, the one person whose name I recognized approached me. Turns out, she recognized me from Instagram, too and she suggested we walk into B-52 together. Thank you, Frances; you probably stopped me from walking right back to my dorm room.



I think about this particular moment a lot. I think about how symbolic it is and how much I’ve changed over the past four years. I thought about this moment when I was nervous to walk into B-52 alone in January, but this time because I was walking into my first budget meeting as editor-in-chief.

During my first semester at Fordham, I anxiously turned in my first news article — a mundane piece about Public Safety’s annual security and fire safety report. In my second semester, I rehearsed my two truths and a lie over and over in my head during my first budget meeting as a digital producer, eager to make a good first impression. Yet, in my penultimate semester at Fordham, I am grappling with the fact that my tenure at the Ram is almost up.

Despite being a different person than I was as a first-year when I walked into the Ram room, B-52 looks almost identical. The desktops are the same and there’s still a gratuitous number of chairs. The same musty aroma of old Pugsley’s boxes lingers despite our efforts to deep clean the room over the summer.

There are still no windows. Except now, my past three years at the Ram are displayed on the windowless walls. There’s a photo of our Volume 105 news team from our final production night above the news team’s computers.

Thumbtacked to the wall is Grace Galbreath’s first ever infamous “GG’s Crossword,” right next to our running tally of the number of times Evan has mentioned his hometown, Boston. There are countless incomprehensible quotes from when we were all delusional at 2 a.m.

and coloring pages from when we patiently (or impatiently?) waited for our print edits. Our closing times from the past 21 issues, most infamously that first 4:44 a.m.

finish time, are documented on a large whiteboard. All these mementos, some lacking context more than anything, are a testament to the tradition and culture of The Fordham Ram. In an effort to console myself, I recently watched the episode of “Gilmore Girls” when Rory steps down as editor-in-chief.

In a spiral, Rory says, “Everything is just ending. I just feel like everything is gonna be over. I’m done at the paper.

Soon I’m going to be done at Yale, and it’s like I’m standing on this cliff, looking out into this huge, foggy abyss.” Rory perfectly encapsulates how I feel about my time at the Ram ending — how I feel about graduating in a few months. The Ram is a place for Fordham students to create, write and do journalism, but it’s also where I’ve made some of my closest friends.

My college experience is synonymous with the Ram. Running this newspaper is not an easy job, and there are countless people whose hard work is the reason we pull together a paper each week. Thank you to Volume 106’s lovely e-board: Allison, Hannah, Evan and the two Graces.

Thank you all for everything you poured into the newspaper every week and for gracefully pivoting when I made mistakes. Hannah and Cailee, I could not have endured long copy and production nights without our seemingly endless conversations. Hannah, thank you for swiveling your chair closer to my desk so we could talk more.

I don’t know how I went two years at this paper without you as a friend. Evan, thank you for always being a calm voice of reason and consistently bringing your wit and fake Southern accent to the Ram room. Finally, thank you, Allison.

When my friends asked me how my first semester as editor-in-chief went, I told them I couldn’t have done it without you. I know your tenure as editor-in-chief is going to be absolutely perfect, and I cannot wait to read all about it. Thank you to The Fordham Ram for teaching me the value of journalism, gifting me some of my favorite friendships and most importantly, giving me plenty of material to use in job interviews.

While I haven’t settled on how I’m going to spend all my newfound free time next semester, what I do know is that I’ll continue to pick up a copy of the Ram every Wednesday morning..