The Hardest Part of Leaving the Daily Bruin Is Leaving Its People

When a Newspaper Becomes Family

It's strange how one can feel simultaneously connected and disconnected from an institution they've spent years calling home. My last week at the Daily Bruin, the student newspaper of UCLA, was not about deadlines or breaking stories—it was about saying goodbye to people who have become like family.

"The hardest part of leaving the Daily Bruin is leaving its people," I told a colleague just before stepping away from my role as an editor. These words, simple in form, carried the weight of everything we'd built together over months and years.

I didn't expect to feel this way when the time came to exit my position. In fact, I had been preparing for it mentally for a while—making plans, planning my next steps, even thinking about what I'd write in a farewell column. But there was no mental preparation for how much my heart would ache at the idea of walking away from people who helped define who I became as both a writer and a human being.

People Make a Newspaper

While we often talk about journalism being about stories, facts, and truth—these elements alone are not enough to make a newspaper. A newspaper is made up of people. Every edition, every story, every late-night sprint to meet a deadline, happens because of individuals who believe in something larger than themselves.

At the Daily Bruin, this was especially true. For over a decade now, we've worked under the guiding light of editors who understood that journalism isn't just about reporting events—it's about documenting experiences, capturing voices, and holding power accountable. But what makes these values stick isn't policy or training; it's relationships. It's trust.

I remember my first day on staff, feeling overwhelmed by all the moving parts—the meeting schedules, the layout designs, the constant back-and-forth between writers and editors. My mentor, a senior editor at the time, sat me down and said something I've never forgotten: "You're not just learning to be a journalist—you're learning how to be part of a community."

That idea stayed with me throughout my years on staff. Whether it was helping someone finish an article after a difficult family event, or sitting through countless late-night meetings where we discussed everything from editorial ethics to the next big story, these moments shaped not only my professional identity but also how I see myself in the world.

Leaving Behind More Than Just Work

What struck me most when I realized it was time to leave was how deeply I had come to identify with this place—not just as a student journalist, but as someone who belonged there. The Daily Bruin wasn't just my job or my extracurricular activity; it was an extension of my values and ambitions.

As I sat in the old editorial room one final time, surrounded by sticky notes, crumpled drafts, and the familiar scent of printer ink, I thought about how many young journalists had passed through this space before me. There were countless stories shared over coffee, heated debates over article content, and moments of quiet triumph when a story was published. These experiences created something tangible—memory.

Memory is what transforms an organization into a legacy. And in my case, that memory isn't just about the work we produced or the accolades we received. It's about how people supported each other, even when things got tough. It's about how this place gave me a sense of belonging during uncertain times and taught me how to communicate with others across differences in age, background, and opinion.

A Legacy Built on Human Connection

I've often reflected on the phrase "the people" that defines so much of my departure from the Daily Bruin. It's a phrase I keep returning to because it captures something essential about how institutions survive and thrive: not through bureaucracy or process, but through the individuals who pour their lives into them.

Every newspaper is made by people who choose to invest in truth. In doing so, they often sacrifice comfort and time for a mission that extends beyond personal gain. The Daily Bruin gave me that space—a place where I could grow professionally while building lifelong relationships with those around me. It was not just an opportunity to learn about journalism; it was a chance to be part of something bigger than myself.

This is the core lesson I carry forward: that institutions live on through their members, and that no amount of institutional structure can replace the human element that binds them together. When someone leaves, they don't just take their own work with them—they take a piece of what made the whole team possible.

What Comes Next

I'll miss the camaraderie, the deadlines, and the shared goal of creating something meaningful from chaos. But I'm also excited for the journey ahead, knowing that the lessons I learned at the Daily Bruin will guide me in whatever path I take next.

In a world increasingly dominated by technology and automation, we often forget how crucial human connection is to preserving institutions and ideas. The Daily Bruin taught me that the best journalism isn't about speed or sensationalism—it's about empathy, dedication, and community.

So while I'm moving on, I want to leave a message for those still involved in the daily grind of journalism: don't let go of the people around you. They are not just colleagues—they are your foundation. Your work matters, but it only has meaning when it's supported by real relationships, mutual respect, and shared values.

And that's what I will remember most about leaving the Daily Bruin—how much we were able to achieve because of one another.