Dear Reader, 

As I write this last letter, I take in the view of the duck pond in the fading light, remembering how I struggled with my first letter as Editor-in-Chief in this very spot. It has become my habit to sit here after every publication, quietly congratulating myself and taking a moment to breathe before my next responsibilities come flooding in. There’s something about this bench that seems far removed from the bustle of the campus. Here, I can stop to feel the summer breeze, listen to the honks of the geese sailing through the water, and just let my mind wander. 

I never had any plans to write for the school paper when I started at KAIST; I have always been reluctant to share my writing, conscious of how my words would be perceived and judged. I never expected to become an editor, either — but I remember being convinced by the previous editors to take the position with the promise that the workload was not too bad and that most of the work happens on one weekend every month. None of that was true, but their emphatic assurances that everything will be worth it were.

The past two years of my editorship have not been easy, nor were they predictable. I’ve stayed in the clubroom until the ungodly hours of the morning, consumed huge amounts of caffeine, and been escorted back to dorm by campus police (after spraining my ankle on the front steps of the Undergraduate Library that one time). There have been times that I agonize over every negative comment, blame myself for every small mistake, and question every decision I’ve made. I pushed myself to do more each month, certain that the Herald can and must do better, only to feel disappointed when all our efforts go unnoticed or elicit snide comments. Above all, there has been a constant desire and struggle to engage more with the KAIST community, because that is what The KAIST Herald is: a platform for unheard voices, controversial yet informed debates, and discussions that can catalyze change.

Perhaps these challenges naturally come with the job description. But as difficult as it was, leading the Herald has truly been a privilege; I have earned much more than I have given. I often joke that the Herald gives me the best excuse to procrastinate; my academics often take a backseat every editing weekend, justified by the need to meticulously prepare each publication. But it’s more than that — the Herald has become a platform for me to talk about the issues I care about, and to remind me that there is a world outside of my studies. Reading each and every article in this paper, I have witnessed the time and care each reporter puts to their words. Through their articles, I’ve stayed up-to-date with current KAIST issues, learned about important issues around the world, had my feelings validated by personal columns, and grown my to-watch list with cultural reviews. And though at times draining, the process of picking at every word and punctuation to best deliver these important messages through writing has been enjoyable. 

I started out unsure of whether my words and those in this paper will even be read. Now at the end of my term, as I reflect on the decreasing stack of papers in newsstands around campus or the increasing number of article views on our website, I realize that what we do truly matters. And I have no doubt that the next Editors and Heads will do an even better job of fulfilling Herald’s purpose. 

Thank you, dear Reader, for making this journey worth it. 

Signing off, 

Jaymee Palma 

Editor-in-Chief