At the start of March, I came back from Europe to edit a newspaper.
I’d been over there for half a year. I missed a flight in Dubai, from London, by five minutes, so I had to sleep in the food-court. Because there were no direct flights, I had to go through Perth. I got an apologetic drink voucher at Perth International, and a 5am flight home. It was hot in Sydney, and I was sick, and angry, and tired, and I’d been in the air for over twenty hours (waiting in airports for more than fifteen). I had no phone, a pocketful of foreign change, and a third of a bottle of peach ice tea. The whole ordeal seemed endless. I woke up for a 9am meeting the next day and proofread some articles in a sort of haze. Then twelve weeks passed without me noticing. Welcome to the final edition of Honi Soit for this semester.
We’ve all of us gone through a great deal these past few months. We dragged you through the Union Board elections which ended with a bang and some whimpers. We covered the strikes, the Sydney Comedy Festival, boycotts, divestments, and sanctions. The SSAF and the SUSF. Death on the Internet, female ejaculation, Frank Ocean, awkward Nazis, the Dalai Lama, Courtney Love, missiles, homelessness, grief. The experience of adult ADHD, the politics of cross-dressing, the ethics of charity, the sad passivity of our generation. We’ve received, for our work, some valid criticism and some humbling praise.
I like to think that, as an editorial team, we strive to create something salient and valuable. We wanted to produce a newspaper that spoke to you – the student, tutor, academic – in a world where there is so much spin and rhetoric it numbs. That’s what was on my mind when putting together this edition: what’s important to students, and how some of the most interesting stories and people are closer than we think. So in the same paper where we interview Julian Assange, we also profile the owners of Uni Bros. Alongside a piece about the therapeutic benefits of yoga and antidepressant medication, there’s an article on animal testing in the Science Department, a story on the Carillon in the Quad, the censorship of Woroni, and, most encouragingly, a load of letters.
I’m not claiming that Honi is some model of relevance or reason or anything like that. I’m not saying it’s exempt from the static of mainstream media. But what Honi does, it does well. It gives students the voice that other publications can’t or won’t provide. It gives us a platform for trenchant discourse, storytelling, art, and sentiment. It’s an opportunity for us to say what we like before we start waking up to severe jobs and baffling calendars. It’s the chalk on Michael Spence’s walls.
Take advantage of it. We like to remind you every week but it bears repeating here:
Anyone can write for Honi Soit.