THE EDITORS-IN-CHIEF OF THE OTHER PRESS CF pPUGLAS COLLEGE'S NEWSPAPEF OPINIONS EDITOR NAT AZZ EL IN ~ROY Pat write Douglas College-centered stuff,” says Britten, “or even Lower Mainland- focused stuff can be a challenge. Let’s be honest, nobody reads the Other Press to find out what happened somewhere else in the world last week, right? But that’s what people’s Te ObN CGR VN RMON UME ABER N Slabs to them. You have to look for not the most obvious story, I guess. Look for opportunity to localize things.” “If you are a sports editor, go watch the damn Royals play,” Britten adds. “Or if you are the arts editor, you might have to go see a Douglas College play.” The Other Press began in 1976 and it has always struggled to find its place within the Douglas College ecosystem. Splintered from the rest of the institution, the Other Press requires the editor-in-chief to bridge the gap between the different societies and communities, while staying true to the publication’s journalistic values. “Tt’s so rare that anything noteworthy happens,” says Miki, “that if it ever does happen you have to talk about it. We're not a PR magazine for Douglas College. But if we were, then yes, we wouldn't sayanything critical. But if something happened—and it’s true—we have to report on it.” pre OTHEF PFOBLEM? The Other Press is an organization with many moving parts. It’s often hard to keep track of the squeaky wheels.-In an effort to produce a newspaper on a weekly basis, there are going to be mistakes. The lesson is in how one recovers. Consider all the crore take place in a classroom: spelling mistakes, incorrect facts, plagiarisms, etc. All these problems are magnified when it is printed a thousand times and handed out to the general public. WUT eweblco Span om Brae Kel R ALM s issue printed. If there is a problem, there is no hiding and there is no blaming; he or she must face the hard light. “My worst fear was that I was going to do something that would end the newspaper,” says Gibb. “I’m sure CAC oMVesntomarte artim oD TEWOR MTL the opportunity to end it, in that our contract with the college student levy was up for renewal in my term. It happened to come upon a very funny time.” It was a funny time indeed. A humour article mistaken as legitimate news got the Other Pec MUOM NO ACM dR vm eTe| of 2013. Gibb was the editor-in- chief at the time and he received the brunt of the backlash as the article involved the New Westminster Police Department. “If the paper hadn’t been on such strong foundation,” Gibb adds, “who knows what would have happened?” At the time, it was no laughing matter for the publication. But Gibb laughs it off now, reminding us that the words printed on the paper have impact. Being the leader of a media roSuee TONY AL aLOse RMA —1e Moye Crete-so ne VI ITs 5 i the Other Press, carries a certain responsibility. It’s not just for the people who speak out, but for the people who don’t as well. “You focus in on the fact that you get surprised when people say ‘I’m surprised that there is a newspaper at the college,” says Klyne. “Like you are kind of taken aback by that statement. It’s just, you do pour so much of yourself into it, but there are a lot of people who do read and don’t make their voices known or participate, and fava Te om iT Ti mab T uo Le(ouemawe Cem ant Tay fant ele oereMenCrveCe Maelo etre iI tla happy to do that. And it’s our job to just be there and supply that.” JO Cel uh ial) ems ebicey ma beebylon of the Other Press chases the clock, rallying the collective to produce a high-quality publication for the Noe eMC Oost Svc b La RAS first few steps in September orthe last 9 === leg in August;they know their efforts will be visible in print and digital not just for Douglas College to see, but for the whole world. They also know that their time is fleeting. This learning experience they treated wholeheartedly asa “real job” will soon be over. “T feel like there was so much | wanted to do that I never got around to doing,” says Serafini. “There would always be a fire—not a literal fire—to put out. I feel like by the end of my first semester_-was-so exhausted, I was just Lay snot -mco Breet witocamslouorem co aele.) position—put out the next fire.” Nolte VK BMCv OM NeeBKS Ey ei aon You receive the baton—but it’s not really a baton, it’s a fire extinguisher. You are the next editor-in-chief of the Other Press. You want to make your Fuat-VU em DCL e CLE VI MA VOR OUR anKe seven CIEL to make mistakes. If that’s the case, die Yociaeent vw ete cokaeyelars nails legacy, improve the organization Pravaucseetseic-l ihm coymaet Belo cme ntoK-Latosee and allow room for the leaders of the future to solve the problems that are as ingrained into the institution as student apathy. “You don't need to be a born leader for anything,” says Wilkins. “You grow your way into it. You learn things. You figure out how stuff works.” For over 40 years, the Other Press ne YM ose W rb catty eben CMB Lole teats campus community. While it might be considered fringe, because there are no academic programs linked to it, it a necessary part of the institution. The craft of writing, editing, and communicating is a key to professional ila Ce VKC ort Roy m as C Ran CCL ona Cor Var Tao Why does a school have gym? Not because we want our students to become body builders or professional athletes, it’s because we want them to ele Wetec Tean ya bcta dtm Meter vents goes with a student newspaper. It’s not about the product; it’s about the work itself, and it’s about getting better and stronger at the craft. For the editor- in-chief, it’s his or her chance to learn what no course in Douglas can teach, and that is a unique opportunity.