There’s no perfect way to start a goodbye column — there’s so much I’ve said, plenty that I’ve left unsaid and lots that I still have left to say. So before I start rambling (as I’m so well-known for doing), let me rip off the band-aid and start with something somewhat upfront and unsettling.

You may not know me, but I know you — and getting to know you has been the highlight of my college career.

I’ve dedicated the last four years of my life to The Sunflower, Wichita State’s student-led news source. In that time, I’ve reported on and photographed the good, the bad, the ugly and everything in between — all to paint a picture of Wichita State University, to document its history and to showcase its people.

Journalism is often a solitary field. There’s a lot of pride, competition and certainly egos involved in the business, from who can break a story first to who has the best photo or who can write a better feature.

But if there’s one thing that I’ve learned during my time at Wichita State, it’s that you can’t go at it alone, and that doesn’t just apply to the newsroom.

I truly would be nothing — or, at the very least, not a very good storyteller — without the vulnerability, time and patience of my sources. Whether willingly or unwillingly, the people featured in my stories or my photos make the story and have made my career, and I’m eternally grateful for that.

I’ve cried with contacts, I’ve belly-laughed with eyewitnesses, and I’ve shared space with remarkable sources. Each of those interactions has brought immense value to my life, value that goes beyond a byline.

From those exchanges came connection, not just with my interviewees, but connection with humanity as a whole. You learn to see people — all people — differently once you’ve seen someone at their best, at their worst or just on a regular Tuesday afternoon.

From my time at The Sunflower, I’ve learned that relationships are key. They are intense, intentional and integral, not only to a journalist but to any individual looking to leave behind a positive legacy. I hope, through my work in and out of The Sunflower, that I’ve done that.

It’s the connections I’ve had with people in newsrooms as well that have made me into the semi-well-adjusted individual I am today. From the encouragement of my high school journalism teacher, Mrs. Ford, to the unwavering guidance from the Elliott School’s Amy DeVault, to my mother, who has become my and The Sunflower’s biggest fan, I truly would not be here today without them.

My amazing staffers, the students I’ve had the pleasure of leading for the last year, will also always hold a special place in my heart. We’ve survived 12-hour newspaper productions, along with covering university scandals and seemingly every piece of breaking news imaginable. But we’ve also grown and learned so much together. It’s been an honor to share a newsroom with you.

I’ve loved every minute and opportunity to connect with and understand you all. I’m excited knowing that there are still so many more people to meet, endless stories to tell and infinite moments to capture.

You’ve all taught me so much, and that’s a gift I can never repay. But I will, to the very best of my ability, use that gift to continue to connect with others, telling their stories authentically and accurately, while maintaining the high journalistic standard set by my predecessors before me.

If you can only take away one thing from this sentimental assortment of thoughts from an editor-in-chief come and gone, it should be this: keep making connections and keep getting to know people. You’ll make yourself, and the world, all the better for it.