There’s an old New York Times column that I re-read every once in a while. It’s all about the ways in which we reveal ourselves to others, and how that vulnerability creates room for the kind of relationships that aren’t dependent on perfection, but on acceptance. As this lede suggests, I am quite fond of this piece, but the final sentence is my favorite part — “If we want the rewards of being loved, we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.” This line was one of the first things that came to mind as I thought about how to put my time at The Cavalier Daily, easily one of the most formative periods of my life, into words.
The Cavalier Daily taught me that real, meaningful connection isn’t about simply being present or playing it safe. It requires openness, sincerity and the courage to be seen as you truly are, flaws and all. In pushing me to embrace that vulnerability, The Cavalier Daily has brought me people who have shown me that true belonging can only come when you lead with authenticity. Because, as cliché as it is, the people make the place. And the people at this place have taught me that letting others in, while not always easy, is always worth it.
The fall of my second year I was having, hyperbolically speaking, a crisis. After realizing that biology was not for me at the end of first year — another cliché, sorry — I was in the midst of a mission to figure out what it was I actually wanted to do. I thought, as someone who enjoyed writing in all capacities, joining the college newspaper was a good place to start.
What I hadn’t expected was that my introduction to The Cavalier Daily — a two-hour Friday afternoon copy shift — would become the space where I felt most at ease on Grounds. We were a group of people who, on paper, could not be more different from one another, that would talk about anything and everything — and I mean everything. Something that was only possible because everyone showed up as themselves, unapologetically — unfiltered, curious and game to listen.
Friday shift was not only the time of the week I looked forward the most, but it was also something that pushed me to share parts of myself that I normally kept hidden behind a false cover of cool indifference. It helped me stop letting the fear of being “too much” or “not enough” prevent me from building bonds and getting candid about what mattered to me. Adopting the Friday shift philosophy made me realize that giving people the chance to see me for who I am doesn’t push them away — it draws the right ones in closer.
It’s how I ended up applying to write for the Arts and Entertainment desk, a decision that brought me a newfound sense of purpose and creativity. It’s how I got to highlight artists in Charlottesville, write about national conversations in culture through my perspective and — very calmly and casually, as I’m known to be — interview Timothée Chalamet and Keegan-Michael Key. By the end of my time as a staff writer, I was no longer afraid of stepping outside of my comfort zone, but instead, was afraid of what I’d miss out on if I didn’t take chances.
The lessons continued when I became desk editor. Naturally, the role gave me a lot of skills — it helped me refine my writing and editing, taught me how to lead and how to be resourceful under pressure. But it was my relationships with the people I worked with that showed me what it means to really invest in something. As one can imagine, things get complicated when your coworkers become your closest friends. But these friendships showed me what it’s like to butt heads with the people you care about, and to work through it rather than doing the easy thing of walking away.
I used to think there was strength in enduring things silently, avoiding uncomfortable emotions and truths. The Cavalier Daily taught me how to have tough conversations, professionally and — truthfully, more often than not — personally. I learned to stand my ground when I was right, admit when I was wrong, acknowledge when I’d been hurt and be willing to forgive. More than that, I learned to be honest about how much it all meant to me.
In doing that, I discovered just how cool it is to let people know how much you care — about your work, your community and the relationships that have changed your life. The Cavalier Daily has instilled that in me better than any New York Times column ever could, and rewarded me with something far greater than I could have ever expected — a home away from home, filled with people who have shaped me in ways I’ll forever be grateful for.
Since this parting shot is all about what the people of The Cavalier Daily have taught me, it would not be complete without some thank-yous. I want to thank the 135th Junior and Managing Boards for all the memories, and the beautiful friendships found in a hopeless place — the Newcomb basement office. I also want to thank my co-editor, Delaney, and the amazing writers of the arts and entertainment desk for their dedication, patience and trust.
Lastly, I must thank two people in particular for being my anchors through everything — Hailey Chung and Mia Tan. You two have brought so much light into my life. I think that for years to come, whenever I think of what it means to be a true friend, I will think of your unwavering care and support. Thank you for the laughs, the cries and, of course, the many gabs. To know you is to love you, and I am so very glad that The Cavalier Daily was the invisible string that tied the three of us together.
These are relationships I never would have formed without the willingness to hold nothing back and the acceptance that you have to take the good with the bad in order to create something great. This is what a place like The Cavalier Daily encourages. In this way, I’m also leaving the paper with something else invaluable — a deep understanding of what it means to commit to something, to fight for it and to appreciate the rewarding, the mortifying and everything in between.
Delores Cyrus was an arts & entertainment editor for The Cavalier Daily’s 135th term.