This Valentine's Day, "The Post" staff gives thanks to those that have made the mistake of loving us.
Don’t go falling in love with journalists. Don’t even regard us as friends. We’re a bad breed.
I say that because it’s almost Valentine’s Day and latching on to the nearest warm body is quite in vogue. I also say that because I’m uniquely qualified to do so as not just The Post’s editor-in-chief, but also as its esteemed former Bed Post columnist. Allow me to put on my romance columnist hat for a second, if you will. I’ve missed it dearly.
Here in Baker 325, I see some pretty appalling things from the journalists I regard as “Posties,” forgetting momentarily that others regard them as loved ones. The newsroom is our safe space. Somewhere in the process of producing a daily paper, we go a little bit insane, eat a lot of disgusting food and wear the same outfit more than once a week. It happens. That’s our newsroom.
I don’t want to speak for the whole lot of us, but I know that at some point during my brief career as a student journalist, the most romantic phrase a person could utter to me became “Should we just order in?” or “I’ll pay for this one.” Date nights turn into “let’s talk about the morbid, in-the-weeds story I’ve been working on while I eat my meal, part of yours and reply to several messages from fellow Posties.” I forget to wash my hair sometimes. If I bothered to look nice one day, it likely was because I had a meeting. If I couldn’t bother, it’s because I knew I’d be seeing my boyfriend and probably no one else.
We’re lucky that anyone loves us.
So this Valentine’s Day, let’s give thanks to those that have put up with us. Here’s a message from our Posties:
Emily Bohatch, news editor
To Lucas, It's OK that you made fun of me on your first day back at the Post last spring and stole my desk (even though I had already filled the drawers with delicious snacks). I'm mostly over it. We may not have always agreed on whether something was a story, but I'm glad that we share an appreciation of hard-hitting manatee journalism and the Washington Post's political valentines. You're the only guy who thinks watching the debate is the perfect date, and I love you for it, dork. Enjoy your real job with no snow. Love, Emily
Nora Jaara, news reporter
Logan, thanks for waiting when I say I need to go into the newsroom to finish some stuff up and edit — and that it won’t take long — but it actually takes an hour. It's pretty cute that you started saving copies of The Post when I have a front page story. You show your support in a million little ways. It’s also cool that you watch West Wing with me. And X Files. And that you tolerate all those posts about dogs I like on Facebook that consequently show up on your timeline.
Luke O’Roark, sports editor
Dating is stupid, but news is not. So who needs a girlfriend when you have breaking news? But real talk, Elyse Lutz, you probably won't see this, so who cares, but you're beautiful.
Clare Palo, social media editor
Dear #socialsquad, my social princesses, my social QUEENS,
I heart you all so much. My love for you and your hard work is always #trending. Always stay above the algorithm, my tweethearts! <3 Clare
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Arielle Berger, director of photography
To my roommates Juli and Sarah, I am sorry for the amount of time I spend at The Post instead of at home with you. I know I have missed out on nights out, nights in, cleaning the house and taking the trash out while I was busy at The Post. Thank you for putting up with my mental breakdowns and my insane behavior after a long day’s work. Thank you for being my valentines even though I come home from The Post and chase you around with sweatpants on my head because I went insane. I love you Roomies. P.S. I also am sorry for telling you news about Athens and OU that means absolutely nothing to you or anyone that isn’t a news nerd.
Megan Henry, news reporter
The morning of the Union Street fire, I headed out with a notebook and pen in hand to help cover it. While I was standing across from the smoldering buildings, I struck up a conversation with a redhead who six months later became my boyfriend. Michael and I have now been dating for about nine months. During our first conversation, we discovered that we are both from Perrysburg, and we actually went to preschool together. Small world, huh? Even though he is studying abroad in France this semester, he continues to read The Post and always is supportive of me. Thanks for being such a great guy, Michael! I love you and happy Valentine’s Day!
Sam Howard, digital managing editor and Olivia Hitchcock, copy chief
We spent Olivia’s 21st birthday lunch eating in the Post conference room. That sums up our relationship pretty well. We met through The Post, became friends because of The Post, started dating while working alongside each other at The Post and yes, we’ve fought over The Post. Like many of our peers, we’ve sacrificed our relationship for The Post. Stories about our days often turn into conversations about how we can write an article about (insert random thing a professor, friend, stranger said). And we really wouldn’t have it any other way. The Post is where we fell in love, so it always will be important to us — despite all the roadblocks and obstacles it has thrown our way. It gave us our first conversations and footing on common ground, and ultimately it provided the foundation upon which our relationship was built. Cheers to our final weeks arguing about what should be the top stories on the website.
Emma Ockerman, editor-in-chief
Allan, I’d say more, but I hit my word count long ago. You might call that an excuse, but I call it dedication. You deserve better, but you’ve got me. Love, Emma.
Rebekah Barnes, managing editor
Dear Mom and Dad, I'm sorry I don't answer your texts. P.S. — I'm still alive. Love, Reba/Rebs.
Emma Ockerman is a junior studying journalism and editor-in-chief of The Post. Have you made the mistake of loving a journalist? Let her know by emailing her at eo300813@ohio.edu or tweet her at @eockerman.
