I’m no stranger to shaking things up.
Taking the path uncharted, trying something new — truth be told, staying the same scares me. I’m afraid that if I don’t keep moving, I will never truly make my mark.
When the idea of switching to a broadsheet first floated by my desk, I never truly understood how hard that would be or what that process would even look like. I had a smile on my face and a can-do attitude. Sure, this would be easy, breezy, beautiful, Covergirl.
We set our switch for the start of this spring, but as winter break rolled around, Caden and I realized the Beacon’s resources for how much “new” we could handle were spread too thin. I agreed to chip away at the broadsheet as she handled the new website. So, with a new deadline geared toward spring break, we started our broadsheet journey.
The hardest part for me was feeling truly in the dark throughout the whole process.
I like feeling like an expert. I like feeling smart. But I fear nobody knows what dumb is until they’re fumbling around in Adobe InDesign trying to figure out what the point of the “Fol inside Blank” is — and truth be told, I still couldn’t tell you.
Despite every website contradicting the last so-called broadsheet “expert” and way too many tutorials whose processes have aged in the decade or so since publication, I persisted and created “Prototype 1.” This version served as a means of escapism for me during the cold, harsh Michigan winter, as I played around and tinkered with it until I could return to school.
She became a solid, never-quite-perfect prototype that underwent various facelifts and touch-ups. I finally felt like I had found my footing, like a caveman who had discovered fire. I had finally done it.
Until I learned it was all the wrong size.
And it turned out OK. I fixed it. Sometimes you have to take a deep breath and keep on going.
Since that very incident, there have been too many fixes made as elements are still being tested and played with, and we publish in T-minus two weeks. This paper is going to be a big project — we knew that.
Sometimes you have to let go of what’s comfortable in exchange for what you want long term. Our long-term goals for this paper are better aligned with the direction the broadsheet can take us.
I am so proud of and thankful for my design team — the work they do is incredible week after week, but they are growing beyond what tabloid can offer. It’s time we move outside of that tiny square box and really see where we, as a team, can expand our creativity.
Needless to say, this remains a major work in progress. Throughout this semester, you will see the paper change dramatically as we continue to get a handle on this shift in media. All I ask is that you give the design team some grace. We try our hardest week after week, so if something slips through the cracks — most likely and unfortunately the crossword — understand that we are students, too.
And if I get a graphic to span the entire page — snaking around text columns — before we leave for summer break, it will have all been worth it.
Art deserves a place in this world, and I believe it’s my job to make room for it.
