ne thousand, eight hundred and forty eight. That’s how many pages of debate have gone out to print under my editorialship over the past two years. I had to triple check that number because it blew my mind – twice. It seems like it was only a few months ago that I sat down in my oversized chair (R.I.P. giant chair) and almost hyperventilated at the task of putting together a magazine in less than a week. But while it seemed impossible several times, all 51 issues have made it through design and constant edits to come out on stands. Give me a second while I process this… Ok, I’m back. I suppose now would be a good time to say I won’t be returning to the debate throne next year. I know, you can all break out your tissues in anguish. It’s been an amazing two years and the best first job anyone could ever ask for. After all, what other first job could you say that you were your own boss (of course I had my managers keeping me in check, but it sounds cooler this way). I got to come up with the magazine’s concept every week and decide what content I wanted in there. I interviewed international artists and attended events alongside reviewers who have been writing for 20+ years. When people asked me what I did for a living, I got to watch them be dumbfounded when a 22-year-old replied, “I’m an editor”. But now it’s time to pass the literary and metaphorical torch onto someone else. Despite all the scary notions of change, I’m sure most of you will be stoked to get a new flavour into debate next year. After all, how many ideas are really left in my head? But like those before me, I’m not leaving without a few thank yous. Firstly, I need to thank every single person who has contributed to debate in some way over the past two years. You’ve put up with my pleading content emails each week, some of which didn’t make sense (remember that time I spelled my own name wrong in an email? Good times) and have helped shape debate to the masterpiece that it is today. Without all you political nuts, sports junkies, music aficionados, movie buffs, current affair gurus, ranting letter writers and stunning artists, debate would consist of an A4 piece of paper each week with a picture of a miniature pony on it, followed by a creepy feature on why Ryan Gosling/James Lafferty/Zachary Levi should be my husband. Seriously, thank you. To Sue Higgins and my former manager Rebecca Williams (who left in July this year): thank you for trusting me with debate (and a budget?!) and letting me take it in the direction I wanted it to go. And to my current manager Kate Campbell: even though you cringe every time I say it, you are an awesome boss to work alongside. Next 3pm dairy run is on me. And to the rest of the AuSM crew: you make coming to work so enjoyable, especially when it’s bake-off day. To my designer, Deanne, who has single-handedly turned this magazine into the hottest it’s looked since… heck, what am I saying? It’s never looked this good. Thank you for bringing your enthusiasm, creativity and inspiration to debate. If possible, my enthusiasm for this job trebled when you came on board. Also, thank you for abolishing midnight Wednesdays. To my editorial assistant, Alisha: you’ve helped filled out so many of those blank pages over the year and have been a great second set of eyes. Although I’m still mad at you for going to New York and not taking me with you. Seriously, that hurt. And finally, to my mum, who hasn’t had a mention in the last few editorials: thank you for still being the obsessive parent that keeps all their kid’s work and shows it off when guests come around. One day that will be worth something – and then we can sell it and go to Vegas to see Celine. Now, I know I have missed someone out and for that I’m so sorry. Just like I’m sorry for all the errors that somehow made it through the magazine (seriously, it’s like they formed after it went to the printers), all the unreplied emails that arrived when I was sleeping with both eyes open and all the sadness you’re feeling now that you know I’m leaving. But before you abandon your studies completely to go into a state of mourning, don’t think this is the last you’ll hear from me. I’ll still be at AuSM until the beginning of next year, making sure everything is ready for the next editor to take over. And knowing me, I’m sure my byline will pop up in at least one (or six) movie reviews in the Orientation issue. Finally, for all those that always wanted to contribute to debate but never got around to it, remember there is always next year. Sure, you probably won’t have nearly the calibre of quality email banter to look forward to (see above), but it’s one of the best chances you will ever have to get your opinions out there. People often think that debate isn’t read outside the walls of AUT, but over the last two years I’ve been repeatedly blown away by the people who end up with the mag in their hands each week. Seriously, pick up a pen, a paintbrush or a laptop, and start jotting down some ideas for 2012. I’m struggling to think how I’m going to end this. That’s ironic because words are supposed to be my weapon in the workforce. I wish I had something wise to say like Steve Jobs (pg 19) or Brendan Kelly (pg 21). But I don’t, so I’ll let you with the same words that I parted on last year, when the pressure wasn’t as big: Peace out, and all that jazz.
Welcome to the final issue of debate for 2011, brought to you by AuSM.