Saying Goodbye to ‘Hello Katie’

of wittiness. But my column name also signaled an introduction. Hello Katie became my way of making sense of Cornell and the strange, terrible, wonderful ordeal that is college — and it allowed me a voice so that Cornell could make sense of me.

I joined The Sun as a freshman in January of 2020, and for the next four tumultuous semesters, these articles served as a constant in my life. Like clockwork, the biweekly Sunday deadline provided learned what it meant to grow up and grow independent and raced to chronicle the small joys I had missed out on for 1.5 years.

I hadn’t planned on running for an editorship at any point, but a conversation with Odeya Rosenband ‘22 and Catherine St. Hilaire ‘22 in November of 2021 changed my mind and the trajectory of my Sun tenure. I will be forever grateful for their unwavering guidance as my editors, for answering my extensive questions about compet and, most of all, for believing in me when I was filled with self-doubt.

This column was originally published on May 12.

I’ve been accumulating snapshots for this final column since freshman year. Amorphous ideas stored in the back of my mind, half-baked phrases in the notes app on my phone, 3 a.m. text message wisdom to friends. Yet now, when I have to transform my jumbled miscellanea into coherent sentences, nothing I can write feels adequate. After all, how do you consolidate four years, one pandemic, a million existential crises and a billion more memories into a cohesive narrative?

This is the 29th and final piece that I will ever write for Hello Katie, so to say The Sun was a big part of my time at Cornell would be a gross understatement. I admittedly chose the name Hello Katie for my column because my 19-year-old brain thought wordplay on Hello Kitty was the apex me stability through the first, daunting days of the pandemic, when my fledgling college career took a steep nosedive into uncharted waters. I documented the weeks in limbo where I had all the time in the world to ponder my existence, my major crisis (literally), my decision to stay home sophomore fall and my decision to return to campus sophomore spring. As life returned to a normal-adjacent state — and I panicked over how limited my time in the college bubble truly was — my column bore witness to a slew of upperclassman introspection. In the safety of my Google Docs, I grappled with the discombobulation of being a junior with the traditional college experience of a freshman,

My time as The Sun’s opinion editor introduced me to the most brilliant, creative community. I am beyond thankful for Emma Leynse ’23, my wonderful associate editor and Sun playlist connoisseur. Every day I wonder how I got so lucky to call you a friend. And for Vee Cipperman ’23, the best editor in chief I could have asked for (I dedicate any and all Sun puns I make in the future to you). For all the other editors and writers who poured countless hours into this organization, sacrificing sleep, school and sanity to keep the cogs of The Sun turning for 140 years and counting.

In the words of my amazing first opinion editor, Pallavi Kenkare ’21, “Working at The Sun, gleaning insight into the joys and woes and ideas of Cornellians from all over campus, was the only way to love Cornell properly.” The opinion section, especially, in all its quirky, controversial, poignant glory, has taught me more about Cornell’s eclecticism, resilience, flaws and beauty than anything else I have been a part of. To me, loving Cornell meant shining a light on these student voices, challenging the status quo and seizing the opportunity to write (and edit) Cornell’s history.