My Farewell to The Relic

I have sat down to write this article many times, and each time I have stood up to do something else. I have always thought I was good at finding the right words, yet right now there is not a single one I would pick. But I have already wiped my desk, hoovered the apartment, and gone for a run, so it’s time to focus. Maybe I just don’t want to say goodbye.

Another thing I don’t like is interviews. I didn’t like them this year, when I had to apply for my master’s, and I didn’t like them three years ago, when I got called in for my interview to join the Arts and Culture section. I remember the small Union room with the two editors-in-chief, and how I had put on a bit too much perfume. I remember being asked what my favourite piece of creative media was, and replying with a series of ghost novels for middle schoolers. It was the first and only thing that came to mind. After saying it out loud, I thought I was doomed. Still, it felt like a beautiful moment, finding a place where my interests were not just shared, but celebrated.

When a friend asked me how it went, I simply said, “I don’t know if I said the right things, but at least I was honest.” And that is exactly what The Relic has been for me over these three years, a place to be honest.

Every semester, I gave myself permission to write one article that was more personal than the others. Sometimes it was about a childhood memory, sometimes about coming to university as an international student or about how studying Classics helped me through difficult moments. Having a space to express these reflections has meant a lot. What meant even more were the messages from people who read them and recognised themselves in what I wrote, something I will always be grateful for.

Many opportunities came out of The Relic. I remember writing an article about tarot cards and then being invited to read tarot at the Debate Ball. That was the night I learned that we all have the same problems. I got to watch short films made by St Andrews students, and to give a shoutout to my own projects, like the exhibition a friend and I put up at the Wardlaw Museum last semester.

Still, what I treasure most is the constant sense of wonder I have found in this section.

I feel it most strongly at pitch meetings, maybe my favourite part of the whole experience. The number of ideas I have never even considered that come up in that hour never fails to amaze me. People suggest articles about vegan meat, literature about the end of the world, the trend of radio bets during Christmas, the role of public art. I am someone who tends to live too much in her own head, and just sitting down for an hour and listening to the interests and inner worlds of others is truly inspiring.

Of course, it has not always been easy. There have been hard times, weeks when I didn’t have a single idea for an article, when the last thing I wanted, among so many deadlines, was to write more. But staying through those moments is also part of what made the experience what it was. Now I can look back at what I have written as a mosaic of my university experience. There were many moments when I did not want to write, but not a single one when I regretted it.

So if there is something I would pass on, it is this. Go to more socials than I did. Go to more handouts. Stop people after pitch meetings to compliment their ideas, even if it feels uncomfortable. This is an exciting section. It is vibrant, it is alive. It will give you back more than you expect.

And as for me, I hope my days as an Arts and Culture writer are not over. I am sure there will be another newspaper to join next year, during my Master’s. But what I know for certain is that The Relic will always have a special place in my heart. I write this last article already with nostalgia, but also with the feeling that nothing is truly ending, and with the certainty that I will always be able to follow what comes next. Goodbye!

Illustration by Ramona Kirkham