I fell into the field. Had my roommate not wanted to watch a particular channel at a particular time, y'all would have a rather different U.S. News community.
This was spring 1998, so at least we were past Braveheart running on some HBO channel 24/7 such that walking down the hallway to pee meant hearing it yet again.
Early on in my time as a columnist, I took aim at the administration, as I already saw what was happening. We were sold an amazing undergrad, but as things went on, it became increasingly clear we were just this pesky thing stopping UW from being able to fully focus on important things like research.
By underpaying grad students, of course.
As opinion editor a year after actually steeping myself in the newsroom (and production room), I stepped up my assaults on the administration; by this point, I was calling out individual administrators for their actions.
A year later, I was managing editor and at this point had no fucks left to give. I raked the university president over the coals over, and over, and over. Not weekly via my column, as that would have been tedious, but I was running the editorial board, so I could certainly do it anonymously with some frequency.
We had those times where College Republicans would steal and burn issues of The Daily just outside the Communications building. Thing is, they didn't do enough research to figure out which side of the building the newsroom was on, so they were burning shit outside of professors' offices with all of us blissfully unaware until someone needed to take an unusual path (usually via the health center) to grab lunch.
There was a vice-provost who had to endlessly come to my defense throughout my time there, from contributing writer, to designer and columnist, to opinion ed, to managing ed. It wasn't that he agreed with me; he thought the purpose of the university was to foster an environment where ideas could be exchanged.
When we remove this from campus, it is questionable what universities are doing. At that point, it's an unapologetic trade school, shitting out good little bitches for corporate America.
I never intended to go into journalism, everything my parents did to the contrary, from getting me a rubber movable-type setup -- which I loved -- around 4 to a copy of The Newsroom, software for the Apple ][+ that allowed one to take copy and art and design a page crudely.
Right, this is normal for being 8. But I'm named after a WWII journalist, so despite their protestations when I went off the reservation in college and starting prioritizing my time in the newsroom over being fucked to go to class, surprised Pikachu.
There is no purpose in a college newsroom where the opinion page is Dear Leader approved.
Odd ... stepcattle doesn't sound at all like the sort of thing involving jackboots and train cars.