The Daily Bruin.

These three words carry more weight than I could have ever thought possible for the name of a college newspaper. Just flashing through all of my memories of this paper overwhelms me with conflicting emotions: pride and dissatisfaction, joy and anger, happiness and sorrow.

This paper defined my UCLA experience, taking me to places I’d never thought I’d go. Letting me meet people I would’ve never met otherwise. These have included:

Chasing down leads for stories about topics ranging from film school students receiving outdated education to a former philosophy lecturer threatening a mass shooting on our campus.

Interviewing people about updates in public transportation projects, ordinances impacting people experiencing homelessness, and the desperate need for housing in our community.

Listening to the experiences of alumni and current students as the beloved Stan’s Donuts was closed during the pandemic.

Taking deep dives into the latest developments in science and health on campus, ranging from AI to genetic studies.

The Daily Bruin let me talk to so many unique individuals across our campus and share their perspectives with the world. And for the longest time, because I wrote so many stories centered around others, I thought I’d never have the chance to record mine.

But, in many ways, I created my own through the memories I shared with everyone in the paper.

As I reflect on my story, so many details and memories jump out at me. But they’re not about the satisfaction of becoming an editor or finally publishing a long-term story. It’s the little memories, the ones that, in the moment, seem so dull and uninteresting. Those are the ones I’ll always cherish.

For me, it was having nuanced discussions about philosophy and ethics or finding new ways to make terrible puns at 2:30 in the morning with Justin throughout the pandemic.

It was passionately discussing Kirby Slackmojis with Anushka or Christine or getting told that I was going to the 626 Night Market without any warning.

It was sitting in the old and moldy office before the pandemic at the news desk with all the editors and other reporters, having stories tossed around for edits as we talked about Club Penguin and its PSA Secret Missions.

Even the Slackmojis that I use are souvenirs, imbued with origin stories, that help me remember my time here at the paper.

The small moments are what matter. But it wasn’t all happy.

I saw this paper fail its readers and staff on so many occasions, as so many of us shouted into a void, asking for things to change or even for a simple breather. The frustration and anger I felt whenever I felt silenced compounded the difficulties I had with the DB.

This same frustration led me to take a one-quarter hiatus early in my second year, as I debated whether I would remain in the paper the following calendar year. As an editor, I seriously considered quitting, buckling under the weight of my role as I juggled tasks simultaneously with no real pause.

The culture here never incentivized a sense of balance, always demanding that we as editors be ready to report on the latest events at odd hours without any real compensation. Many of my relationships in the paper went through ups and downs as we struggled to separate our work from our lives.

Beyond that, the paper went through a pandemic as we lived through history. In news, I wrote about how people’s lives were completely upended because of current events. I saw how people in the paper struggled alongside me to make it from one day to the next, across the continent and the world.

Yet, the paper moved on, leaving people behind and failing to listen as they repeatedly asked for help.

I want to love this place, the work we did, yet I felt this sense of constant betrayal, a muzzling in some ways. So why did I stay involved for nearly four years?

I don’t know if I could ever give a clear answer, but there were many people who made life easier. Who helped me on my path to editorship and learning the ropes of what it means to be a reporter.

David and Martín, my City and Crime editors, welcomed me into this paper and put up with all of my shenanigans. They helped me develop my news judgment before I headed off into Enterprise. Melissa, my editor-in-chief when I was in Enterprise, encouraged me to apply for the role and supported me as I stumbled while leading my contributors, new and old. She helped me grow as a leader and as a person.

Working with you, Justin, during my first year of editorship truly made me a better reporter. You never let me get away with cutting corners, and for that, I’ll always be grateful. This year’s News team guided me as I covered a range of stories and welcomed me without hesitation when I joined editorship so late. I truly couldn’t have reached the finish line without you.

The Daily Bruin. It’s meant so much to me, both good and bad, and saying goodbye will be one of the hardest things I’ll do.

But hey, if it was my job to write down stories as a record keeper for years, maybe I never truly have to say goodbye. Though the paper may not be a big part of my life anymore, I’ll find a way to remember.

After all, it’s the small things that matter.

Oruganti was a News contributor 2018-2019, News staff 2019-2022, Enterprise editor 2020-2021 and city and crime editor 2021-2022.