As a freshman, I stayed at school until 1 AM, staring at an InDesign layout for our Graduation Special, shifting text boxes pixel by pixel under the sterile glow of newsroom lights. My eyes burned from the screen, my hands hovered over the keyboard, and every adjustment felt like a small battle against the software. But even as I fought with margins and font sizes, I wasn’t alone.

Next to me were the managing editors and EICs of my first volume. They had trusted me—just a first-year staff member—to work on one of the most important pages of the paper (the "Senior Plans" page, which included the name of every graduating student and where they were planning to go after graduation). In between long silences filled with the sound of clicking mice and furious typing, they cracked jokes, debated headlines, and showed me how to fine-tune alignment without losing my mind. Those late nights didn’t feel long. They felt like learning. I soaked up everything—how to balance a layout, how to think visually, how to troubleshoot InDesign crashes without panicking.

At one point, one of my advisers, Mr. Knapp, leaned over and said, “This is usually a job for an EIC.” I guess he predicted the future and foreshadowed my complicated relationship with InDesign for the next three years.

Learning how to (In)design

Since January of 2022, I’ve led the visual design of every Newtonite print edition—from the First Day of School Special (always a fun challenge to build during the last stretch of summer) to the massive 40-page Graduation Special. When I first took on the role, I was overwhelmed by how many moving pieces there were. I had to figure out where headlines should fall, how much space a pull quote should take up, and how to balance text and images so that the page wasn’t just informative—but also visually engaging.

At first, it was a lot. I remember sitting in front of InDesign for hours, shifting boxes back and forth, trying to figure out why my headline wasn’t aligning properly, or why my pull quotes always seemed to float awkwardly in the middle of a page. But gradually, the mechanics started to click.

A big part of that was finding the right people to help. Early on, when the seniors who had run design before me graduated, I was left trying to piece things together. That’s when I recruited a graphics major from North who knew their way around InDesign and could help me navigate some of the more complicated layouts. Having someone on the team who actually understood the software made a huge difference. It gave me space to stop panicking and start really learning.

I also leaned into my perfectionist side. I’ve always been someone who obsesses over the little details—whether it’s making sure the margins are perfectly even or ensuring that every photo is exactly aligned with its caption. That instinct, which has sometimes felt like a curse in other areas of my life, actually became an asset in design. I learned to notice the small things that can make or break a page.

Design isn’t just about making something look good—it’s about making stories readable, accessible, and impactful. A misplaced column can bury an important quote. A poorly placed headline can make a reader skip an entire story. Every page, margin, and caption matters. Sometimes I look back at my older print specials and cringe when I see a pull quote that’s slightly off-center or a photo that isn’t perfectly aligned with the text. But I also see how much I’ve grown.

The centerfolds have always been my favorite part of each print special. They’re the most creative spreads—where we can design something that’s visually appealing, interactive, and informative all at once. I loved the challenge of creating them. It would take me forever (tweaking layouts, choosing colors, finding the right balance), but I enjoyed *most* of it.

Eventually, we recruited Will, another graphics major and a Photoshop expert, and he took the centerfolds to another level. He could create designs better and faster than I ever could. And while I could obsess over every detail, the best pages—the ones I’m most proud of—were always the ones that came from collaboration. The centerfolds that stood out weren’t just my vision but the product of shared creativity, teamwork, and trust.

Digital Storytelling

The Newtonite operates online year-round, publishing around 45 articles per semester in addition to our five print specials. Maintaining the website meant ensuring every breaking story was formatted, categorized, and visually optimized, because in a digital newsroom, speed matters.

During the teachers’ strike, we needed a way to get news out immediately. I spent an entire night watching video after video, trying to figure out how to modify our website banner to include a Breaking News alert. After hours of trial and error, I finally did it—and it became one of our most important tools during the strike, ensuring real-time updates reached our audience.

For the next volume, the new leadership onboarded a designated website editor, so the next EIC wouldn’t have to rely on YouTube tutorials at 2 AM to make critical design changes. I think they probably know what they are doing.