My first assignment for The Campus almost four years ago took me to the basement of the Ilsley Public Library, where I remained for a superfluous three hours, asking visitors about the household cleaning products they were making for an Earth Day event. While not inherently a thrilling task, the article obliged me, a shy first year Feb, to approach and talk with locals.
I had been determined to work for my college paper because I liked to write, and because I (for some reason) admired Rory Gilmore, the quintessential student journalist. But what I found when I began was not only the opportunity to learn to craft a compelling narrative, but to find myself in situations I never thought I would, armed with a permission slip to ask almost any question that came to mind.
In the months that followed, I took on all the stories my editors sent my way. Sitting on the steps of St. Mary’s church, I called businesses in town as my fingers froze in the cold to find out which owners would let me show up within minutes for an interview about shortening their winter hours (thank you, Becky Dayton of Vermont Book Shop). My first time climbing the stairs in Old Chapel was for a meeting with the dean of curriculum — I was investigating that year’s messy J-Term registration process. While making my way down Main Street during the annual Middlebury Fall Festival and Car Show, a few requests for brief comments from vehicle owners earned me invitations to sit inside a 1956 Belair Chevrolet and a 1972 Lotus Europa with a picture of Queen Elizabeth taped inside. I knew, and still know, nothing about cars. But it turned out that didn’t mean I couldn’t write about them.
As I grew into my various editor roles, I took on still more articles. I’ve been a fly on the wall at faculty meetings, typing notes on heated debates about graduation requirements and a certain costly graduate school. Other editors and I took a tour of New Battell last fall while it was still under construction and climbed into the cupola on its roof, unveiling a unique view of campus. I tracked down employees at Sugarbush Resort via Reddit who opposed Vice President J.D. Vance’s visit to their slopes. Each new article I wrote and published brought me fresh satisfaction — I was helping people in our community stay informed, getting more experience, becoming closer with other editors and having fun.
When I discovered my love for reporting, I did not think I would ever be editor-in-chief. In my super senior semester, I’ve traded being out and about interviewing and writing for long hours in our office in the basement of Hepburn Hall, thinking about story ideas, headline options, overhaul edits, page counts, InDesign tricks, spreadsheets and editorial decisions. Ting Cui ’25.5 is my roommate, best friend, former senior sports editor and business manager, and I am in the habit of asking her what size advertisements we have for the next week’s print issue as we get ready for bed. A delivery truck drop-off mishap even had us trying out distribution; she wheeled our Oct. 30 issue into town, and I ran around campus with armfuls of papers that left smears of ink on my hands.
While it may sound less exciting, to duck back into the control room, devote myself to something bigger than myself and watch stacks of The Campus shrink each week as our readers grab their copies has been among the most meaningful parts of my college experience. With more responsibility has come more love for this paper and what it allows us as students to achieve as we bring clarity, change, dialogue and entertainment to our school. Any student reading who has considered writing for The Campus should give it a try. You may be surprised by where your assignments bring you and what all 12 pages — even the sports section — could become to you.
Madeleine Kaptein '25.5 (she/her) is the Editor in Chief.
Madeleine previously served as a managing editor, local editor, staff writer and copy editor. She is a Comparative Literature major with a focus on German and English literatures and was a culture journalism intern at Seven Days for the summer of 2025.
