Dear Hannah Bonanducci,

Over spring break, I updated my LinkedIn profile. When I started college, at Cabrini University (I know and I’m sorry), I figured I should create a LinkedIn profile. Y’know, for professionalism. I had no experience at all, so I knew I would have to come back and fill it in later. 

Well I did. I updated my resume, filled in all my academic and professional experience, and created a little bio. I listed attributes of mine in the bio, ranking them from most important to least important. Of course, “Writing Major” is first on the list. But the second one is “College Journalist”. 

I have a love-hate relationship with college journalism. When I first started at Cabrini, I was excited. But that excitement quickly died as I went through my first semester of journalism. 

You see, Cabrini’s newspaper was called The Loquitur (I don’t know what it means so don’t ask). Being a writer for The Loquitur meant taking the journalism course. This course had to be taken for two consecutive semesters, and had a large amount of work involved. In addition to researching, conducting a minimum of three interviews, and writing an article every two weeks, we had quizzes, readings and other writing assignments.

 Here’s the worst part: it wasn’t even guaranteed that your article would make it in the paper. Against all odds, I made it out alive at the end of the year. 

When I came to Eastern, I yearned for a fresh start. I looked forward to the school year again, not having to worry about the horrors of college journalism. But I made a mistake. After pouring so much of my being into writing for the paper, I would use that part of me as the fun fact during icebreakers. 

I did not know how tight-knit Eastern was. Almost everyone told me I needed to meet Hannah Bonanducci, the Editor-in-Chief of The Waltonian. They all said it with a huge smile on their faces, which led me to believe that something good would come from meeting her. 

I was wrong. I remember sitting in the lobby of Sparrowk, talking to her for hours about our experiences working on college newspapers. I complained about everything, and she sympathized. But at some point—I have no idea how or when—Bonanducci convinced me to write for The Waltonian. 

I’ll be honest, it was nice at first. Finding out that every article written for each issue would make it into the print version made me believe in college journalism again. But that’s the problem. I had made a vow to myself that I would never ever write anything for any newspaper ever again. I was so serious about this oath, I told my mom about it. She had listened to me loudly vocalize each and every displeasure I had ever felt writing for the newspaper. 

Toward the end of the fall semester, I was promoted from simple staff writer to the editor of the centerspread section of The Waltonian. Yeah, you read that correctly. During the summer I gave up on pursuing journalism, both in college and as a career. Not only did Bonanducci find a way to make me reverse that decision, she gave me more responsibilities. 

Once every three to four weeks I have to rack my brain to come up with TWO whole article ideas! Then I have to send out emails to people who chose to write articles from my ideas. After that I have to sit down and read those articles, giving feedback to the writer. Sometimes I have to carve out a little bit of time in my own busy schedule to write articles (like this one . . . thanks Bonanducci).

Now here I sit, sorting through everything in my mind. I realize what happened. Bonanducci happened. She is a master manipulator. She found a way to lower my guard through words alone. She analyzed my psyche, finding the worn out lockbox labeled “Excitement for Journalism!” She pried that box open with her cold witch-like hands. And I never had a chance to stop it. 

Don’t let Bonanducci fool you. Behind her propeller hat and little finger wave is someone who will search for a part of you to exploit—even parts you want to hide away forever. She is not whimsical. She is a witch!