It's been real ...

Natashia Gregoire

Editor emerita

Two strangers from opposite sides of the globe sat in a musty corner office in Vardaman Hall surrounded only by the hum of the generators and the creaking of the old building.

The young reporter, inexperienced in her trade, tried to discern the meaning of the Israeli peace process and its impact on Ole Miss students. The Arab was all too willing to talk.

He broke every stereotype that she had ever held about Arab/Jew relationships. She did not get her story, because at Ole Miss, there was no conflict. In fact, there was only one Jewish student at the time. But what she got from the interview was inspiration. From that moment, she knew that her stint with The Daily Mississippian was no longer a stint. It would become her life.

From that interview, she learned the power of the press. She learned how people will pour their hearts out to a reporter because they believe that a journalist's pen has the potential to inspire change. But then, she realized that the journalist also has to believe in the ability of his pen to bring about that change.

Three years have passed since that first interview, and the young reporter is no longer innocent. She is no longer naive. But she is still passionate. In fact, she is more passionate than ever about the vocation that has brought so much richness to her life. Yet, she is still baffled that the one thing that has been the source of so much joy has brought her to tears so many times.

To the staff she had come to depend on, she was "Natie," the woman of steel. She had to be strong for them even when she was the target. She had to let them know that their endless hours of work were appreciated, despite evidence to the contrary. She had to build them up when so many others were trying to break them down. And though they did not know it, on those tough days, they were her source of strength.

But some mornings, just before the sunrise, just when she was about to go to bed, she would break down in tears. The tears were cleansing, though. They helped her wash away the discouragement of the three messages on her answering machine that night that called her "bitch," the caller unidentified. The file of hate mail that she kept was growing. In fact, it had grown to three times the size of the fan mail file. Why didn't she give it up?

In her book bag, she carries the answer to that question. An e-mailed letter from freshman Billy Barlow, which says "I'll be so happy when you're gone. I'll wave my Rebel flag in your face just because I know it will offend you."

That is why she never gave up.

With ignorance, bigotry and intolerance still abundant, how could she give up?

With people still willing to bare their souls when she took out her pen and her pad, she was not about to quit.

Each morning, she would be re-energized by a prayer and a daily dose of Bob Marley and Lauryn Hill. There was no giving up.

She has had a bumpy ride. And as she looks back on the years she wonders: "Was it worth it?"

Was it worth it to report on the custodians and their dangerous new hours? Was it worth it to investigate the Morris Study and its implications for the university? Was it worth it to explore the implications of drunk driving when lives are at stake? Was it worth it when staff members drove across the state to capture stories and images about Mississippi life? Was it worth it to question the city and the university on the inadequacy of their emergency systems? Was it worth it to revisit 150 years of Ole Miss history in a Sesquicentennial Issue? Was it worth it to report on the freshman's suicide when no one wanted to talk about it?

Then she looks around at the basement office that has been her home for three years and sees the fire and the passion in the eyes of her successors -- her friends -- and she knows that it was indeed worth it.

But she must move on now. She must prepare to leave DM and UM and adopt another corner of the globe. Maybe New York. Maybe Florida. Maybe London. Maybe Paris. Maybe Washington. She will go to wherever her passion drives her. But she will never forget the Ole Miss family that has adopted her during her college years. And now as reluctantly as she came, she must leave.