I had barely made it to the closing scene of my housemate’s play when the text came through.
“OFF OFF OFF the record,” I was told, “big news” was coming imminently.
I didn’t make it to the final bow. While bouquet-bearing friends fanned out into the Annenberg Center lobby, I was sprinting down Locust Walk.
The president of Penn was resigning.
By nightfall, hours after we broke the news, The Daily Pennsylvanian’s prescheduled end-of-semester party felt quite different. But the party, as it so often does at Penn, went on.
My personal experience on Dec. 9, 2023 pales in comparison to the story at hand. In fact, I would much rather you read the DP’s authoritative coverage of the crises affecting campus than my account of reporting on them.
Yet this is how I experienced Penn: through phone calls from administrators while apple picking with my boyfriend, jaw-dropping statements from Jon Huntsman Jr. while at dinner with my dad on fall break, and pleas to my professor to reschedule my final so I could make it to Liz Magill’s testimony before Congress.
The relentless breaking news superseded any personal priority — my studies, my family, and even my love life. The DP simply had to cut through the noise and double down on producing an accurate first draft of Penn history.
As I found myself energized (and exhausted) by questioning those in power and chasing a fulsome portrayal of Penn, it was the small moments that validated my choice to explore Penn through the DP — like catching the sunrise after an all-nighter prepping a major sports investigation, yapping endlessly with Molly, Saya, and Imran in the Blue Room, and welcoming the 141st Board at the annual banquet.
Yet even the very activity that should have ensured that I’d see all there is to see at Penn — four years of intensive reporting on ordinary and extraordinary news across campus — was not enough to make me the well-rounded student that this University boasts about producing. When I reflect on what truly fueled my DP experience — 123,000 Slack messages, 89 Daily Grind smoothies from Saxbys, 59 spirited A1 debates, coverage of four Penn presidents, and all — I realize that I only found fulfillment with my work because of what I experienced outside of the Pink Palace, as the DP’s pink-trimmed office is fondly called.
Opening myself up to my first-year hallmates, dropping my computer science major, joining another club, writing a thesis, and spending time with Friars Senior Society taught me important lessons. And these experiences shielded me from losing myself within the palace chambers of 4015 Walnut St. — in all its mystique perched atop Metropolitan Bakery and guarded by windowless walls.
This column isn’t an attempt to defend myself against being nicknamed by my housemates as simply “DP” or to deny the truth that I was married to my work — at times to a fault. It is a belated acknowledgement of a simple truth: I could not have ridden the wave of each news cycle without a sturdy life raft, one built as much from my experiences in the DP as those outside of it.
In the fall of my first year, I deconstructed my own palace walls by coming to full terms with my sexuality. When my Hill 2-Blue hallmates welcomed me (and my newfound middle part haircut) to the other side of the gates — then cheered me on after I was elected administration desk editor — I grew comfortable in my own skin and with new people, preparing me for leadership in the DP.
In my second semester, I came to understand not only graph theory, but also the scope of Penn. As Slack pings about Amy Wax interrupted my (then) CIS 160 office hours, I realized that the DP’s stories might be more important than anything else to me, but many students simply had different, and just as valid, priorities — their own palaces to enter and explore.
When I dropped my computer science major, I learned to accept failure. Little did I know that my CIS 160 groupmate, Anna, would one day be my executive editor and best friend.
In my sophomore and junior year, I joined Penn Labs, introducing me to an entirely different club culture and way of engaging the University community. I came away with a better understanding of what worked, and didn’t work, at the DP.
And in my final year at Penn, I reclaimed some semblance of the “student” in “student journalist” by writing a thesis (albeit on university president communications). In Friars, I not only put faces to names of athletes who headline the DP’s sports section, but also met people who are just as crazy about their passions as I am about mine.
All of these experiences ultimately made the Pink Palace all the more majestic — despite having fluorescent lighting, rather than glistening chandeliers; newsroom tabletops with stacks of pizza from Zesto Pizza and Grill, rather than banquet halls with golden goblets; spinny red chairs, rather than gilded furniture; and historic DP print issues, rather than tapestries, lining the palace halls. By keeping the palace gates open, it was easier for me to grasp that it was not just my mom reading my newsletter on Tuesday mornings, but also basketball players, CIS 160 teaching assistants, marketing professors, and Philadelphia community members.
The lessons I learned from leaving my comfort zone, finding space in Penn’s preprofessional culture for my passions, grappling with failure, and building friendships outside work are not only applicable to becoming a trustworthy, empathetic, and successful journalist at this University. They are applicable to every student. I encourage you to explore Penn in your own way — find what your palace is, pink-trimmed or not. But while you enjoy the splendor, don’t let the gates close behind you — or you’ll shut yourself off to the most fulsome Penn experience.
I kept the Pink Palace doors open and had the experience of a lifetime. While I’ll most remember sprinting down Locust Walk when the story demanded it, I’m more than ready to stroll down the cobblestones one final time — with a full appreciation for the palace of Penn.
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Thank you to Jesse, Molly, and Anna for being my rocks these past four years; Jonah, Peter, Ben, and the editors on the 140th Board for building me into the journalist I am today; and every student journalist who has inspired me with their perseverance amid unprecedented challenges.
JARED MITOVICH is a College senior from Woodcliff Lake, N.J. studying communication, data science, and political science. He previously served as DP editor-in-chief on the 140th Board of The Daily Pennsylvanian, Inc. He also served as news editor, administration desk editor, data desk reporter, and an audience engagement staffer. His email is jaredmit@sas.upenn.edu.
