The Woodlands Cemetery is only two blocks from Penn’s campus, but it couldn’t feel further away. With its 18th-century mansion, winding brick paths, Victorian funerary monuments, and over 1,000 species of trees, it’s a different world, one that takes you out of the Penn bubble and 21st-century Philadelphia.
Whether I’m stressed or excited about something, the Woodlands has been my place of retreat since I arrived at Penn. Usually I’m alone, AirPods in. But when I’m babysitting Lucca — a rambunctious, people-loving gelgian malinois from Penn's School of Veterinary Medicine Working Dog Center — we pause to greet everyone. Anyone who knows me would call me an introvert, and they’re right. But I’ve appreciated the ways these moments have given me a glimpse into others’ lives.
On one walk, a father approached me with his toddler, who was dying to say hi to a squirming Lucca. He told me he was a writer too, and handed me a copy of a poem he’d written, inspired by the Woodlands. Another time, as Lucca sniffed the butt of a border collie named Sally, I learned her owner was moving to Vermont — the same town I used to work in. And the artist I often see sketching gravestones during my walks, usually silent, softened to Lucca’s whining and leash tugging to say hi, and ultimately invited me to his show in West Philadelphia.
What the Woodlands represent — time to myself, the chance to meet people I would never otherwise encounter – is a big reason I almost didn’t apply to be news editor. As an underclassman, all I’d heard about taking a board position at The Daily Pennsylvanian was that you had to make it your life. You had to be online 24/7 and only take giant lectures in case breaking news arose in class (a frequent occurrence). I didn’t want my college experience reduced to Slack pings and cold Papa John’s pizza on Wednesday production nights that inevitably turn into Thursday mornings.
Still, I took the leap. The work sounded exciting, and I convinced myself I could find a balance. The former was true, the latter, sort of true.
Former Penn President Liz Magill resigned during my first week of training for the job, and the months that followed gave all of us a crash course in covering what soon became a national story, with new layers to unpack each day. Definitely a 24/7 commitment. The story had powerful constituencies with a range of motivations and perspectives, all trying to influence the story we told, and so I learned on the job the difficult task of providing balanced coverage while reporting a highly contested story.
This knowledge would soon come in useful in another context, during the 16 days and nights we spent covering the Gaza Solidarity Encampment, an experience that gave me a firsthand understanding of the important role journalists play in cutting through the noise to help readers understand what’s happening. Here, I also experienced the benefit of working with a strong team willing to have hard conversations about story framing – who to center, what to question, and how to do a story justice without oversimplifying it. The DP’s coverage wasn’t always perfect, of course, and we didn’t always agree, but I’m glad to have been a part of a team that made an effort to get it right.
About that question of balance. I did not sacrifice the fun and important parts of my Penn academic experience that competed with my DP job. I continued to take small seminars and sought out experiences off campus. My predecessors weren’t wrong — I spent the year running on minimal sleep and illicitly checking my phone under the desk in no-tech classes. I became notorious for turning things in late; by April of my junior year, my professors were offering me extensions without my asking. The cool thing was that they seemed almost as invested in my DP work as I was.
Some important experiences: A creative writing course allowed me to meet and connect with Philadelphia teenagers over our shared love for horses. I visited community gardens across the city, learning firsthand about the role they play in uplifting their communities. I got to meet Connor, now my roommate and one of my best friends, through walks and gelato stops on our way to explore The Library Company of Philadelphia's archives for a history seminar. I went to a Phillies game with my history of baseball class. I read Leo Tolstoy’s "War and Peace" in its entirety.
These experiences enriched my time in college and also made me a better journalist. By immersing myself fully in the Penn experience, I was better able to write about the University. And by seeking experiences outside of the university in wider Philadelphia, I learned about the city and its people, and thus could write more thoughtfully about them when called upon to do so.
The ornate metal gates enclosing the Woodlands that greet me every time I visit feature hourglasses with wings attached. The Library of Congress says the gates are designed to symbolize “the quick passage of time and the shortness of human life.” It’s cheesy, but I think this message applies to Penn, too.
I’m grateful for everything the DP has taught me and for the opportunities it’s given me to grow both as a journalist and a leader. But I’m just as glad that I made an effort to step outside of it, to make the most of my classes and all that Philadelphia has to offer.
KATIE BARTLETT is a senior studying History and English. She formerly served as the News Editor on the 140th Board of the Daily Pennsylvanian, Inc. Her email is kbartl@sas.upenn.edu.
