My family sat in the fifth row from the back, on the left side of Irvine Auditorium, on my Quaker Days visit to Penn.
If we had sat even one row further back, or visited on a different day, then I would not have been assigned to a tour group led by Jonah, The Daily Pennsylvanian’s then-Editor-in-chief. I would not have joined the DP, led the publication’s science and health section, or later served as news editor through a year of unprecedented campus turmoil. And I would have left Penn with an entirely different image of my future.
That experience is not unique to me — much of life, especially in college, is driven by serendipity and inertia. Someone’s life trajectory may be shaped by a club they joined on a whim, a best friend made through random dorm assignment, or a potential friendship that never quite formed, just two seats over in class.
But embedded in college life is an experience which I’ve found most akin to running on a treadmill. Many Penn students simply move in a straight line, running towards a predetermined destination while rarely stopping to zig or zag or ponder whether they really want to be running at all. People join clubs or take easy classes to improve job prospects, and they walk on eggshells when having conversations about hot-button political issues to avoid ruffling any feathers. Rarely do people step away to consider the simple element of joy, and it’s not surprising why. If you step off the treadmill, and the person next to you keeps running, they might be able to pass you.
I am no exception to this. Much of my DP career is the result of responding to others’ nudges — whether in the form of Jonah being my tour guide and telling me to join, his later pushing me to run to lead the science and health section, or, a year later, my peers’ encouragement to run for news editor. And, for me, the danger of this lifestyle was not randomness, but rather how easily I stopped questioning my path.
Perhaps the biggest consequence of this was my tenure as news editor — which, even a year and a half later, I struggle to coherently describe.
It may be easier to describe that year by what I was missing. Among them: a near-infinite amount of classes and meals with friends, time to maintain and invest in strong relationships, an intellectual investment in my coursework, any form of a consistent sleep schedule, happy hours, formals, and parties, and any sort of consistency in any facet of my life.
It should come as no surprise that my year as news editor featured the lowest lows of my college experience. Yet there was a profound joy in the intellectual excitement of shaping campus conversation, providing critical and timely information to Penn students and affiliates, and pushing myself to my limits as a leader, reporter, and editor.
I’m extremely proud of the DP’s work throughout 2024. We provided authoritative and thorough coverage of federal investigations into Penn, student activism and Penn’s 16-day pro-Palestinian encampment, the 2024 presidential election, and myriad other stories (Luigi Mangione, anyone?) — and were recognized with several national and regional awards for our work. The unprecedented news cycle posed a significant challenge to our staff, and I’ll always be grateful that we were able to meet the challenge.
That year was the closest I have ever felt to Penn, and the importance of our coverage made all of my mental stress feel justified. The DP became my de facto course of study, replacing any traditional college experience with a much deeper and more nuanced perspective with which to understand everything around me. In the process, I bonded with people from various corners of campus who became some of my closest friends.
But as one does when running on a treadmill, I tended to keep my head down — focusing on my own run, getting fully invested in every incoming breaking news story, and pushing myself to my absolute limits in the spirit of making our coverage as strong as possible. But I eventually got exhausted and tired of running. I felt stretched to my absolute limits by my constant inability to relax, my pounding heartbeat every morning, and the way that I treated those who matter to me.
So, there came a point for me — as there does for everyone, in one form or another — when I had to stop running before I continued injuring myself. My constant focus on the DP and our coverage pushed my head down so far that it became difficult — almost impossible — to notice the potential for connections around me, causing me to become crankier, more reclusive, and more competitive.
My decision to forgo the opportunity to help lead the publication to which I had sacrificed endlessly was agonizingly difficult. My time leading the DP was, by far, the most fulfilling and intellectually stimulating period of my life at Penn. But, as I was deciding between moving upwards in the DP or studying abroad, my stress and mental exhaustion had built up to the point where I was confident that my next step should not be the one which everyone expected of me.
In the year and a half since, I’ve been reminded that there is much beauty to be found in the simple pleasures one enjoys once off of the treadmill. Pursuing activities solely because I enjoyed them was an all-too-difficult joy for me to find — and one which I might never have found without the highs and lows of my DP experience.
Time has since moved much slower for me. And though the DP will always own a part of my heart, and I imagine that it will be what I most associate with my Penn experience in 20 years’ time, it today harbors much more love and gratitude. While still complicated, my relationship with the DP and its people is much healthier.
Many of these relationships, once rooted in frustration, have become underpinned by a deep respect and mutual understanding that those who have lived in the Pink Palace may be the only group of people at Penn who will ever fully understand me — whether derived from shared trauma or my preferred explanation of shared love, humor, and lived experiences.
I also credit my step away from the DP’s day-to-day with the revitalization of my passion for journalism. When caught up in the constant stresses of Penn’s news cycle, I struggled to realize how much I grew in the process and how much my love for journalism blossomed — both of which became apparent when my reporting became a conscious choice rather than a daily obligation. That, to me, defines my passion for journalism: choosing to return to it and stay next to it, even when not on a treadmill necessitating that it dictate my life.
So I want to thank those who have helped me slow down to a walk, whether in the DP or elsewhere. To Peter, Jonah, Jared, Anna, Molly, and all those who came before me; to Katie, Ella, and the rest of the 140th Board; and to Diamy, Emily, Jasmine, and all of the DP editors to come — thank you for your support, companionship, and inspiration.
BEN BINDAY is a College senior studying philosophy, politics, and economics; history; and Spanish, from New York, N.Y. . He served as news editor on the 140th Board of The Daily Pennsylvanian, Inc. Previously, he served as science and health desk editor and a sports reporter. His email is bbinday@sas.upenn.edu.
