I’m not a journalism major.
People often tilt their heads in confusion after learning the editor-in-chief of one of the country’s largest student newsrooms has never taken an introductory reporting class.
Four years ago, I planned to enroll at UF as a journalism student. My dad objected loudly. He said print media had no future, and I believed him. After all, he quit his 28-year career at the Orlando Sentinel in 2011 to work in public relations. He knew about escaping the industry.
I selected the closest major I could to journalism, housed within the same college but with a ridiculously long title: “media production, management and technology.”
As an underclassman, I joined a student-run public relations firm and tried copywriting for an advertising agency. Still, I couldn’t escape the pull of newswriting and applied for The Alligator as a second-semester freshman. With zero news experience, I got rejected as a reporter but accepted as a copy editor.
After a semester spent fact-checking each printed story, I re-applied my sophomore Fall and landed a reporting spot on the metro desk.
That’s when everything changed. I learned how to craft ledes, conduct interviews and pitch stories. I wrote about a chicken-coop empire and a homeless newspaper service.
My Alligator desk editors turned a girl who couldn’t even write a nut graf into a confident reporter. Siena Duncan, I will never look up to anyone like I do to you. I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t believe I could be. Kylie Williams, thank you for shepherding me through my crashout semester and modeling thoughtful journalism.
Just like me, many of my Alligator peers have been told journalism is dying. It's hard work and little pay. Adults today follow the news less than ever, instead leaning on social media for information and entertainment.
So why do students fill The Alligator’s newsroom every Sunday for our staff meetings, spilling out into the hallway and onto the floor? It’s a common belief that the stories we share matter.
When I think about the future of our industry, I no longer picture my dad’s doubtful face. I picture the faces I see every time I step into our office, full of pitches and passion.
Some of those faces live especially large.
Whenever anyone complimented my leadership this semester, I told them I was doing my “best Alissa Gary impression.” Alissa, you guided some of my proudest bylines on the university desk. Later serving as a managing editor to your editor-in-chief was an honor. Sophia Bailly, the other member of our Fall 2025 “big three,” you have the biggest heart in any room you walk into. Never change.
I’m lucky to share an apartment as well as an office with two of my favorite people. Corey Fiske, we’ve seen each other’s lowest moments — from a University Avenue bench to Sophia’s sister’s bathroom. Without you, I would’ve lost my sanity long ago. Stay awesome. And Ryan Friedenberg: We met under odd circumstances. I’m glad we had the sense to become friends anyway. The unifying factor in my favorite Alligator bylines is your photos under the headline.
My final editorial board contained three women who inspire me daily.
Megan Maria Howard, everything you touch sparkles. Thank you for baking muffins and making me laugh on the most stressful nights (of which there were many). Sara-James Ranta, your passion for journalism has amazed me since our first university desk Zoom meeting. And Pristine Thai: When I count all the blessings The Alligator brought me, you’re at the top of the list. I want to vent in the car with you on the way home from Sunday meetings forever.
My Spring 2026 editors — Sofia Meyers, Bailey Diem, Vera Lucia Pappaterra, Noah Lantor, Bayden Armstrong, Sofia Bravo, Ava DiCecca, Max Bernstein and Avery Parker — our industry needs you. Thank you for making this place so hard to leave.
Most of all, my parents have remained my rock over the last three and a half years.
In my favorite photo of me and my dad, we’re barreling toward the finish line of a local 5K race. I’m a second grader with pigtails, breaking into a sprint as my dad grins with raised arms. Dad, 14 years later, I’m still so proud to be running in your footsteps. I know this isn’t the career you wanted for me, but thank you for cheering me on anyway.
The Alligator drove me to tears of stress countless times. Pulled over on the highway en route to a meeting. Curled on the bed of my Midtown apartment. Every time, the common thread was my mom’s voice — echoing from the phone pressed to my ear, telling me it will be OK. Mom, thanks for being my biggest fan and safe place.
My dad titled his final column for the Orlando Sentinel “Good journalism still about sticking your neck out.” That sentiment remains true. The stories might look different, told through data graphics rather than ink, scrolling on a phone rather than a printing press. But that doesn’t make them less valuable.
Thanks to The Alligator, I’m no longer hiding from my passion for news.
When people ask me my major now, I usually just say “journalism.” Maybe it’s a white lie, but it’s four words shorter. And feels a lot truer.
Zoey Thomas was the Spring 2026 Editor-in-Chief.
Zoey Thomas is a UF media production senior and the Spring 2026 editor-in-chief of The Alligator. She has previously been data editor and engagement managing editor, as well as a reporter for three semesters. She was also a intern at the Orlando Sentinel. In her sparse free time, Zoey enjoys reading a good book, going for a run or waking up her roommates with the sound of her espresso machine.
