I still remember the first time I heard about Glass Magazine. I was a 22-year-old first-year student — mature aged by my peers definitions —and the 2022 Glass editors attended one of my creative writing lectures to tell us about the job. They made it sound so dreamy – editing and designing a real life magazine, creating community on campus, making life long friends — and I was infatuated immediately. The idea of writing for a magazine, or rather, being part of a magazine’s editorial board, was the sort of idealistic, perfect job that I had always wanted, the kind of amazing opportunity you had to be a really good writer to earn. Those editors seemed so adult, so accomplished, so talented. I admit I found it hard to even deign to imagine myself ever possibly filling their shoes. Even in the moment I first learned about Glass, I tried to accept the possibly that I might never be one of them, to save myself the likely future disappointment.
Two years later, here I’m sitting, writing my last ever article for Glass Magazine. The feeling that I’m being forced to leave the perfect job I never thought I would be lucky enough to get is surreal, to say the least.
How did I get here? The truth is almost disappointingly simple and easy. In my second year, I saw that Glass had posted on Instagram that they were looking for new student columnists. I brainstormed for a few weeks, and decided to pitch my only idea; a monthly analysis of different, cheap self-care rituals. I interviewed with one of the 2023 editors, Celeste, who seemed to love my idea. We spoke about my passion for building a sense of community through writing, especially among young people like students. A few weeks later, Celeste asked me to join a ticket she was forming to run for the media positions in the student elections for 2024. Despite her earnest warnings about the difficulties of being in office, I couldn’t bring myself to decline her offer. It was exactly what I had been wanting ever since I first heard the words Glass Magazine.
Well, our team of five was elected unopposed, and I was thrown into the deep end of student media and magazine publishing. I was tentative at first, along with the other fresh editors, Tione and Jess, who were joining the returning 2023 editors, Ben and Celeste, who was now Editor-In-Chief. But I eventually found my footing, and happily integrated myself into the world of student journalism, and life at QUT.
I’ve written a lot of things that I’m proud of in my year at Glass. While journalism has never been one of my talents, I did manage to find joy in reporting on the cancellation of Splendour and other Australian music festivals, QUT’s lack of a disability room, Greece’s legalisation of gay marriage, and Jojo Siwa’s foreboding rise in popularity. Over the year I wrote 11 reviews — for things like Saltburn, the brat album, the indie Switch game Gris, and A Language of Limbs by author Dublin Hardcastle, who I was lucky enough to interview for Glass’ podcast Just To Be Clear.
The 2024 team has been through a lot together; an almost-coup, a run-in with uni band divas, getting trolled in the comments of our posts, and the desperate job hunt that took place during our last few weeks in office as it finally hit home that we wouldn’t get to do this forever. The feeling that we had just poured our absolute hearts and souls into this magazine, only to have to leave once our terms ended with our study plans, was heartbreaking.
As a team, we’ve achieved a lot. Most notably the creation of our podcast, Just To Be Clear, an extremely successful Battle of the Bands, an interview with Heartbreak High heartthrob Thomas Weatherall, six print magazines, and, who can forget, getting to attend the Student Media Conference in Sydney, hosted by stujo trailblazers, Honi Soit of USYD. We will never forget getting voted as Most Personable by the other student magazines, and getting the opportunity to network and bond with some of Australia’s most talented young writers and journalists.
I found some amazing friends in Glass — my sincerest apologies to all members of the Guild SRC that always had to watch my fellow editor Ben and I constantly giggle to each other beginning, during and after our tense and arduous council meetings. We’ve made a lot of memories together, unrelated to the magazine, like eating sitting in the sun on the grassy hill outside our office, eating bagels with Tione, or always having long, deep and meaningful chats with Celeste every time we were left in the office together.
As I write this, I’m finishing my last day working at Glass. It’s a day I always knew was coming, but has, nevertheless, come way too soon. This has been the best job I’ve ever had, and the only thing that gives me the strength to let go of the role is knowing that other young writers will get to experience and love something that I have had the privilege to love. It’s such an amazing job that they literally have to kick us out, or else we would never leave. The exclusive club of ex-Glass Editors is still small, but I hope that the club grows more and more every year, so I can meet more people who have shared the same year of my life.
