Parting Shots
Olivia G. Oldham ’20, Chair
The worst part of Zoom meetings is the beginning, when whoever’s in charge has to say, “Hey, how’s everyone doing?”, only to face a sea of muted microphones and, if people are feeling generous, a few nods. At Zoom FM writers’ meetings, though, I never had to worry about this. As soon as I asked the question, Olivia was unmuted, smiling, ready with an anecdote from that week’s comp meeting.
This is what Olivia does: They step up to ensure that others feel comfortable to speak, write, laugh. This makes them a good reporter — they make sources feel heard, and they ensure that sources are represented fairly. This makes them a wonderful writer, able to shed new light on big topics — like socioeconomic inequality at Harvard — and smaller topics — like dancing and comics — alike. This has made them a stellar comp director, who has trained our new writers with patience and wit and turned our comp into a multimedia experience. And I know it will make them a brilliant chair.
Olivia: Your warmth and thoughtfulness — your ability to make everyone feel welcome and heard — have translated easily into the virtual world, and I can’t wait to see how they translate into your role as chair. I don’t know what I will do when I have to start Zoom meetings and there is no one who responds to my how-are-you’s. I hope we can meet again in person someday soon, when we can share spiced foods (heavy on the harissa and paprika) and you can tell me all about being chair. Until then, I can’t wait to see the mag thrive under your leadership!
— NHP
Matteo N. Wong ’20, Chair
When at last the dust settled on “apocalypse week,” when we had vacated campus and settled into new lives at home and under lockdown, Nina and I faced a reality in which FM was — understandably, justifiably — not at the top of anyone’s mind. We’d publish online and limp our way to the end of the semester, we decided; we’d salvage what we could and scrap the rest.
For months, Matteo had been working on an expansive enterprise project on Harvard’s relationship with China, and when we spoke over the phone after we both had returned home, I realized that he had no intention of scrapping it — or just “salvaging” it either. I offered that we could delay publishing the piece to the fall or scale down its scope; I worried about archives now impossible to access and sources probably in the wind already. Matteo didn’t: “Give me two weeks,” he said. “I can finish this.”
Over the next few days, I got to witness Matteo at his finest. He was diligent: He tracked down his sources and identified a mystery figure at the center of the investigation. He was empathetic: When a source feared the implications of speaking on the record, he put himself in their shoes and made sure to insulate them from the story’s fallout. And most of all, he was selfless: Matteo wrote not for glamor or for glory but because he genuinely believed in the public service his work could provide.
And as it turned out, Matteo had a lot to say: After two weeks, he had written nearly 10,000 words about Harvard’s relationship with China. We didn’t have to scrap our efforts or attempt to salvage them, his work proved. FM could thrive in this new, weird, remote setting — and Matteo inspired all of us to stay at our best, even when things seemed at their worst. When the story was published, he set out to do it all over again.
I feel so lucky to be able to watch Matteo at FM’s helm this coming year. He still has so much more to say.
— AWDA
Andrew W.D. Aoyama ’21, Chair
As we were both gearing up for finals season amid a pandemic, I sent Andrew a draft nearly triple the upper word count. I suspect he groaned upon realizing his store of sweet potatoes and peanut butter would not last him through editing that monstrosity — but if that’s really what happened he told me none of it. Instead, he replied with his own essay’s worth of insightful feedback that, miraculously, included a way to give structure to that mess.
Andrew’s tremendous attention to detail and dedication to his craft, writing hard-hitting and award-winning piece after piece, has never ceased to amaze me. He once told me his pitching strategy was to pitch smaller investigations and submit scrut-length epics. He not only took on the world — the college admissions process, the A.D., gentrification, Stouffer’s lasagna — and held his own, but translated that intensity into care and generosity as an editor, comp director, and chair, encouraging every FM writer, too, to never back down. The monthly glossy never came to be, but between steering our coverage and community through a pandemic, providing support and understanding in reporting and personal crises alike, and sharing tea, harissa, raw zucchini sticks, and in-hindsight-ill-advised cinnamon rolls, I feel safe writing on behalf of FM that we forgive you.
Andrew, thank you for the kindness, tenacity, brilliance, and integrity you brought to FM. I think everyone in the room teared up one year ago when, at the last writers’ meeting before you became chair, you shared how you first came to feel at home at FM; I am tearing up again now, imagining the magazine without you.
— MNW
Nina H. Pasquini ’21, Chair
If anything, Nina is multifaceted. She’s fun: Last Valentine’s Day, she sang and danced to Taylor Swift at Adams Carpe. She’s generous: When I ate upwards of seven helpings of the harissa she and AWDA brought back from Tunisia and promptly got embarrassed and apologized, she encouraged me to eat more. She has a broad fanbase: Nina is the only person I know who has received a (mostly) nice comment from a notoriously brutal Crimson commenter, who will remain anonymous. She’s graceful in the face of adversity: When, time and time again, the same piece of intel has come up in her Grand Elections roasts, she’s weathered it with a smile. And, finally, she’s brave: Last year, when I asked her why she decided to lead a cohort of nervy adolescents alone through the woods — i.e., become a FOP leader — she explained that she simply wanted to try something new.
Above all, Nina is notoriously kind. She’s generous with her energy and her care, which is what has made her such a wonderful chair. The harshest thing you’ll ever hear Nina say is a semi-skeptical “Yeah. . .” before offering advice on how to make your idea better, your sourcing stronger, or your word choice more precise. Even on crowded Zoom calls, she has a tendency to quietly laugh at off-kilter remarks, finding pleasure in the chaos of our virtual writers’ meetings. (Thank you, Nina, for not treating my desire to name my daughter Paprika as weird, and instead turn the idea into an icebreaker.) I’m truly so excited to see all the places she goes and all the things she will do — write! do photography! climb mountains! — unburdened by the dread of a bi-annual roast.
— OGO
Jane Z. Li ’20, Editor-at-Large
Jane is someone you can always trust to pick up on what everyone else has missed. The number of times I have shared a furtive glance with Jane — and have been met with a warm smile — is beyond quantification. Jane even texts warmly. Every message I have ever received from her has felt like she is handing me a cup of hot chocolate and kindly patting me on the back. Underlying Jane’s universal kindness and balancing presence is a deep thoughtfulness, one that infuses all of her meticulous and vivid writing. I have been genuinely floored by all the time and effort Jane puts into every round of front-end editing done with a writer — her comments and pitch angles are always so insightful.
Jane, I will miss sitting next to you on the FM office sofa, gabbing and guffawing into the night. I have no doubt that you and Scott will be a powerful duo that will edit and EAL brilliantly together. I am so, so happy that younger generations of FM will have you as a mentor figure. I look forward to hearing about your EAL escapades. Onward!
— VMK
Scott P. Mahon ’20, Editor-at-Large
Scott and I have a routine. When we see each other on campus, be it in front of the Harvard Art Museums or in the Yard, one of us begins the call. Sometimes I begin. “SHIH!” Then, Scott will add, “KAH!” And finally, I’ll close it out with, “GO!” Together, we have sounded out the name of our hometown, Chicago. I might fist-pump and yelp. Then we both go on our merry ways. Actually, I would argue it is only my hometown, since Scott happens to be from The Suburbs. Still, for the sake of being real, true Midwestern buddies, Scott and I have mutually decided to ignore the salient differences between Chicagoland and Chicago. I can’t tell you how many times this has made my day so much better. Thank you Scott. I have no idea how we came up with this little routine, but thank God we did. Oh, and every time I see a TikTok from you on my For You Page, my day is officially made.
I have no doubt you will make incoming classes of FM writers immediately feel at home with your humor and contagious laugh. I’m so excited to see you and Jane take FM EAL-dom by storm!
— VMK
Vivekae M. Kim ’21, Editor-at-Large
When I met Vivekae at the Activities Fair my freshman fall, I had already spent an hour ducking between clusters of upperclassmen vying for my attention. Overwhelmed, I stumbled upon The Crimson’s tables, clutching miscellaneous flyers in my hands. Then Vivekae spotted me — she asked for my name, we realized we had a mutual friend, and our conversation flowed easily from there. That was my first, but definitely not my last, experience with Vivekae’s immaculate vibes. She emanated positivity and was effortlessly funny — qualities which likely fuel her budding fame on TikTok — and my grip on the flyers loosened as she described her experience with FM, my anxiety falling away as her enthusiasm escalated.
Before she turned away, probably to greet another bewildered freshman with her sunny smile and impeccable eyeliner, she made one more plug: “You should join FM.”
Vivekae: I’m so grateful that you approached me that day. FM is a huge source of joy for me, and your patient editing and constant encouragement have been integral to that. It’ll be hard to follow in your footsteps. I doubt Scott and I can generate pitch form questions more contentious than “Is making oatmeal in oatmilk cannibalism” — not to mention that you restricted the responses to “numerical” — and creating an emoji more iconic than “%^)” is a monumental task. You’re the spark that brightens our writers’ meetings, and we’re so lucky to have experienced the version of FM that has you in it.
— JZL
The first time I met Vivekae, we bonded over the fact we were both from Chicago — and then she realized I was from “the suburbs.” Even so, our midwest camaraderie lived on. I got a text from VMK soon after we met that read, “we will bring down the coastal elite power structure and liberate the masses.” It’s not just her midwestern roots that makes VMK top-tier: There’s also her elite sense of humor, her ability to make anyone smile, her TikTok constantly hovering on the brink of virality. I have no idea how we will fill your void in writers’ meetings — Jane and I will need to write extra pithy jokes in the chat and I’ll need to overcompensate for Leverett House’s mediocrity even more now.
Vivekae: I know you’ll do amazing things. Co-founder of Stories at the Border, brilliant advocate, dedicated journalist, elite dancer, amazing friend, kind soul, the list goes on. Thank you for everything you’ve done over the past year. FM will truly not be the same without you. (How in the world will Jane and I come up with half as clever pitch form questions as you?!) FM has been lucky to have you for the past year, and we’re all excited to see what you’ll do next.
— SPM