It was a Tuesday around 6:50 p.m. when shots rang out across Boston Common. Students were told to shelter in place several minutes later but a young reporter had managed to barrel down nine flights...

I started writing love columns by accident.  One Wednesday during the first semester of my sophomore year, my boyfriend at the time broke up with me at approximately 5:30 p.m. I had a Beacon production...

When I was looking to transfer out of my tiny liberal arts college in Yellow Springs, Ohio—a town east of Dayton with a population just shy of Emerson’s student body—I ranked the potential schools...

The newsroom had been planning a Beacon party for weeks.  We spend so many hours in a work setting that we need time with each other without all the stress and pressure. And then our lives were flipped...

I’ll never forget the first time I had one of my articles critiqued for The Beacon. I was a first-semester freshman and had just written my first real journalistic article. It was a simple season preview...

When I first joined The Beacon my first semester freshman year, I never once imagined I would be where I am now, as a managing editor, writing a farewell column. I was just a bright-eyed young journalist,...

There’s something beautiful about emerging from the Beacon office on a Thursday morning—having finally finished the print edition—and seeing the sunrise. After being in an underground office for...