I got the call on a rainy day shortly after returning from my semester abroad. I didn't recognize the number, and we were in the middle of a used Kia lot, car shopping for my brother. The "859" area code told me it wasn't a telemarketer, so I ducked into my dad's car to take the call.

"Hi, Hannah." At first I didn't recognize the slightly gravelly voice, but he continued without a reply from me. "Greg Bandy, here. I just wanted to be the first to congratulate you."

A week or so earlier, I'd returned to Asbury after a semester away to sit in front of a panel of professors and staff to be interviewed for the position of executive editor of The Asbury Collegian. It was the most nervous I'd ever been in the newsroom, and I couldn't stop thinking about how red my face was as I did my best to eloquently explain why I was passionate about journalism and maintaining the integrity of the Collegian as a news outlet. 

"Thank you, sir. I won't let you down." (Okay, maybe I didn't say this, but it seems like the sort of thing someone would say in this situation, and I don't remember what I actually said.)

"I just want to make sure you really want this," Professor Bandy said, cutting short the congratulations and thanks. "Are you sure you want to be executive editor? You'll be dealing with a lot of budgets and big-picture stuff. I'd be more than happy to make you managing editor if you'd rather be working with content and personnel more."

There it was: my out. I could relinquish the role of chief commanding officer, the one everyone turns to, the one everyone yells at, in exchange for less responsibility on my shoulders. I could listen to my insecurities and let someone else do the tough job that would require me putting skin in the game.

"Nope." I smiled, and somewhere across state lines, Dr. Sarah Baldwin sighed, wondering what the Student Publications Committee had gotten themselves into. "I am positive I want this. I've waited a long time for it."

I decided to be a writer shortly after receiving my acceptance letter to Asbury. In fact, the first place I officially declared creative writing as my major was at my high school graduation ceremony. Before this, I'd wanted to be a neonatologist. I'd done the research on what major to have, what classes to take, what exams to complete, how long medical school would take, what residency would look like. Then came the bombshell of creative writing, and I was left with a romantic notion of being a published novelist and no research on how to make that happen.

So, what does an aspiring writer do when they step foot on a college campus as a freshman? They run to the student newspaper. At the student activities fair, I signed my name and newly appointed Asbury email address to a piece of computer paper at the Collegian's booth, grabbed a pair of free, cheap plastic sunglasses, and headed on my merry way. A few months later, deep into English literature and creative writing courses, with no notion of journalism on the horizon, I received an email from Karis, the Collegian's news co-editor, about writing a short article for them. Karis and her co-editor, Meredith, wanted to meet with me beforehand, so, for the first of what would become countless times, I entered the fish-tank of the Collegian's newsroom, a notebook and pen in hand.

Sophomore year, I found myself having been talked into both a journalism double-major and a position as the Collegian's news editor by the energetic and persuasive ex-head of the journalism department at Asbury, Dr. David Wheeler, after having just one class with him. This year was a struggle—not only was I dealing with a difficult break up, having three "jobs" (I also worked at Amstar Cinemas and as a writing center tutor), and finding my footing as an infant journalist, but my senior news writer quit after about three weeks, leaving me stranded. At the Collegees that year (think Dundees from the Office, minus [most of] the rudeness), I received the award for "Most Likely to Write Her Entire Section." Despite the roadblocks, Meredith and Jorge—the executive and managing editors at the time—pulled me aside and told me that I had potential at one of our last meetings.

"In two years, I see you as the executive editor, and Kaiser as your managing editor," Meredith told me. "This better happen." Her words echoed in my mind as I accepted the position of executive editor from Prof. Bandy—knowing that she would have been proud of me finally coming into my calling.

My junior year was a year of transition. I left news, which I loved dearly, to be the co-editor of the features section, and I spent the second semester abroad. I found features more difficult to write, and my co-editor left halfway through the first semester. I didn't write all the articles in my section every time, but I still struggled to delegate (a fault of which I am still guilty). That, combined with my dislike of features, meant that I occasionally let articles fall through. I can still see the dismay in Jorge and Allison's eyes when I had to admit what happened at the beginning of the budget meeting.  

And now, senior year, I have finally reached the top of the ladder. 

What is it like to have climbed to the top? To sort of quote the Lion King, I waited to be king and that made it even better.

I'm still in the trenches, but I finally get to be the one who's in control of the next assault, who orchestrates the next line of defense. After years of being on the receiving end of orders—write about this, take this angle, interview this person—and learning how to respect and obey my leaders, I get my chance to leave a legacy of my own, good or bad—but I hope it's good. 

Anyone who knows me, knows that it is difficult for me not to have my hands in every decision that's made, every article that's written, every picture that's taken. I am the self-designated Leslie Knope of the Collegian (minus the unfettered positivity and blonde hair). I like to be in boots and gloves, doing the clean-up of the Pawnee River myself, not telling other people to do it.

However, there's a satisfaction in knowing you're preparing others not to need you anymore, that your leadership has made them better writers, journalists, or leaders themselves. I remember being a sophomore and never dreaming that I would be capable of what Meredith was doing as executive editor, the prospect of fulfilling her vision for my future daunting—but Meredith, Jorge, and Allison all prepared me for the role I now gladly fill. They equipped me with the confidence I needed to accept the position, the blueprints for the responsibilities of the job, and the vision of the Collegian evolving into a better publication with every year and new executive editor that takes on the task of managing it. 

I only hope that I am doing the same for another fledgling journalist on my team today.