Bye bye bye (bye bye)

This month marks one year of Mansur’s Musings. Bitter-sweetly, it will also be my last musing for The Lindsay Advocate, as I’m off to start my master’s in journalism. In fact, at the time you’re reading this, I’m probably wandering around campus orientation, awkwardly looking for the booth to pick up my student ID. So, I’m writing to you from beyond (the border)!

When I started at The Advocate a year ago, I had zero experience or education in journalism. Mostly I had written overly academic essays in undergrad and countless emails at my old corporate job (which taught me a surprising amount about writing simply and succinctly). Our publisher, Roderick Benns, took a chance on me (cue ABBA), welcoming a newcomer onto his team to ensure that other people similarly new to this community might have their perspectives reflected in print. Having only moved to Kawartha Lakes at the beginning of 2024, it’s been so rewarding getting to know this community through interviews for articles, attending local events, and through the occasional delivery of our publications around town. It’s been an honour to be trusted to give our communities’ stories the time, effort, and nuance they deserve, both here and occasionally in the Kawartha Lakes Weekly newspaper.

Through every tight timeline, last minute photoshoot, and thousands of lines of text written, read, and reread, I’ve learnt an indescribable amount from this small but mighty publishing team. But mostly, I’ve learned that local journalism is the lifeblood of a town: it holds a mirror up to our shared lives and reminds us of what matters. Without local media, our widespread community might lose the throughline, the pieces of the puzzle that connect us to our neighbours, celebrating our differences and similarities in equal measure. I’ve seen our publications help people find work in an increasingly difficult job market and give people a voice when they are going otherwise unheard. In an age where attention spans are short and trust in media is often shaken, this magazine has shown me the enduring power of showing up — consistently, thoughtfully, and with care. Plus, there aren’t many publications out there where you can call the publisher directly (and actually get through).

Over the year and a bit that I’ve lived and worked in Lindsay, I found a place and sense of belonging that I never did in 25 years in my hometown of Toronto. Kawartha Lakes also helped me find a new love for my country, with its beautiful nature, kind people, and peaceful energy.

Pursuing further education feels like an expansion, not an exit. I hope to return better — not just with more thoughtful questions, but with a deeper understanding of the changing media world. The kind that equips me to protect local journalism, not just practice it.

So maybe this isn’t quite goodbye. Just the turning of a page, with the promise of another one to come.