It’s fourth quarter, and you know what that means… time for the juniors to kiss up to seniors with important titles like there’s no tomorrow. Editor-in-Chief isn’t just a leadership position — it’s a religion. Welcome to the Chron-clave.
1. Confirm the Vacancy.
The sitting Editors-in-Chief have either been accepted to college or fallen ill. Senioritis. We hear it’s terminal. The CEO of HW Media announces that The Chronicle has entered a state of “sede vacante.” A period of mourning begins, as journalists throughout Los Angeles shed tears over the loss of the leaders of their third-best newspaper.
2. Lock down Weiler.
The College of Editors goes into “chron-clave mode” — complete media blackout, no Tik Tok, no shirtless Instagram stories from an unnamed Executive Editor, no outside contact.
3. Vet the Voters.
Only media advisers, the CEO, and senior-year editors can vote. Chronicle tradition holds that the electors’ votes are inspired by the Spirit of the Holy Chronicle itself. Watch out for splits along factional lines — news writers vs. features snobs, or even opinion vs. sports. Kidding about sports by the way. We just needed another comparison.
4. Set the Ground Rules.
At the start of the Chron-clave, members of the College of Editors swear an oath of secrecy and loyalty. Candidates are also warned against openly campaigning, although layout snack bribes are often taken under quiet consideration.
5. Conduct Initial Ballots.
Voting begins with secret ballots, and a two-thirds majority is required to elect new Editors-in-Chief. Ballots are handwritten, folded and placed in Ralph’s grocery bag among sugar cookie crumbs and a $200 receipt. After each round of voting, they are burned in the Weiler parking lot along with layout trash and one selected underperforming sophomore. Onlookers watch the smoke as the election progresses — black smoke means new editors-in-chief have not yet been elected, and white smoke signifies that a two-thirds majority has been reached.
6. Eliminate the Nonstarters.
After a few votes, obvious long-shot candidates are eliminated. If you regularly miss layout or can’t remember not to use Oxford commas, then your odds are zero. Real contenders (editorabili) emerge. Candidates are promised positions as lesser editors (like print managing editor, executive editor, or even attendance coordinator) in exchange for their support. The often unpredictable nature of the process is exemplified by the saying, “The one who goes into the Chron-clave an Editor-in-Chief, comes out a business manager.”
7. Elect the New Editors-in-Chief.
The Chron-clave may last for days or weeks — the longest one in history lasted for over a year and resulted in numerous parent-teacher conferences.
8. Pick a New Name.
The Editors-in-Chief choose new regnal names. Eden, for instance, carries Biblical connotations that suggest a return to more traditional student journalism, and Connor is an Irish name meaning “lover of wolves,” signifying that he got that dawg in him.
9. Announce to the World.
White smoke from the Weiler 104 chimney signals a successful election. The new editors-in-chief appear on the balcony of St. Common’s Basilica, and the CEO declares, “Habemus Editores!” (“We have Editors-in-Chief!”)
