Editing, Chiefly
Or is it “chefly” or “cheffily” or “chuffingly”
According to some North American etiquette authorities, it’s acceptable to send newlyweds a gift up to an entire year after the wedding. I remember being floored by this tidbit when I first learned about it many, many years ago, as I grew up in a culture where it would be more or less unthinkable for an adult to show up empty-handed at any social gathering, let alone a wedding. A year! What if… they move to an off-the-grid cabin where your fancy cocktail glasses might never reach them? What if a global pandemic starts just as you bestow the couple with thousands of airmiles? So many things can go awry!
I’ve been thinking quite a bit about time and the proper quantities of it one may or may not take to do certain things. Just a month ago, I joined Towards Data Science as Editor in Chief, a change I was — and am—very excited about. I’ve wanted to introduce myself to the publication’s massive community of readers and writers ever since (HI!), but I also didn’t want to introduce myself without knowing more about the people I’m currently waving at (figuratively, I promise) the way you one does at the beginning and/or end of a Zoom meeting. (If you don’t do the Zoom wave, I understand you, I admire you, but also: please, just join us! We can’t help ourselves!)
After a few weeks on the job; many a conversation with my stellar teammates Anne Bonner, Caitlin Kindig, Elliot Gunn, and Ludovic Benistant; and a whole bunch of exchanges with our incredible Editorial Associates and authors, it felt like it was time. There’s still so much for me to learn about TDS, and about the greater universe of data science, AI, and machine learning. But I also sense that I’m no longer at the “I carried a watermelon” stage of discovering a new world. I have thoughts, and questions (roughly 1,528. A day.), and even a few ideas. Mostly, I feel welcome, and grateful for the chance to work on topics and challenges that are so central to our current moment, messy as it is. (Oh, it’s so messy.)
Like many a data scientist I’ve crossed paths with over the years, my road to TDS was anything but direct. I’ve lived in a bunch of places, including long(er) stints in Tel Aviv, New York, Philadelphia, Paris, and, for the past decade, Vancouver. I studied a smattering of things; in a past life, I was centimeters away from becoming a professor of 18th-century French culture. And, until last summer, I’d spent the past 7+ years as the lead of Automattic’s Editorial team — a feisty group that, among other tech-y and content-y things, also produced two top-notch, award-winning longform web magazines. After a much-needed pause — full of baking and strolling and kid-schlepping — I saw the opportunity to join TDS. Almost instantly, it felt like a very natural progression for a life full of hairpin turns: a place where my love of storytelling and experimentation would fit right in, but a wholly new domain in almost every other way.
Publications typically bring on a new editor in chief in times of major transition, if not crisis. It’s a very rare privilege to take on such a role when the team you’ve joined has, on the contrary, been on a constant trajectory of growth and success. It leaves me and my colleagues in a position to focus on what I might call the good stuff: finding the best, most engaging voices in our field; supporting our writers as they share their knowledge and wisdom with readers; and continuing to build TDS as a publication and a community that is inclusive of data scientists of all stripes, backgrounds, and identities.
For now: thank you to everyone who’s already offered me such a warm welcome. I can’t wait to get to know many more of you who are part of the TDS community. Here’s to learning, generosity, and solidarity. It’s never too early, nor too late, for these.
