Almanac Editor Andrea Gemmet is leaving Embarcadero Media, her home since the '90s. She reflects on her career with the company as she embarks on a new journalism position.

I first joined The Almanac as a cub reporter on the Menlo Park beat and went on to cover just about every beat the newspaper had to offer. After leaving in 2010 to spend 10 years as editor of sister publication the Mountain View Voice, I returned during the early days of the COVID-19 lockdown to lead The Almanac as well. This month, 27 years later, I'm signing off to become editorial director at Menlo Park-based Punch magazine.

I'd like to say that this past month has been one of quiet reflection as I wind down at a thoughtful pace, but instead, my last week at the helm of The Almanac has been a lot like every other week: a seven-day sprint to keep up with the myriad demands of running a small publication.

When you're fresh out of college, it's hard to imagine spending the next quarter-century of your career at the same company, but doing so has been both a privilege and the education of a lifetime. The great thing about journalism, especially community journalism at a place like Embarcadero Media, is that it's never boring. Every day there's something new to learn, an unexpected roadblock to overcome, a fascinating new person to meet or a thorny problem to expose.

Over the years, I've profiled some of the Midpeninsula's fascinating people, covered murders, fires and council meetings, and broke the news of beloved bookstore Kepler's phoenix-like rise after its abrupt closure. I've developed the ability to translate into plain English arcane jargon from traffic studies, court cases, public education budgets and the California Environmental Quality Act.

When I started in the mid-1990s, The Almanac was a print newspaper, with an archive of bound copies and boxes of index cards to help you find an old story. Instead of Google, we had the reference librarian at the Menlo Park Library on speed-dial. A copied page from the newsroom Thomas Guide mapped your route to an assignment, a phone book helped you contact a potential source and your Rolodex was your most precious possession.

That changed very quickly as we evolved into the digital-first news organization we are today. Even though I know exactly how we used to report stories before the internet was an easily accessible trove of information and story tips flowed in from social media, I still can't quite believe that we actually managed to pull it off every week.

My longtime boss, Almanac Editor Richard Hine, used to say every week was like putting out a paper for the very first time, because it never got easier. I thought he was joking until I found myself sitting in his chair and discovered exactly what he meant. The joy of this profession, and the hell of it, is that you are always trying to hit a new moving target, and your reputation depends on getting a bullseye every time. You are always challenged. It is always challenging.

And it can feel like an uphill battle. Independent, ethical journalism is under relentless attack. The struggle to find a business model to support the hard work of reporting is fairly well known. Less so is the gut-punch of finding your work on creepy fake news sites, reproduced without permission to mask whatever propaganda they're peddling, generating revenue for faceless entities with no accountability.

Real journalism allows itself to be held accountable, to its readers, its sources and its community.

The lifeblood of a functioning democracy is an informed electorate, and I've been proud to belong to a news organization that has always taken that role very seriously. Being informed enough not to be manipulated, well-versed enough about your fellow humans to vote for the common good, occasionally at the expense of your own self interest. That used to mean regularly getting news from your choice of reliable media outlets. Today, that means reading your local paper if your community is lucky enough to have one, and bucking the algorithm to expose yourself to a range of ideas and issues, rather than submissively going down a self-reinforcing rabbit hole.

I am heartened by our local Assembly member Marc Berman's media literacy bill to teach California school children to discern the difference between reliable information and enticingly packaged garbage. I wish that curriculum could be expanded, across the country and to all age groups.

For those dark days on the job, when it feels like I can do nothing right in the eyes of our readers, when the hours are long and the right decision hard to discern, I have Francis Lam's quote about journalism on my cubicle wall: "It's a tough job with insane pressure and pretty crappy pay. On the other hand, everybody hates you." It's the kind of dark humor frequently found in newsrooms. The relentless pace and the knowledge that when you do your job properly, somebody is always going to be upset with you, breeds the kind of camaraderie among journalists similar to that ascribed to soldiers in combat.

Leaving my buddies in the newsroom trenches is the hardest part of moving on. One of the most satisfying aspects of my career has been collaborating with my intelligent, funny and dedicated colleagues at The Almanac and its sister publications. I think everyone who has ever left has said that they miss the people and the office culture most of all, and I expect I will be no different. The camaraderie, friendship and teamwork is unmatched.

I've cheered as our reporters got promoted and became editors themselves, like former Almanac assistant editor Julia Brown who now edits The SixFifty and reporter Kevin Forestieri, who took over as Mountain View Voice editor earlier this year. The newest member of those ranks is reporter Angela Swartz, who replaces me as Almanac editor this month. I know Angela will carry on The Almanac's mission of serving the community as both a watchdog and a reflection of the diverse people who make this lovely corner of the world so special. I can't wait to see what she accomplishes.