Only a newspaper.
In her first guest editorial, Emma Hearnes pens a heartfelt tribute to Gippslandia in our final edition.
Apr 17, 2023
At Gippslandia, a query that never fails to garner a giggle is, “Where is the Gippslandia office?”
It’s a question I would have asked myself a few years ago – a young Gippslandian poring through the pages of a publication I loved and imagining the highly funded, highly polished editorial experts behind it.But as someone lucky enough to have gone from fan to family, I can tell you that becoming part of this team has been as surprising as it has been rewarding.
“In their eyes, Gippslandia belongs entirely to the community.”
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Back in 2022, while completing a writing and editing degree, I emailed Gippslandia’s editor, Tim Leeson (and crossed my fingers), about doing my uni placement with them. It was in the very first question of my very first Zoom call with Tim that I realised how off my assumptions were.
“So, there are a lot of articles attributed to ‘Gippslandia’ rather than a specific author – who’s on the internal writing team doing those?”
Tim’s sheepish response, “... me.”
What I expected to be a fully staffed institution was, in reality, a few extremely dedicated individuals running the show in the wee hours – after their 9-to-5 day jobs and in and around raising their youngsters.
And what allowed them to do it – outside of caffeine and sheer determination – was an army of rotating community contributors who believed in Gippsland enough to share their stories, words, photos and illustrations.
The reason this isn’t common knowledge with Gippslandia fans is that this small internal team – almost to a fault – does not believe the publication should be about them.
In their eyes, Gippslandia belongs entirely to the community. The community that inspired them to create it. The community that so generously shares their time, creativity, engagement and support. The community they want, more than anything, to celebrate and uplift.
And their passion for our region is contagious.
When faced with brainstorming article ideas to fill 56 pages for my first issue, I was completely stumped. Now, 10 editions in, I struggle to have a single conversation without mentioning someone from or somewhere in Gippsland.
“You know Gippsland is roughly the size of Switzerland,” is something I’ve said to almost every Uber driver I’ve had. When I returned from a Christmas getaway in a renowned wine region of Victoria, which shall remain nameless, I couldn't wait to tell Tim how much the wine sucked compared to Gippsland’s pours.
Over the last 10 editions, I’ve gone from a uni student unsure what I was interested in doing, just hoping to gain industry experience, to a full-time freelance writer, editor and artist – and I can trace every single opportunity I’ve gotten back to Gippslandia. I have been inspired to focus my career on celebrating regional stories and, as a result, I now write and edit for publications like Galah Press and Pandaemonium and run art workshops for organisations like Regional Arts Victoria.
I have been introduced to a whole network of Gippsland creatives, many of whom have acted as mentors to me. And, it’s been an honour to pay that forward in some small way, sharing what I’ve learned with younger Gippslandians, like the wonderful Darcy Stockdale, previously an outstanding mentee, who has been an invaluable addition to the team over the last year.
What I have learnt from this team, and the incredible extended Gippslandia family, is that belief fuels action. The people making a difference in this community are those who decide it's better to get off your bum and do something than wait for someone supposedly more qualified or better funded to come along with the answers. They see a community in need of serving, put their hand up to help and learn as they go from listening to the members of that community – the real experts.
Since day one, Gippslandia has strived to do just that. And hopefully, along the way, they have inspired others to do the same. I know they have inspired me.
Unfortunately, we have some sad news to share with you – our valued readers. I thought it was only right to pass over to Tim for this bit – who, true to form, generously handed me this editorial space he usually occupies.
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Gippslandia #34 is our last edition. Everyone is extremely proud to have created a supportive platform for a wide range of voices throughout our community (including Emma’s!) and our sense of celebration far outweighs our disappointment in this journey coming to a close.
When launching, we had no idea if we’d even make a second issue. Nine years later, we’ve created a cookbook, launched a pop-up store, supported Gippsland leadership programs, raised money for multiple local causes and mentored many budding creatives. A humble handful of papers has allowed us to do much more than just scrawl down a few million words across 56,000 pages of newsprint each quarter, and, for that, we’re immensely grateful.
For the team, Gippslandia has occurred adjacent to marriages, the arrival of kids, new homes, increasingly grey hair and all the messy challenges of life. Delivery of an issue every three months has been a constant, and the conversations that fill its pages, constantly inspiring.
We believe that just getting out there and doing it – creating that change you want to see is the key to it all. We couldn’t have done it without each other. We couldn’t have done it without you.
Thanks for being part of the Gippslandia family x
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Introducing our final project, the Gippslandia Book – part retrospective, part manifesto for the region.
This beautifully designed publication celebrates the best of the best to have ever graced Gippslandia’s pages.
You can expect a thoughtfully crafted and visually stunning book that will fill your heart and mind as you explore its pages.
Preorder your copy now!