“It’s all about us.”

So goes the motto of The Ferndale Enterprise, the 131-year-old weekly newspaper my parents run in tiny Ferndale, Calif. They bought the paper when I was 10. Then, I thought “us” meant the newspaper staff — the copy editor, Linnie Blattner ’59, the editorial cartoonist, Jack Mays, the columnist, Wendy Lestina, my siblings, schlepping bundles of papers up and down Main Street in a red wagon, and my mom, the editor.

Wrong. “Us,” my mom began to write in an annual letter to subscribers, meant “the community we live and work in and are proud to call home.” I came to appreciate her definition. It included all 1,500 readers, some in Ferndale and some in far-flung places, all of whom cared about the city and its stories.

For us — all of us — things were not always easy. In a close-knit community, it can be difficult to see your name in the paper or to be held accountable as a public official. Regardless, my mom packed the paper with local names and called out the city and school board on open-meeting laws.

It can be difficult to jump into a public debate or to welcome scrutiny, but all the same, she ran letter after letter, including ones critical of The Enterprise.

It can be difficult to confront bigotry or suspicion in your backyard, but Ferndale did after my mom covered the city’s once-discriminatory business-permitting practices and investigated the fraud-tainted downfall of Humboldt Creamery, a locally run economic powerhouse.

Why all the discomfort?

Because a vibrant newspaper improves its community — to showcase the best and shine a light on what it can do better. Week by week for 10 years, The Enterprise has done that. When it has succeeded — when meetings are opened, when policy debates air, when we chronicle difficult stories — my dad likes to say, “Everything else is diminished.”

Stanford and The Daily are not so different.

In this close-knit community, you may face discomfort in The Daily’s pages. You may disagree with an opinions piece, read a story you prefer didn’t appear or feel a nagging call to engage with Stanford more deeply than you want to.

We hope, however, you will also see Stanford’s best in these pages. You will see our sports wins, our community’s most interesting characters and debates about our school’s policies. If you choose, you will see your own voice in our letters. You will see corrections when we make mistakes. And you will see, on every page on every weekday, names, photos and stories that are uniquely Stanford.

Since 1892, The Daily has pursued its mission: to inform the Stanford community and educate young journalists. In 1973, it became independent of the University, negating the mandate on the sign that now hangs on the wall of the editor in chief’s office: “Distribution of printed material without prior written consent of Stanford University management is prohibited.”

This fall, 40 editors and scores more writers returned to continue covering Stanford. Eighteen of those staff interned in newsrooms around the world this summer, many of them bringing back rich journalism experience to their Daily jobs. They and the rest of the staff chronicle Stanford with a commitment not to any common political ideology or social niche, but simply to tell great stories, fairly and accurately.

But it’s not just about the staff. It’s about you, whether you join, subscribe, write in or speak out. Your opportunities are coming up: all are welcome to join The Daily at 101X on Monday, Sept. 27 at 7 p.m. You can subscribe on our website, stanforddaily.com, to get our headlines every morning in your inbox. You can pen a letter or op-ed by e-mailing [email protected]. And you may get the ear of our editors anytime by checking out the staff box on page four.

It may be difficult, but the payoff of your participation in Stanford life will diminish the rest. Here in The Daily, for the rest of Volume 238, it’s all about us.