Posts Tagged college
My Balancing Act
Posted by Emily in Spilled Thoughts on September 9, 2009
It’s time for you to prove,
Within your ruby shoes,
You deserve a smile with no regret,
Look at you kicking off your shoes,
Dancing for the world to see,
Now open up and see, And go be free and fly away…
I probably do not know what I am getting myself into honestly. This whole college experience journalism thing? Yeah, who was I kidding?
I thought for a few minutes there I had this whole college thing down. Freshmen year was knocked out of the park and my summer living on my own in Bowling Green was a complete success. I had figured out where the bathrooms are in all the buildings on campus, found the quickest way to master the hill from my residence hall to TCCW, and even seemed to say, “Meal Plan” with such confidence I appeared to be saying it for years.
But I guess it serves me right for thinking I had it all figured out. And how intelligent am I for thinking 15 hours of classes and working part-time at the university was just not enough?
Now here I am working to perfect that amazing balancing act I have going with class/work, (all on my head of course), putting my fancy journalism major to good use as I freelance for the Kentucky New Era and work as the newest College Heights Herald’s sports general assignment reporter.
With my fancy voice recorder in hand, pen working furiously, questions buzzing in my head, I have never done anything more exciting than the work of a journalist. From the few stories I have been involved with thus far in my brief career, I can say I have learned more from those experiences than from hours and hours in a classroom. Suddenly this whole journalism thing I have been studying for the past year has become a beautiful and real thing to me. Beautiful. Yes. Real. YES. But I refuse to sugarcoat this for you, because honestly I feel like as I am seeking truth and answers to my many questions about the industry, you are probably on the same scavenger hunt.
I’ll give it to you straight: Its not easy. Deadlines are a constant. If you think you have some time, well you are wrong. If you think an interview will go smoothly when you are crunched for time, well you are wrong. You always need more information. You always could have done more research. Each day, I feel like I have no idea what I am doing. I feel like I have everything to learn and no one is just going to pass out the answers to the test. But maybe that’s the process. Maybe its better to start out brand new, so that you can dig deeper and seek a little harder. Maybe everyone has to start at the bottom to make reaching the peak so breathtaking.
While what I do know is little, what I have learned in the past few weeks speaks volumes. This experience I am gaining right now is vital after the next few years of college pass. I am so thankful to be surrounded by amazing people, who will go to many vast places in this huge world and will inspire me to do the same. My high stress level is worth every minute.
I do not have everything figured out. Fifty years from now, I probably still will not have it all figured out. But I have never have I anticipated the small discoveries along the way more.
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Office of yada-yada, this is Emily.
Posted by Emily in Spilled Thoughts on June 30, 2009
Courtesy of Nika Fadul
“You stumble down your yellow brick road
Spinnin your shoes in the air, the air–
Then you hold your breath and count to nine
Hopin that soon somebody will find you, find you.”
I am staring down an empty hallway of TCCW on Western Kentucky University’s campus. Occasionally a man with a foreign accent will come in and pass my desk (as he just did) and other times I clear my throat, ease the phone into my right hand on the second ring and say so rhythmically, “Office of yada-yada, this is Emily.” Say hi to my summer job.
The next two months seem so daunting. For starters, I am living on my own. Yes (scary thoughts). So in short that means living off of pizza rolls, eating the “Breakfast of Champions” (strawberry frosted Pop-Tarts), learning to love Ramen noodles, and truly appreciating the time I spend at home.
Every morning I am awake and ready to go by 7:55 A.M. and at the office by 8 A.M. sharp (and trust in this: waking up early hurts). Its not the best feeling to set an alarm each night before you close your eyes, but the money in my bank account is worth the painful process of opening my phone, then the main menu, organizer, and finally the alarms tab. I must note my summer’s have not normally been this way.
My “average” summer:
- At home.
- Horse-back riding every evening.
- Swimming/laying out for the majority of the day.
- A part-time 20 hr or so a week job.
- Seeing friends every night.
This summer:
- In Bowling Green.
- Trying to make new friends and hoping to see my old friends every weekend I can.
- Working 40 hrs. a week.
- Soaking up an interior lights tan as a secretary.
Note the difference? But that’s okay, I think…
(Pause as I learn how to use the fax machine.)
Earlier my Mom sent me a message on Facebook (yes, my mom has a Facebook now…) that read, “I am so proud of you Emily. This job was a huge step for you and you are doing so well.” And sure that sounds like just something a mother would say, but I will hold on to it for a little while longer. I do not know how well I am doing, but she is right. This is a HUGE step for me. Living on my own. Making my own dinner every night. Two hours from the place I consider a colossal part of what makes me who I am…
A couple years ago, the thought of dropping off a job application terrified me. The possibility of attending an interview made me hyperventilate. And for ages, I considered myself SO INDEPENDENT, but came to a rude awakening when that shiny flashy image in my head of myself [ me hopping in my yellow mustang convertible, my dark brunette hair down, speeding off into the sunset, not for a second glancing in the rear view mirror] was simply a falsehood. The portrait of that girl was not me at all. Oh no. I pull out of the driveway in a mid-nineties vehicle that often looks black, (yet really its green) and stare misty-eyed as I proceed in the distance, occasionally tapping the brakes. So it must have came as kind of a shock to my parents when I called rejoicing about accepting a summer job offer away from home. A shock not only to them, but to myself as well.
As classes met their conclusions of the spring semester, cars waited to be loaded for drive homes, and finals grade were posted, I was walking across campus by myself one afternoon and it hit me. The true fear smacked me in the face. The terror of being alone struck. I had only a few days to gather my thoughts, relax after classes, take a few deep breaths before I dove into summer employment. My time away from campus was short. I was originally given 5 days off, but received a phone-call from my boss a day early asking if it was at all possible, could I come into work early…. Not what you really want to hear…. AT ALL. I laughed later with my parents as I hurriedly packed, “My boss could ask me, ‘Do you want to come in on your day off? Do you want to organize this 50 year old office? Do you want to move to Asia?’ The answer is always yes. I want to do it!”
I did not have time to be nervous. Work would not wait for me to get over my longing to be home for the summer. [Note: Nothing is going to wait for you to be ready for it.]
But this heart piercing fear that I felt post acceptance of the job and observing my friends pack to head home somehow evolved into the need to arrive at work five minutes early each day and smile as I locked the office at 4:30 every afternoon. I found myself comfortable in my office chair, laughing with my boss, after work running a loop around campus waving at people I know, and having Tuesday night dinners at a work friend’s apartment.
To me the first year of college was the year I learned more than I wanted to know about myself… the good and bad, pretty and oh so ugly truths about myself. To name a few: I am addicted to football, (which I am so thankful my amazing roommate and neighbors accept my screaming rampage when a Manning interception is thrown). I like home. If my Hilltoppers Basketball podcast won’t upload, best leave me alone. I like to study when its dead quiet. The better my relationship is with God is the better I feel. Night classes make me grumpy. I love having a job. And many many more…. This summer has followed gracefully as a second act, contributing steadily to the countless discoveries that Western Kentucky University has unveiled for me about myself. And as much as I look forward to Fridays, I have learned that I also look forward to the start of a new work week.
So I sit behind my desk recently informed that I will have my own name plate that reads with professionalism and maturity, “EMILY PATTON,” experiencing a summer quite unlike any other, and learning more than I ever thought with closed books, nonexistent homework assignments and outside of a classroom… and that’s more than okay.
What you are NOT going to teach me…
Posted by Emily in Journalism 101 on February 15, 2009
From “Old Thinking Permeates Major Journalism School”
I am convinced that I am taking the only old-but-new-but-still-old media class in the country. At this point I may not learn too much I don’t already know about my generation and where it’s taking journalism. But one thing’s for sure — I’m certainly going to gain some insight into what exactly they mean by generation gap. To access this post, visit: http://www.pbs.org/mediashift/2008/09/old-thinking-permeates-major-journalism-school249.html
Alana Taylor, a junior at NYU, could be considered a quite controversial blogger (in the most negative connotation of the words ‘controversial’ and ‘blogger’), or… could she actually be onto something?
Taylor wrote in her post, “Old Thinking Permeates Major Journalism School” of the lacking in her “Reporting Gen Y” journalism class. After reading the post, I feel like I have sat through a journalism class at New York University, and have felt the anger and frustration that Taylor feels. However, is it justified anger?
For starters, let us move pass the obvious. College costs money. Money that most cannot just shovel out for an empty degree.
Question: Why do we pay the overpriced tuition costs?
(Hands raise)
Answer: To get a degree for a job to make more money. (Fine print reads: at least that is the plan.)
More from Alana Taylor’s “Old Thinking Permeates Major Journalism School”
Disappointment at NYU
What is so fascinating about the move from print to digital is the freedom to be your own publisher, editor, marketer, and brand. But, surprisingly, NYU does not offer the kinds of classes I want. It continues to focus its core requirements around learning how to work your way up the traditional journalism ladder. Here is the thinking I find here:
1. Get an internship at a magazine or newspaper. “This is good for your resume.”
2. Bring the New York Times to class. The hard copy. “It’s the only way to get the news.”
3. Learn how to write for a magazine or newspaper. “Writing for blogs or websites is not journalism.”
4. Become an editor at a magazine or newspaper. “This is the only respectable position.”
So hold on, hold on… let me get this right. According to Alana, she is paying money for a degree that is helping her land a job in the 90s. Well that is ok, sure, they are a few years behind, but you know what, our economy is doing lovely, so she will do just fine. (Cynical laughter follows)
In my first journalism class, I almost left with tears one morning. Not because of the stress level or perhaps it was a cold winter day, but it seemed to me I was attending a funeral without my knowledge. An industry, who had been on its deathbed for sometime, had officially passed over. I left thinking, “What am I doing in a major for a dying industry?” That is when fear overcame me. Suddenly, the grief over my loved one had vanished, and now anger and fear resided in its wake. The questions kept arising, “How am I going to get a job? How am I going to make any money? Where do I go to change my major?”
Then, something happened. The fear and anger slowly dissolved as I sat learning the next semester about blogging, podcasts, online reporting, and about the growth of journalism in the digital generation. I have always been a fan of blogging, from reading friend’s blogs to simply surfing on the web reading. But I had never known the simple beauty of typing your own thoughts.
Today, journalists have to learn to go digital. It is essential. Alana is paying money to become more knowledgeable about a career she wishes to pursue. The strange thing about this choice of profession is that it is changing. A university must adapt, change, and better itself to better its students. This may consist in letting go of the traditions, the New York Times (deep breath everyone), and negative connotations around the word ‘blogger.’
My experience has been a bit different, with my professors stressing the importance of the glorious things called Twitter, Wordpress, Mashable, Photoshop, Movie Maker, and the list continues. But is that all they reiterate, you ask? Of course not! It is about having that small idea in the back of your head that even when you have mastered the new digital media, it will always be about the basics. The basics of knowing how to write, report, ask good questions, translate the answers, and edit your work. No technology in the world will get you anywhere if you cannot do those things. Never have I felt more fortunate at Western Kentucky University for being blessed with that small idea in the back of my head.
I believe Alana makes wonderful points, yet sometimes there is a little bit more to it… If you are not receiving the education you want or need (yes, I chose the second word for us middle class families out there), go somewhere where you can receive the type of degree necessary to make it in this progressing world. Why waste your time complaining? Do something! Maybe the freedom that Alana talks about goes to a person’s head, being “your own publisher, editor, marketer, and brand.” And maybe, we should look at the classroom as a place to learn from others, their views and opinions, and not just walk through the doors with a long list titled, “what I already know and what you are not going to teach me.” And sometimes, just sometimes learning takes time, humility, patience, hearing, listening, curiosity, and that wonderful word that we forget in many aspects of our lives… faith.
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