Posts Tagged work
The Highs and Lows of a Journalism Intern
Posted by Emily in Journalism 101, Spilled Thoughts on August 6, 2010
They, you know the famous “they” tell you to never assume things. This “assuming” thing makes you look bad and maybe me too. Isn’t that how the saying goes? Well this girl assumed her summer internship would be a breeze.
Maybe they’d let me write a couple stories after a few weeks had passed. Maybe I’d have to take a few pictures. Maybe I’ll be my editor’s sidekick during the experience. All assumptions of course. All wrong. Within the first hour of arriving for my first day of work, I was sent head first into a story by myself. This rapid motion, even for a weekly, never seemed to cease.
And I loved it.
The best part of my internship was the everyday challenge. Each day I’d come into the office and I’d have instructions waiting on my desk. The job never got monotonous or boring. Each day, it was a surprise, who I would be meeting next or who would be my next interviewee victim.
With such excitement everyday, I cannot remember a day I sincerely dreaded a workday. But I did dread the 40-minute commute to work and 40 minute drive home. The drive was easily the worst part of my internship this summer. After wearing out every CD I owe, pumping too much gas and still yet to find a morning radio show I like, I am excited to go back to walking five minutes to class and work every day.
Being from the county just next door, I never realized how much I didn’t know about my neighbor. I learned the vast differences and everything that I had been missing out on from the amazing people to the amazing family owned restaurants. I learned how to talk to all different types of people in all different types of scenarios. I learned how to design pages using InDesign and how a weekly functions. The most important thing I learned is maintaining relationships with your sources. If you say you’ll send them a picture, send them a picture. If you say you’ll follow up, follow up with them. So many times those sources are at other events or helping me find my next story.
Those same sources are the ones sending me thank you cards and e-mails I after stories I’ve written. For years I had been told that journalism is a “thank-less” career, but in Union County, I was spoiled enough to be put on a pedestal for the job that I do. The kindness of the people of the county and the city of Morganfield is something I’ll remember fondly.
I discovered this kindness in a hard way one scorching hot day in June. I was sent to Uniontown’s Magistrate, Jerri Floyd, to do a story on an ordinance the city was considering passing. I talked to Jerri for only a few minutes when he told me he had some residents that would be good for me to talk to. I followed him in my car while he drove to the neighbor’s house. When we arrived to talk to the sources, I left my keys in the ignition and locked my car. I locked my car WITH my keys inside.
The realization hit me right as I was shaking hands with the former mayor and his wife. I finished the interview in one piece, but as soon as I was out the door, I told the man I arrived with, “Yeah… my keys are in there and my doors are locked.” It cost me embarrassment, 40 dollars and a sunburn. But good ol’ Jerri knew exactly who to call and made the key retrieval a painless process. At every city council meeting since Jerri is sure to slip in my stupidity into conversation.
Through all the frustrations and smiles after being thrown head first, sink or swim, into my hopeful future career, I have loved every second. I am extremely thankful for the internship opportunity and looking forward to my next adventure in this strange newspaper world in which we live.
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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.
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.
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