Four years ago, when making the life-changing decision of what career to pursue, journalism was a popular suggestion from my friends and family. Those who know me best saw me as the talkative, investigative person, who loved my time working with my high school publications.
My quick reply was always, “No. I don’t want to work for a newspaper. Books and magazines, that is where I want to work, who wants to work for a dingy newspaper, when you could work with shiny, flashy publications like magazines?”
Well, after just four months at TimesNewspapers, I realize how quickly the newspaper industry can suck you in.
I am not going to lie; I was frustrated in the beginning. I came into this office with no reporting experience, and all my previous knowledge of style, punctuation, and grammar was almost useless. As an English publishing student, I it took me awhile to realize I needed to pay my dues by research and writing. There were plenty of times in the first few weeks when I doubted my decision to apply here.
Did I not say I wanted to stay away from journalism?
My visions of jumping right into editing and layout were childish and unfounded for any publication — newspaper, book or magazines. Once I realized this, and now as my last days of my internship are over, I am sad to go. It turns out, I loved this internship.
There was the initial fear and mistakes when it came to interviews. I never had prior knowledge of proper interview etiquette or techniques, but the people in Morton, Washington and East Peoria, were welcoming and supportive. Phone calls and meetings became as easy as calling my mom or sitting with my friends.
And once I got over my fear of interviews, I only began to doubt myself when the story came back covered with red marks for me to fix. However, the confidence and the sense of pride that came when that story was published, especially when my piece is front-page worthy or picked up by an outside paper, made all the fears and doubts disappear.
In few instances, I was lucky enough to hear back from those who I had written about. In East Peoria, a storeowner thanked me for the new business, while another resident thanked me for a piece on a friend’s fundraiser. When a letter or e-mail of thanks was placed on my desk, or when I had a positive review from a reader or interviewee, I understood why people want to become journalists.