Rebecca Baker

Realisations of a Journalism Student

06 Apr 2010 1 Comment

by Rebecca in Entertainment Arts, Travel, University Matters

It’s my first day. I’m nervous, but calm.

I park in the ‘editorial’ section, thinking to myself, i seriously hope i didn’t just take someone’s spot. The wall above my bonnet seems to be unlabeled, unlike the others, so i carry on, walking into the building and asking the receptionist to tell the editor that I’ve arrived. I was escorted in by, funnily enough a former student of my high school who’s now a photographer at the paper. They say your only twice removed from someone you know in Wagga, so I guess its not that surprising really.  My nerves settle a little. I meet the editor and some of the journalists and photographers, then sit down at my desk and twiddle my thumbs before realizing I’m meant to be reading today’s paper before some sort of meeting.

Realisation #1, university doesn’t prepare you for anything. You can know how to write, this doesn’t mean you will know what to expect.

As I sit there feeling a bit out of place and forcing myself to ‘think professional’ the editor comes storming into the room and hurls a piece of paper at a young photographer by my side.
“What’s this s&*t!?!” he says thrusting the paper towards the block of desks where we we’re both sitting.
“What?” the photographer replies looking puzzled at the photo now in his hand.
“What the hell is this?” the editor says pointing at the caption, “…. It’s ‘quirm’ is it then? How do you spell his name?
“That’s the spelling he gave me, that’s what he said,” the photographer defends himself.

“His names QUINN!!” He mumbles to himself….”bloody ‘quirm’” Then turns again and says…”it’s QUINN!!!!”
“Oh…opps”, the mistake is realised.
“Yeah well just get it right ok!” he yells as he leaves.

It’s my first day. I’m nervous….and no longer calm.

Realisations #2 firstly, don’t piss of the editor. Secondly, photographers are, undeservedly, at the bottom of the food chain.

I’m in the meeting with the journalists, photographers and the editors who are painfully disinterested in my presence, and it shows. I don’t want a big hug and a teddy, but a simple hello would suffice. The only one who seems interested in my being there is the group editor, who seems to like me. The photographers seem to be glad of someone who is genuinely appreciative of their work, or it could be my heels and tight pants. Whatever the reason, I’m glad I’m not alone.

Realisation #3 Every office is different, but a work experience person seems to be an inconvenience at first no matter how hard you try or how much you want to learn.

Throughout the meeting I’m handed clips of paper and delegated stories and media releases with events to attend. I’m freaking out. Asking myself if I’ve got what it takes.  The editor has faith in me…but based on what? A cover letter and a phone call? I pause in the moment, wondering if this is the path which will lead me to the point where I’ll have to ask distraught mother to ‘cry again for me’ into the camera because the batteries were low on the mic and we didn’t get the sound, all for the sake of ratings. Or will I have to burn someone’s business (hypothetically speaking) because of some silly rumour which had become ‘evident’ just to ‘up’ paper circulations?
I take the stories and do my best, skipping lunch just to make sure.

Realisation #4 writing is enjoyable, it really is. Writing what you don’t want to write, well….isn’t. (Obvious I know)

Day one is down. I return to work early the next day anxious to know if my writing was good enough to make it to the press.  I open the paper, and there on page 3 with a delicious bi-line a colour picture and all 300 words of my story slaps me in the face. I start celebrating in my head, I yell ‘YOU BLOODY BEAUTY’ and start break dancing, safely in my head. Ok, so it’s a local paper, so it’s only 300 words, but this little victory meant that not only was it good enough, but I’M good enough, AND university did teach me something which means my HECS debt has been put to good use, there is hope for me yet!
Over the next week, and to my amazement I was able to get almost 20 pieces of work published.
I did a lot of dancing in my head that week.

Realisation #5 be grateful… writing something is better than writing nothing at all.

The next day, the meeting was full of profanity, racist comments, political incorrectness and cancer jokes. These are nice people, but just….well journalists. They think differently, but in the end they’re just people. I don’t really want to be like them, but it’s the career I’ve chosen, I’m in my final year of uni so what do I do? Well, after reading the articles they’ve joked about I guess they get it all out of their system so when they write something which will be published it’s nice and clean and relatively neutral, this is generally the result anyway.

Realisation #6 if you have strong ethical values, learn to look at journalism as the ‘business of information sharing’.

So does it even matter what journalists write? I think just as long as it’s useful to someone somewhere, it’s worth it. Is this useful to you, or simply enjoyable? Is that why you’re reading on? By now I assume that this far down the article you’re either interested, waiting for the dentist or my mum. All in all, you will have to write about things you don’t want to write about to get where you want to go.

Realisation #7 learn to love writing the B grade stories till you can make the A grades.

Although I enjoyed my weeks work experience I’ve realised my passion does not lie in local news, and that’s ok. Which is good, I achieved what I set out to do, that is, find out what I like. I’ve discovered making something out of nothing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, I don’t want to write about Mrs Miggins cat stuck up a tree which is promptly turned into a police investigation because of the local paper’s embellishments. I want truth; I want science, history and knowledge…certainly not fibs and rumors. Most of all, I want adventure, I want to be challenged. But not the, ‘go and do a vox pop and talk to delusional people who want to tell you their life story in the hope that it will get on the front page’ kind of challenge. I want real adventure. I want rough, below zero, one hundred miles an hour, dirty, scary, real life journalism.

Lucky for me I’m now one of Australian Geographic’s interns for June/July.
In saying all this I do realise that they won’t send me to the Antarctic on my first day, but I will certainly be glad to be part of something a bit bigger and better than the local newspapers and my wordpress site (no offense Mr WordPress-you are truly wonderful for insomniacs!)

Realisation #8 Make the coffee’s till you can write about where the beans come from. (Or maybe even go there one day)