Job search < grad school < slow death

On my 55-minute commute home from my unpaid internship in Sarasota today (which I’m paying tuition for, despite graduating last month), I thought about how I should start blogging again.  Since I came home to a power outage, I suppose now is as good a time as ever to discuss my recent existential crisis as a recent college graduate with a mass comm degree from an unimpressive state school. A few minutes before starting this post I tweeted this overdramatic, if not morbid, question.

It’s a ridiculous thing to say, I know. But I’m only half joking.

Growing up and going to school in the Tampa Bay market means I’ve been completely spoiled with high quality, award-winning journalism. For most young journalists, these are the papers one aspires to write for. For me, it’s all I know.

Whereas many new grads move back to their hometowns to work at their small local newspapers before moving to a big, hip city to work at a big, hip newspaper, I’ll likely have to move away to get my first job. And not to some trendy up-and-coming town like my lovely St. Petersburg, but somewhere with pasture, farms and migrant workers. Somewhere with a one-street downtown and a city hall as big as my second-floor apartment. Somewhere people go line dancing on a Saturday night at the local watering hole and wake up for a Baptist church service in the morning. A great place to gain experience and world perspective, maybe. But not a great place to actually enjoy my life. Perhaps I’m exaggerating a tad. Cities like Brooksville have plenty to offer. But they can’t offer what I want.

I could suck it up and move to the county for a year or so. I could put in my time in a place I hate to hopefully move up to a place I love. Sure, I could do that. But I don’t think I’m going to. I graduated college in three years. I turned 21 two weeks ago. I’m educated, I’m talented, but most importantly, I’m young.

I don’t want to waste 21.

I want to be minutes away from my best friends and a half-hour from my family, who I still rely on all the time. I want the option to hear great live music any night of the week, or dip my toes in the gulf on any given day. That’s what I have here, and I’m not ready to give it up.

Not while I’m 21.

Maybe down the road, when I’m 23 or 24, and I’m sick of not having the job I went to school and worked so hard for. Maybe then I’ll decide to tough it out and move to Brooksville.

But not right now.

I’m not completely without options. Grad school for digital journalism and design is one of them, and at the moment it’s the most appealing … Though, the idea of starting classes in August makes my face hurt. But while I’m in school, I could get a graduate assistantship and build a decent rapport with local editors as a freelancer.

I could also get a job in another area of communications, such as PR or marketing, but that would probably require more internships first. And that’s not what I busted my ass in school to do.

But that idea begs another question: will a grad degree in digital journalism get me any further than I am now? Should I bother? Should I go back to school for something more practical, like marketing or (I cringe just thinking about it) … teaching?

If I want a job, the answer is yes. But if I want to write for a living — and I do — it’s no. So for now, I’m sticking with digital journalism.

I suppose I’ll still apply to those jobs in the Middle of Nowhere, Florida. Who knows? Maybe an offer letter will end up being more appealing to me than punk shows, art, craft beer and salt air.

Part of the reason I set out writing this post was to work through all these thoughts. Writing is the only way efficient way I can rationalize with my conscious – much more efficient than arguing with myself in the shower.

The power is back on now. I’m still sweaty, but I feel better. I’m going to go grab that parking ticket from my glove department and pay it so USFSP will release my transcripts and I can apply for grad school. Think this will suffice as my application essay?


Public records and press freedom? Don’t ask a college student about either.

Last night there was an incident at my school where a student let her drunk boyfriend into a residence hall after he pulled a knife on two male students outside. City and campus police searched the building and arrested the suspect on two counts of aggravated assault. My staff rushed to get a story online this morning and gave their best effort at getting every bit of necessary information.

The police disclosed the female student’s name, her boyfriend’s name and two of the witness’s names. We used all of them in the story, as they are now public record.

Within 11 minutes of the article being posted, I had a message in my inbox from the female student asking me to either take down the story or remove both her and her boyfriend’s names. Figuring she was going through enough today, I partially obliged and removed her name as a courtesy. It was a temporary move, however, as  I planned to later consult my adviser on the matter. As for her boyfriend, removing the name of the man who was arrested on campus for posing a safety threat to students was never an option.

A few minutes later, I received a Facebook message from one of the witnesses asking me to remove his name as well because he was receiving threats and we did not ask for his permission. I politely noted that we did not need his permission, but I agreed to remove his name. Though I doubt anyone was actually threatening him, citing him as merely a male witness rather than using his name would not detract from the story too much.

So, within an hour, I had ripped every name from this article except those of the man arrested, the police officer we spoke to and a few students who posted comments on Facebook while the event was happening (no complaints from them so far).

By the afternoon, we’d spoken with our adviser, who is an adjunct journalism professor and former managing editor of the then St. Petersburg Times, and decided we would put the female student’s name back in the story. A major local newspaper had already released it by this time, anyway. We decided to wait 24 hours.

This evening, we received two messages on our Facebook account asking us if it was necessary to use the female student’s name (though it was removed from the story, it still showed up in a preview on Facebook). When the student asked me to remove it this morning, I didn’t have a great answer. But now I do:

As a student-run publication, it is our responsibility to hold faculty, staff, community members and students accountable for their actions. This student brought a non-student into her dorm room. Not just any non-student, but a drunk one yielding a knife. Sure, this may not be an incriminating offense, but it’s irresponsible. It may have been inadvertent, but she endangered others with her actions. By printing her name, we’re holding her accountable. Maybe the next student who finds his or herself in a similar predicament will make a different decision — one that not only won’t get their name on the front page of their student newspaper, but won’t put anyone in danger.

I admit, I feel for the girl. I’m sure she has a million reasons as to why she made these decisions and I’m sure at least a few of them are valid. Still, we have a job to do as a student-run publication. And by publishing this student’s name, we’re doing it.

This issue comes after two other frustrating situations that demonstrate how little people know about the rights of the press. Last week, we were attacked for running an opinion column supporting creationism. According to at least one student, it was my job as editor-in-chief to tell the writer of this piece — who so bravely and boldly expressed a personal opinion knowing its unpopularity among college students — that her beliefs contained factual errors. He criticized of me of not abiding by AP Style. I’ll note, this student is not a journalism major. I politely explained to him that opinion pieces do not reflect the beliefs of an entire newspaper, just the writer and whoever else happens to agree. Even if this writer wanted me to publish an opinion piece on why the sky was green or 2 + 2 = 5, I would.

The discussion brought about by this scenario was great. That means we’re doing something right. But its scary to think people can flip to the opinion page, which is clearly labeled, and think they’re reading something that is supposed to be a news story.

The week before this incident occurred, the supreme court justice of our student government barged into my office to let me know we need to run it by him before we publish anything regarding the court. In this particular case, he was referring to a quote. I handled the situation as professionally as possible, essentially telling him that is simply not our responsibility. This student is an aspiring judge, yet doesn’t seem to understand First Amendment rights. Again, scary.

While the last few weeks have made the prospect of graduating all the more exciting (66 days!), I know I’ll have to face people like this for the rest of my life, especially in this profession. There’s always going to be someone who thinks I’m wrong no matter how right I am. I can handle it. I don’t pity myself, I only feel sorry for those who refuse to educate themselves. If anything, I guess that should serve as my incentive to keep writing.

Is brand journalism really the only way to succeed?

I have trouble believing it, but that’s what my professors and nearly all the speakers they’ve invited to our classes are telling us. Us journalism students must define and capitalize on our “personal brand” or we’re never going to make it in the biz.

Essentially, we’re being told to start a blog — a really, really popular niche blog — and dodge the whole newspaper reporter thing altogether. I imagine that’s easier said than done …

My senior seminar class, which is supposed to prepare us for a job with a professional publication, might as well be the entrepreneurial blogging course my school also offers. It makes sense for those who made it through four years in the program only to realize they aren’t cut out to be journalists, but what about those who are? What about those who have worked their asses off with internships and running the school newspaper — all while remaining at the top of the class — and have proved themselves worthy of this field?

Reporting for a newspaper and being at the forefront of print journalism innovation has been my dream for a while now. I’m not sure I’m ready to give it up just because the rest of the world doesn’t think it’s worth it. Should I give up and live off the cheap online ad sales from my blog while working part time at Starbucks to pay the real bills? It seems like that’s what I’m being encouraged to do.

Even Andy Barnes, former chief executive of the Times Publishing Company and chairman of the Poynter Institute noted the importance of brand journalism when speaking to one of my classes. A man who has a room named after him in the Poynter building told us self branding is the only way. It’s hard to deny someone like that.

Perhaps I’m in denial. Being told your desired profession is futile isn’t easy to hear after putting years of work and thousands of dollars into it. I’ve been ignoring the suggestions and warnings for the most part, choosing instead to keep believing in my fantasy land where I become a Pulitzer Prize winning education reporter for a mid-size Florida newspaper. The fantasy also includes me rolling in cash, not being overworked, having time for a family and being generally happy, which are all probably less realistic than the Pulitzer thing. Regardless, I’ve been holding on to the dream.

So, when at 4 a.m. last night, in the peek hours of my insomnia, I felt myself wanting to start a hyperlocal news blog, I surprised myself. The blog in mind would fill a niche no one else has really stepped foot in. It has potential to gain a following, and more importantly, collect revenue (though I’m not willing to delve into details here in case there are any other jaded journalism students reading this and needing an idea).

I’ve discovered a few things about myself in last year as editor of my school’s paper — I write pretty well, I possess strong leadership skills, I thrive off non-stop schedule, I have an entrepreneurial mindset and I quite enjoy being my own boss. Added up, these qualities could serve me well in my brand journalism blogging mission. But in order for me to actually go for it, it’ll have to become more important to me than being a newspaper reporter. Right now, I don’t think it is. But it could be, eventually (or, like, if I don’t get a job after graduation).

When speaking to my Florida media class the other day, Peter Schorsch, of, compared our current era to the 20 to 30 years after the invention of the printing press. Sub the printing press for the Internet, and we’re in a highly volatile and experimental age. In the grand scheme of time, we’re just figuring out how to digitalize the journalism world. And there are still masses of unexplored territory. In 20 years, journalism may look nothing like it does today. Newspapers may be delivered to us as holograms; who knows?

What I do know is, media is changing and I want to contribute to its development. So, maybe creating my own entrepreneurial hyperlocal blog wouldn’t be such a bad place to start. Maybe. Stay tuned, ya’ll.