I didn't earn a journalism degree to make the big bucks. My college professors let us news-editorial majors know we would often flirt with the poverty line. The curriculum put us through an additional ringer that taught us what a job in the real world entailed.
My new job will pay me nearly four times the amount I started making eight years ago, but that's only possible because my introduction to reporting featured a salary comparable to the fry cook trainee at McDonald's. It's never been about money for me. I took that first news job to learn the craft, and learn I did.
I'm a writer – for better or worse.
Ever since standing at the front of Miss Copenhaver's fourth-grade class and reading my creative writing projects aloud – gosh I was so embarrassed – I enjoyed the process. At least my 9-year-old classmates thought I had talent. Eventually, I got over embarrassment, yet I knew I was never meant to be a performer. I had my way with the written word. Digging for stories calls for meeting people, getting to know them and telling their stories. Journalism is blogging amplified, different because it's not about me, the same because it will be some of my words that help tell the story.
Newsgathering is pouring over information, sorting through trash, being called all sorts of names, being open to criticism for everything you put your name on. It's being cold, wet, bored, overly amused, sick, lonely, cramped, hot, sweaty, in a hurry, fumbling, confident, humble, worrisome and always aware of what time it is.
It's driving all over the place to find an address that isn't there. It's chasing fire trucks and ambulances with a morbid, mixed mindset: you hope you get there before the scene of tragedy is cleaned up, and yet you hope it's nothing but a minor fender bender and everyone is OK. You cringe at the awful sight of crimson soaking through the bright white sheet. You fight back your own emotions as tears stream from the red eyes of survivors around you.
It's also being recognized by school kids and members of the community, and knowing a few of them by name, taking photos of 100-pound watermelons and their proud growers, being greeted with smiles when you show up at an event important to the organizers. Getting cards and letters of thanks.
It's nearly falling asleep in a council, school board, hospital board, tax appraisal district or civil organization meeting. It's knowing that it's important to stay awake so that the citizens of the community – the ones who never attend such meetings – can know what affects them.
Every office setting has its cast of characters, but journalism can be a unique meeting of oddballs with creative minds, strange work and eating habits and a common goal in mind. Nobody says what the goal is, but we all know it's to put out a worthwhile newspaper (or broadcast, among other things). There's a team spirit in better newsrooms, big and small, that has been passed down through the hallowed halls of truth, justice and good grammar practices.
There have been a few reporters in recent years caught in the lies they passed as truth. I worked with one a few years ago. This is an unforgivable sin and one that gets you kicked out of the profession.
Journalism is all these things and so much more. And less. All I know is, careerwise, it is going to make me happy to step back into a role I've performed before and enjoyed. I'm not God's gift to journalism by any means. In a way, maybe journalism is God's gift to me and the others out there like me. It's frustrating. It's fun. It's cathartic. It sometimes makes a difference. It sometimes hits the trash unread.
Changing jobs won't solve all my problems. It won't magically make our debts disappear. It won't make me smell better. It's still going to be work. But I'm happy nonetheless.
Here's to hoping each of you can find a job that makes you at least occasionally happy. Some of you have found the Holy Grail of Employment and can probably second my notion. Life's too short to hate your job; slaving for 8 hours a day should have some sort of redeeming benefit other than a paycheck.
Have a great day, wherever it takes you.
Hey, that's awesome, T-bone!! You go go, you go go..
This is the beginning of the rest of your life! Woohoo!!
Hey man! That's so awesome, I wish I could say the same about my job! Congrats again dude!
-dew
Congrats T Bone! That's definately newsworty. So r u going to work for a newspaper? A Magazine? Or the News?
You're right about the characters in a newsroom. Some of my best times and best friends came out of a newsroom; I guess it makes up for the low pay, long hours, and short deadlines.
Hey - congratulations!
Will you be reporting? Editing? I guess anything is better than advertising (no offense). :)
You sound supremely happy. Good luck with the new position!
My bad - I should have read your previous post Senor Editor! :)
Hey, you already got the job...
Kidding!
Congrats! Wonderful news..so happy for you and your wife. There is nothing better than a spouse who is fulfilled by his work.
Hey T-Bone - congrats all over again! Shoot me a note with the name of the paper, if you like. Since I'm in the general area, I'd like to keep up with it.
That's great that you have a passion for your profession. I wouldn't have it any other way, small paycheck or not. Congrats!!
Congratulations on your lovely new job! :)
You go boi!!! Congratulations man. I hope you get to strut your stuff and show 'em what your made of.
Congrats to you! Yay! See, it all pays off. No matter what.
You have to go through the stuff that sucks, to get to the things that are cool. :)
Many hugs and love to you and the family, m'friend, good on ya. And a happy turkey day.
Congrats on the new job! Good luck.
Good post. Congrats on getting the new job. (If the paycheck is too big you can always send the xs my way!;-))
And, BTW, I assume the new position comes with a 'blogging at work allowable' clause!
Best of luck with your endeavors!!! I'm definitely convinced that there's no Holy Grail of Employment, but hope the new gig goes well!!!
Wow -- so glad to hear about the job... WooooHooooo! Damn -- do they know how lucky they were to get our T-bone?
Just keep the prime ribbings coming, kiddo...
:)
hey, stop trying to make it sound so good ;) I'll give you my own little version of journalism (from the features desk)
1. journalism is calling random people in the community to ask them about cookies/sweets/candles/running shorts, etc.
2. journalism is always having people accuse you of everything that is wrong with newspapers/the community/society and you just say "I just review the movies."
3. Journalism is not being able to say you review the movies anymore because some big wig gets his panties in a wad.
4. Journalism is getting intoxicated at a mexican restaurant and then pointing at the restaurant review on the wall and saying "Hey that guys my boss! Where's my free food?"
5. Journalism is standing on a street at 10pm on the first night of the war, looking for "ethnic people" but only finding a homeless guy to argue with.
6. Journalism is having 10-year-olds run away from you every time you pull out your tape recorder and eventually having to recall all conversations by memory.
7. journalism is having old ladies leave nasty messages on your voicemail at 6am on a saturday morning because they didn't get their paper.
i am so happy for this great change in your life. it's the job that was meant for you, the one that made you wait just so long before it popped up on the radar. it's such a blessing, and opportunity.
and you used a photo from one of the best movies of all time (gasp, and it isn't a kate movie!), "his girl friday".
you rock, t-bone. i'm really proud of you, if i may say so.
happy thanksgiving--this year i am grateful to have 'met' folks like you.