Welcome to the Real World. For the first time in 16 years it’s September and I’m not in a classroom. Instead I’m at work, getting paid to write, just like I’ve been dreaming since I was nine years old.
Of course, at nine, I expected to be a famous author by 21, with a mansion and tons of money. Reporting was the next best thing.
With this thought in mind, I went into university right out of high school, first in Lethbridge, then the journalism program in Regina.
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Actually working in journalism was just an abstract idea at the end of the road.
Enter the Western Producer. Never had the “real world” looked scarier than it did when I heard I was up for the Producer internship. When I found out I got it, the fear turned to terror.
Not only was this my first real journalism job, but I had just landed a position at an agricultural newspaper, and I knew nothing about agriculture.
I was born and raised in Edmonton, and I’ve rarely been on a farm.
Colleen Hawkesford, the last intern at the Producer, told me I would do just fine if I knew the difference between a heifer and a Hereford. Surprisingly, I did.
So far that bit of information hasn’t come in handy yet, but I’m sure it will.
In spite of my fears, working for an ag paper isn’t as hard as I thought.
Reporting is reporting, and my co-workers and the people I’ve interviewed have been patient with my questions. I haven’t asked anything really dumb yet, so I must have picked something up.
The terror is wearing off, and I’m looking forward to the rest of my time here. I should walk out in December a better reporter, knowing a little about layout and design, a little about photography, and a lot about agriculture.
The classroom isn’t very appealing now. I’m starting to dread January.
