May 1, 2016. I was seventeen years old & at the finish line of my high school career, trying to master the balancing act of cramming for final exams, finding the perfect prom dress and the perfect white A-line wedding dress I was required to wear for graduation.
With a million and one different deadlines approaching, I hastily enrolled at Belmont University on my mom’s iPad, eager to finally put the endless college search behind me. From the drop-down menu on the confirmation page, I chose my major from an array of options: journalism.
As the clock ticked down to move-in day, I was bombarded with questions from peers, adults, and educators asking why I chose to study an industry that’s “dying.” Between the polarized political climate and the era of “fake news,” voices from all sectors of my life advised me to steer clear of journalism and pursue a path in a similar field.
Despite the naysayers, I stuck with journalism, and showed up to my classes bright eyed and bushy tailed on the first day. Journalism fit me, I thought. I had completed a journalism camp at a local university, owned a professional camera, and excelled at writing. I was under the impression that I was one of the lucky ones who didn’t have to bounce around from program to program to find the right career path.
First semester came and went like a flash from a vintage camera. But once second semester rolled around, the uncertainty surrounding my chosen discipline began to set in.
Journalism was grueling. We dove in head first with concepts we had only dipped our toes in the previous semester. I learned quickly that journalistic writing is a completely different animal than “normal” writing. You must master AP Style, the art of pitching, terms like “nutgraf” and “boilerplate,” how to reach out to appropriate sources, and, obviously, how to conduct interviews with people you’ve never met on top of having no prior experiences to reference them back to if they question your credentials.
It was a baptism by fire.
My fellow classmates and I all endured the writing struggle together. Some of them dropped like flies, fleeing from the journalism major like it was the plague.
While it varied from person to person, my journalism funk lasted about a year. When I returned to school in the fall for sophomore year, I signed up for another journalism writing class as an elective that I thought I would thoroughly enjoy. I came out of it equally as stressed out as I was from the previous semester’s required writing class.
At this point, I was dead set on switching programs or schools. Journalism had proven to be too much. But something innate kept me from switching and urged me to stick it out.
That little voice inside my head encouraging me to persevere through journalism turned out to be right.
Second semester of sophomore year, things began to look up. I enrolled in required classes pertaining to my major about media ethics and law, which I found intriguing and enjoyable. Even writing itself started to click again, so much so that I declared a double major in journalism and public relations by the end of the semester.
Luckily, the journalism skills I fostered the two previous years carried over seamlessly in my second major. Plus, the flexibility within my schedule due to my aptness to chip away at my journalism classes during my first two years allowed me the space to squeeze in a second major while still graduating a semester ahead.
I didn’t convert from journalism to something else. I built off the knowledge I gained in journalism and used it as a springboard into a similar field. I realized that my journalism curriculum provided me with an indispensable skill set I could apply to any other discipline.
So no, I didn’t end up quitting journalism. I finished it out, and even got another degree until my belt in the process.
Journalism demanded excellence, not mediocrity, in several areas. Writing was just one facet of it. Multimedia production, law, and ethics are three other major areas I was required to be well versed in before entering the workforce in the journalism sphere. And this demand for excellence instilled a strong work ethic in me that I’ve now implemented into my personal and work lives.
And of course, writing. Writing, the thing I went from loving, to loathing, to loving again. The thing journalism is built around. Writing is now my strongest skill set, and I freelance write for various places now. Who wouldn’t love a side hustle that boosts your resumé in the process?
While I might not go forward into a career that’s solely journalism, the skills I learned in the discipline are invaluable and have skyrocketed me in areas where I previously plateaued. I look back at my writing from high school and I see immense growth compared to where I am now.
Study journalism. Study words. Study sentences. Writing is an irreplaceable skill you should foster while you are in school under the guidance of your professors.
And, of course, if you have any questions you’d like to ask me personally, please contact me on the form above. I’d be delighted to help you in any way I can.
-M
