Showing posts with label journalism school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label journalism school. Show all posts

Monday, June 2, 2008

They Wouldn't Even Notice if I Left Early: Why I've Come to Doubt The Necessity of Internships


What is the purpose of an internship? This is a question I’ve found myself asking, more so, throughout the past semester. It has been my belief that an internship is an opportunity to gain critical insight to an industry in which you hope to one day be apart of. Seeing as the majority of available internships are unpaid, it was my assumption that an internship program is an interactive, hands-on learning experience that educates and prepares for upcoming career ventures.

During our time at Pace University, the Co-Op and Career Services department has expressed the importance of an internship, claiming it is important step towards becoming a young professional. But when all is said and done and you’ve been granted that foot in the door, the question needs to be raised: was it all worth it?

According to a recent op-ed in the New York Times, “Take This Internship and Shove It” by Anya Kemenetz, more than 84 percent of college students plan on doing an internship upon graduation. There are a plethora of available programs on numerous human resource and online job posting Web sites, which promise a “great start-up experience.” While I believe some internship programs do prove to be an asset to a student, personal experiences have left me disappointed in the state of big business internship programming.

Good friends of mine at the University have landed marketing, PR, editorial and photo internships at well-known companies and publications. A common argument I’ve heard when discussing their respective programs is their lack of responsibility and feeling of accomplishment upon completion of their program. When asked what is was they did at their job, I’ve been told on more than one occasion, “I do nothing.” When asked what they feel they got out of this experience, I’m answered with futile responses such as “resume space,” “the credits” or, even worse, “learning that I don’t want to work in this business anymore.”

During my time as a college student, I have had two internships. The summer following my sophomore year, I was a production intern on a well-known talk show. My tasks there were to answer phone calls, sort mail, log ideas for show topics which got passed along to the producers and run errands ranging from diet soda requests to Asian grilled chicken salad lunch orders. In spite of the small nature of my responsibilities, I look back at that time as a good moment. I built a strong rapport with an important staff member, who is now a close friend and in the process, he has taught me a lot about life, in and out of the office and is not just a reference for future potential employers.

This semester, I have had the opportunity to participate in an internship geared directly towards my area of academic focus and professional interest, working in the editorial department of a popular men’s interest magazine. There have been no lunch requests, I still sort the mail every day and have only had to run a few minor personal errands. As a graduating senior desperate to break into the editorial industry, my lack of progress during this internship has severely affected me. I have more or less acted as an office observer, watching the editors sit at their Macs as they work on a story. On a good day, I might get to transcribe an interview or two or conduct minor research.

I have learned that every experience is what you make of it and after coming to terms with the state of my experience at the magazine; I realized if I wanted to learn something, I had to take the first step. I’ve asked questions, I’ve watched and I’ve listened. In spite of the notes I’ve complied, it’s a far, disappointing cry from the expectations I had. Never did I think I would be the person who “did nothing” during a workday. I don’t feel as though I’ve been taught anything that I don’t already know, or am more or less prepared for the work world, than when I began my internship.

Kemenetz said it best in her Times article: “Though their duties range from the menial to quasi-professional, unpaid internships are not jobs, only simulations. And fake jobs are not the best preparation for real jobs.” My active role on The Press will be the reason why a potential employer believes I am qualified, not through the internship I am about to complete.

Companies, no matter what fields of interest, who provide students with internship opportunities, have a responsibility to actively prepare and engage those whom they employ. There should never be a day that felt as though was wasted and there should never be a day where there is “nothing for the interns to do.” And we do ask for these assignments, which apparently never exist.

We are essentially volunteers, who want nothing more than the “hands-on experience” that was promised to us. We make an effort to make the best impression we can, while juggling other jobs and our school commitments because we believe it should be worth it.

If a company is unwilling to take an interest in developing interns into potential staff members, aside from the “menial to quasi-professional” tasks they choose to pass down to us, then clearly our presence is unnecessary.


Michael, Contributing Writer
New York City

Writers: To Which Cult Do You Belong?


19 of us were chosen for a week-long college editors' conference at Columbia University in New York City the week of May 26. The workshop was made possible by the generous donations of Bloomberg L.P., an information-services, news and media giant.

We met in the freshman lounge on the first day, all of us prepping to head over to the J-School, where we'd inevitably end up in photos posing near the Columbia University J-School plaque. Our crew - we were excited, naive, and eager to pocket any business card we could get our jobless hands on.

We were student editors of our respective East coast, West Coast and Everywhere in Between newspapers -University of California, Berkeley, Bates College, University of Chicago and Pace University. In a room of college journalists, the obvious tempering of egos is what kept us all at the same level - which is why we started off with a Name your University's cliche icebreaker.

Pretty soon, we were all leveled off -- the "We're not all rich, white, preppy girls" and the "We're not all NYU rejects" and the seemingly futile, "we're not all angry lesbians." With egos subdued, we set off with pen and notepad in hand, fervently scribbling down advice by industry giants, like The New York Times and Bloomberg L.C.

No matter where we came from (one of us a student editor at Virginia Military Institute whose cliche was, not surprisingly, "we don't all hate women") we were linked by the same exhausting desire: how to fit into the ever-changing media and where to get a paycheck. But some of us didn't want to sell our souls in order to get there. Some of us wanted to find something that would make us happy. Something that would fulfill our salary expectation without forcing us to work 13 hour days.

Some of us wanted to see sunlight. Others didn't care.

The Others, in this case, were those who gawked at the polished Bloomberg Tower (fully stocked with Beyonce in the penthouse up top) located at East 58th Street and Lexington Ave. Gawked at the chandeliers that blinked in Morse code sentences about languages. Foamed at the mouth over the free employee food bars strewn throughout the building. Found the random floor tanks of fish (representing fortune) to be just what they needed to have a "serene experience" at the work place.

The tour guide even got the Others when he barked on and on about how Bloomberg is a physical representation of transparency. Read this to get a thorough understanding of a real-life Xanadu. Every conference room and newsroom was see-through, the radio and TV stations were see through and the people, oddly enough, seemed see-through too. They had wide, white smiles and expensive suits. These were beacons of light to our Others. These were the bobble-heads that repeated, "Bloomberg strives to be completely transparent. We have nothing to hide."


In my little notepad, I scribbled down the number of times our insincere, model-boy tourguide said things like, "we have nothing to hide." This number was 6. In a 15 minute tour. It would be presumptuous to think Bloomberg was maliciously hiding something, but it would be naive to think the company is completely innocuous. Generally, overcompensating for having something to hide often comes in the form of making sure others think you have nothing to hide. It's a newsroom. It's got a high-tech fingerprinting chip that enables employees to access data from across the globe.

And while Bloomberg claim's they strive to get the news fastest and first, it's with a whole lot of pretty on the side. Journalistic integrity can be sought without the sugery toppings. For instance, The New York Times building -- is as the joke goes (black, white and read all over) -- it's understated and clean. They produce the news without having glitz and gloss.

The Bureau Chief of Bloomberg News told us her dress had a leather belt. She said she saw her husband one hour a day and that her marriage would last because of this. She said she worked from 6AM to 6PM. This was Bloomberg.

Some of us called it a cult. The Others were fascinated.

We eventually trickled on down to DUMBO, where we visited with Jewcy Media - a small start-up that is thriving because it's niche - Jewish counter-culture viewpoints. The owner, Talh Raz, told us the Internet was where it's at. That drive meant everything. A degree meant nothing. The ability to be an industry chameleon would benefit us. That major media was being sideswiped by smaller media companies with big dreams. A degree in journalism was meaningless unless your writing was creative and necessary and useful.

Some of us fell in love with the idea of finding a niche market, and writing for it. Can't find a job? Create one, we thought. The Others wanted to bleach their teeth and get Ivy league graduate degrees and work for mainstream media conglomerates.

Journalism is an industry that welcomes people from different backgrounds, with different colored pens-- the steadfast, alternative-weekly reporters, the culture writers, the prestigious, national newspaper editors, the photojournalists, the news magazine finance writers, the online political writers and the celebrity bloggers.

If the job field is a microcosm of the world, than You, Me and The Others live in a nation that really is free.

-Lisa Marie, Five Wire Editor
New York City

Saturday, May 31, 2008

The One Man Band

The media industry is shrinking fast into a corps of journalists who can do everything—writing, photography, video and more.

As budding journalists, we hear more and more about the importance of being able to produce and edit our own online content. But how do people our age learn all these skills by ourselves? In the early 1990s, graduate schools started offering new media components to their curriculum. Today new media has morphed into digital media. The curriculum has a hard time keeping up with the ever-changing platform of electronic media. So how do journalists do it?

Journalists must educate themselves quickly about new topics every day. Current journalists do not have the luxury to go back to school every time a new piece of equipment comes out. They must learn in the field.

How do you make the case for J-school when you are required as a journalist to learn quickly on the job every day?

— Anna, Five Wire Editor
Washington, DC