Tag Archives: UF

Summer for a student journalist: Struggle Edition.

With four days left in the semester, there is one thing on everyone’s mind: summer.

But for that segment of the student population that call themselves journalism majors, something else gets in the way of summer-time thoughts: internships.

As a journalism student, the biggest asset to a resume, besides a degree, is internship experience. For those that aren’t aware, the internship battle field — and yes, I call it a battle field — is highly competitive. By competitive I mean thousands of journalism students with more than enough clips, reputable internships, stellar GPAs and a list of extracurricular activities are applying for the same two positions within the same one organization. This happens over and over and over again, until all the spots are filled.

In total, I’ve applied for 22 internships across the country. I started applying in December, which is surprisingly later than most deadlines (the deadline for a summer internship with the New York Times is Oct. 31). Here’s a partial list of what the organizations I applied to:

Trust me, the list goes on. After realizing that my chances of getting a paid internship were slim to none, I started applying for unpaid positions. These, however, are limited to where I already live. Without a paycheck, I can’t afford to pay rent in a city like New York. Fortunately for me, my home is now in San Francisco, so that’s not an awful Plan B.

I’ve applied to six internships in SF ranging from social media to editorial positions. I began following up on my applications this week (something we all should do more often), and I was simply told to wait.

That’s what it’s been like: a waiting game. I check my email about three times every ten minutes. My most recent searches involve the word “internship” in some way or another.

I’m a firm believer that if you try hard enough, you’ll achieve your dreams. Yes — It’s sappy, corny and cliché, but it keeps me going. I decided to change my major to journalism four semesters ago. Since then, I’ve secured three internships.  I wasn’t chosen for those positions by chance. I’ve been putting my heart and soul (excuse the sappy clichés again, sorry) into this major since I chose it. 

“Keep trying. Keep at it. Don’t give up.”

That’s the general consensus between editors and professors alike. So, to other student journalists that share this boat with me, I leave you with one piece of advice:

Let’s listen to them.


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What happens in New Orleans…

Bourbon Street

…gets written on my blog.

Later in October 2013 –

One mini van. Seven people.

The notorious LSU vs. UF football game, also known as the best excuse to take a road trip, had finally arrived — and we were riding in style.

We came, we saw, and we did not conquer. We lost by 11 points. But we did won a lot of beads. (The decent way.)

For those of you who may not have taken a trip down to “NOLA” yet, let me tell you something about Bourbon Street: it’s like stepping into another world. One run by street performers, devoid of rules or societal constraints, decorated year-long, a 24-7 stretch of bars, clubs, liquor stands, po-boy shacks, oyster bars, more bars, more clubs, more liquor stands. Basically, it’s a college student’s Disney land.


Chargrilled oysters!

You definitely come across some strange things in that city. It’s as if there’s something in the air — it tells Bourbon Street-ers “Leave the norm behind, there’s no place for it here.” The act of judging, or the feeling of being judged, does not appear to  exist.

The lack of open container laws allows you to get a drink on-the-go. There’s an 85 percent chance you’ll either have a yard-long frozen drink or a green Grenade occupying one (if not both) of your hands. Add a pink fishbowl drink hanging from your neck and you’re all NOLA-ed out. Everyone is happy. Everyone is smiling. That is, until the next morning.

But that’s what Bloody Maries are for.OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Beyond the obvious party scene, I found this city has so much more to offer. The culture, for one, is unique to its confinements. It’s so distinct, that once you step on its streets, you instantly feel that you’re far, far away from where ever you just came from. At least that’s how I felt. The streets surrounding the obvious attraction, Bourbon Street, are speckled with seafood restaurants, vintage and antique stores, and decorated homes.

An actual city, with buildings, street lights and cabs, lies at the end of Bourbon. This did it for me. The city is beautiful. The culture is enticing. The streets are weird. The people are authentic.

And if you walk the right way, you’ll find the Mississippi.


Places I checked out:

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