In my Sophomore year of college, I took a leap into completely shifting my major from English Education to just plain English. In my over-achieving way, I substituted the void in my major with four minors, two of which I would later revoke out of lack of time, money, and overall interest. Of these four, and of the two that were removed, was Journalism. I decided that my best option for honing any skills in this field was to sign up to be a staff writer for our the school’s newspaper.
I found writing an article extremely exciting and I couldn’t wait to see the new ideas and opportunities that my editor requested for the next issue. Eventually, I began to stray from her examples and created my own topics which interested me. I thought I was savvy by finding the hottest news, even if it meant just asking professor’s opinions on note taking.
I guess where I started to fall from the idea of journalism came around the time I wrote a profile on one of the school’s deans. To me, I felt like this was an excellent opportunity to clear up any worries or concerns and provide the students from the department to feel okay with the change. I didn’t intend to be accusatory in any means.
When the article went out, I did my normal routine of cutting it out of the edition and clipping it to my other articles. I noticed a few discrepancies in what I had originally email versus what was published, but to me they were only minor. I thought it was a nice farewell to the dean’s term.
Then I received a cryptic, though appreciative email from the dean of the department that the other person was moving to. It was simply a “Great article, Skylar.” I thought this was a little odd, I never thought it to be passive aggressive until I received another email from the first dean’s secretary requesting a meeting with me and the senior editor of the newspaper. Initially, I racked my brain thinking endless possibilities of why myself and a highly regarded honors student would have a personalized meeting before the dean left. I was more ecstatic than questioning.
During the meeting, I went in with high hopes of some secret award or opportunity but was greeted with an embarrassed and disappointed dean. We were given a stern talking to, the one where you feel like your insides are coming out through your mouth, ears, eyes, or any opening to let it go free.
I was devastated, scared, and weary.
Following that episode, I felt hesitant to write any more articles, I fretted about not offending anyone and felt like anything I wrote was going to be read with an eagle eye for errors. My interest in journalism fell when I realized that I couldn’t take the consequences of having something controversial free to the public forever. Something that the deans can look back on and have physical proof of its existence while they shake their heads.
I dealt with the aftermath by taking a break from writing articles. I was at a loss for words and often found that I had writer’s block. Luckily, I was given the chance to redeem myself when my friend Sarah (our co-correspondent) talked me into joining HerCampus. She explained that I could write whatever I wanted, even if it is something as eclectic as book reviews or as common as dealing with life. I found a new outlet, a place where there isn’t a need to be in trouble because I am not under the constraints of time, or academics, or scholarly relatability. I’m writing for a community that cares for what I write.