Heterogeneous Demographics

I learned all about heterogeneous demographics today. 

Apparently, heterogeneous demographics are differences in communities, on some aspect. The one thing I love about press releases is learning the subjects of each release. Every subject I am assigned is like it's own little lesson in one way or another. 

Sick, Stressed, and a God-Awful Mess

Never let yourself believe that you have everything together in a pretty package, all tied together with a nice big bow. Ever. Because you probably don't. You're fooling yourself. Whoever told you with their disillusioned smile, "Everything will be okay" was wrong, and you should probably stop going to them with all of your problems. Because they are wrong, and you are still a mess.

So what if you finished your essay? You had to pull an all-nighter to do it, leaving you exhausted. So what if you made it to your class on time? You have a fever and feel sick, and should probably be in bed. No matter the choice you make, you should have taken the other available option. Sick? Stay in bed. Staying in bed because you're sick? Should have gone to class.

When you try, and push yourself harder, and grasp at what is left of your sanity, people tell you to cut back. Balance can't happen in college. Everyone has something for you to do, and if you say no, well you're screwed and somebody else takes your place.

You can try to sit back and enjoy the ride, but good luck having twelve different things to put on your resume. You can drop the work or classes that make you feel worn thin enough to shatter into a million little shards of overworked college student, but good luck looking good for your professors.

Really, though, all you can do is all you can do. You do your work, you fall behind, you think you get caught up, you miss a class, you fail a quiz, you keep plugging on. Sometimes, the initial discomfort of dropping something you thought you could handle is better than the long term discomfort of allowing yourself to stay in a position you truly cannot handle. 

This Week in Interning

Those McNair press releases haunt my dreams now. Thanks for that, Liz! Having no real idea what a press release about a project covering gentrification should look like, I dove in. And failed. Not really 'failed,' but I could have done better. Of course, no draft is ever the final draft, so, after getting verbal feedback from The Boss to direct the flow of the press release, I dove in again.

This time, I emailed one of the scholars being covered and asked for more information regarding their project. I then re-structured each release in a more symbiotic, balanced pattern.

As always, there are most likely edits to be made on the second drafting, but I'll jump into those once I get the drafts back.

For now, I blog and think of the best way to bring a little more creativity and light into my little corner office. 

How Do You Know

The first time I thought about what I wanted to be when I grew up, I said, without a doubt, "Teacher." This answer seems so obvious. How many kids say, without a doubt in their minds, that they want to follow in the footsteps of those who have taught them everything from how to spell to how many days there are in a week.

The next time I really thought about what my life would consist of after graduating college, I was in middle school. Eighth grade. I took a test, and they told me I should be a psychologist. And so, through high school and the first year of college, I spent my time thinking that I would be a psychologist, and then a teacher again, and then back to being a psychologist.

I never gave thought to what else was out there, and finally, I declared myself an English major. Why not follow my love of literature and writing? Why struggle to enjoy schoolwork that brought me little joy? If anything, I wanted to be happy.

Believe me when I say that being an English major brought me joy beyond compare. I finally engaged in class discussions. I found my writing niche in creative non-fiction. I met like-minded people that challenged me to learn. I love being an English major. However, I graduate in about four months, and I still have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.

The question rolls around in my brain every day. "What are you doing after you graduate?"

I have no idea.

I thought that maybe I would get some sort of office job somewhere, but, after going through two internships and a summer job that all took place in quiet, blank walled offices, I think I would be unhappy at a desk all day.

I still know that I will never be a teacher. The hours, the stress, I doubt I could find incredible amounts of joy in a job where I am always stressed--I failed to mention that I worked as a student teacher in both a middle and high school, and felt stress upon stress!

And so here I am. Working as an intern with my college's News and Media Department. I scan papers, I clip news articles, I put events on a calendar. I write press release after press release. And I feel empty. I need that light, that fulfillment.

I want to find joy in what I do. I hope that "paying my dues" as an intern will help me find my path. I hope that my writing might get noticed, I hope that I might discover a career that I truly love.

All I know for sure is that I will continue to search, and strive, and work, and hope. Who knows where I might end up! 

Event Making

My fellow intern and I made events on townplanner.com today.

This is the only update I have. 

Open Thoughts on Being an Intern

The crumpled remains of last years intern. 

I am diseased. Every time I am given an opportunity, I clutch at it like it will solve all of my worries and future problems. But I am diseased to think this, and I am diseased with the thought that I have to say 'yes' constantly plaguing me.

When I accepted an internship with the Frostburg State University News and Media Department, I believed that I would be working on projects--small or large it mattered not--that would make some form of happy change in my life, and informative change in others' lives. 

I, sadly, felt mislead. I let myself feel, and think, that I would somehow be an important part of the News and Media Department, but instead I found myself floundering for intelligent work. Instead, I became "just an intern." 

Those three words, "just an intern," have been said to me time and time again by more than one person in and out of the office I reside in. The back corner office, the office no one wants. The office cluttered with books no one uses, with broken shelving systems and a box full of extra ceiling tile. 

A box of extra ceiling tile and dusty cabinets.

There is a stigma associated with the word "intern." Because you have been hired for an internship--a learning opportunity--with an organization, it seems that you are allowed to be treated as a worthless, replaceable part of that organization. Clearly, you, the intern, do not need money. You do not need to be treated as an equal, because you will never be an equal. You are replaceable, you are not the smartest, most hardworking, most creative. Everything you do can be done better. 

"You're just an intern, so you get stuck with all the crappy jobs."

It seems that businesses believe the relationship between interns and the business to be parasitic rather than symbiotic. Were businesses to view their interns as a need--which they are. Without interns, there lacks a direct line to the future of the company. Some interns come and go, but some have the potential for future hire. An organization would be smart to treat their interns as peers rather than door mats.

People assume that I should be grateful, and I am, but to what extent does being grateful turn into being a fool? Not just any sort of college aged fool, but a fool with her head stuck in the clouds, hoping that her press releases will get noticed by some mighty force, and she will get hired and swept into an exciting world filled with exciting work.

My desk. One of the computers does not work. 

The really sad thing is that I have a really nice, guidance-providing, caring boss. She checks in to see if I have questions, she taught me that in AP Style, press release, journalistic writing, there is no home for the Oxford Comma. I like my boss, I feel useless and unfulfilled as an intern. 

I want to love what work I do. I think that every working person searches for fulfillment. When told that I get "crappy" jobs because I am an intern, I feel like I am unneeded. People strive to feel needed. I am a person, not "just an intern."

I write this openly, with the hope that no one takes vast offense. I have worked two internships and one summer job at a company that, for the sake of their feelings, treated me just like I am often treated as an intern: with disdain when I asked for more work, with irritation when I asked a question, and with the seeming idea in their minds that I am useless because I am replaceable.

Happily, my new boss likes when I ask for more work. She gives actual feedback regarding my press releases, and the work I complete for her. From the open communication, I have gained a sense of fulfillment that I am learning new skills and helping a department so important to Frostburg State University.

After openly communicating with my boss, I gained permission to decorate the office if I wanted, to ask for more work when I needed, and to speak my mind. I am happier.

I think that, and this is something I should have realized in past interning positions, I let myself get swept up in the "just an intern" stigma. Fellow interns, if any of you read this blog, don't be "just an intern." Be more. Be amazing. Be the intern, the worker, you know you can and should be. 

Banging My Head Against the Desk

Ed Sheeran is singing. His words are beautiful; his sentences flow together in thoughtfully constructed syntax. I would like to take his words and make them mine, only tailored towards the press release I am attempting to write, and not towards musical genius.

I thought the assigned press releases would get easier. I was wrong. The release I am attempting to work on right now is far more difficult to word than the first I completed. I have to balance information, a celebration of intelligence, and the typical press release form all in one document.

Not to mention trying to remember not to use the oxford comma... 

Excelling at Excel

You know it's going to be a good day when three hours of your life are dedicated to tallying up numbers and putting them into a custom formatted Excel document.

While Excel is oftentimes a confusing, frustrating tool to use, it is useful. Rather than put countless numbers in a calculator, and take more than an appropriate amount of time to tally everything up, a simple formula placed in the correct box makes counting, tallying, and adding much easier.

Excel is, I think, one of the most important tools a college student should know how to use. Not only can students use spreadsheets to their own personal advantage by making up schedules and budgets, but in all of the work experience I have had at this point, every company can find at least one use for Excel, and they can typically find good use for anyone who is a master spreadsheet maker. 

Rainy Days Must Mean Mundane Work

Again, I stress that 'mundane' does not necessarily mean 'unimportant.' I think that the most mundane tasks often are the most important.

Today, the provided work matched the weather. I sorted through thousands of "I'd like to receive more information on Frostburg State University" cards, dividing them into categories based on year and where the prospective student heard about FSU.

I mentioned in an earlier post the importance of knowing where marketing needs to be improved. I love my school, and I'm happy to complete even the most mundane tasks to ensure our expansion. 

Rainy Days, Hazy Brain

The Weather. 

Rain pours down slowly--pours and slowly; is that an oxymoron?--and the air is full of a hazy, misty dampness. This poses a challenging question: what the hell do I wear to work?

The Look. 

No makeup. Not today. I will walk forth barefaced, letting that rainy weather know that it cannot frighten me away from a clean and fresh faced day. My shins and feet will remain dry in light grey rain boots with white polka dots. Fear not! I have a tip: Pack in a bag a pair of light flats to stick on later. The rain will not soak through shoes, and with the addition of flats at the office, no outfit will look unprofessional.
When I stood at my closet, staring down rack after rack of clothes, I wondered, what do I wear out in this maelstrom of mist? After a good ten-minute deliberation, it hit me. The sweater dress. A staple in any working woman's closet--at least, what I think should be a staple in any working woman's closet--the sweater dress comes in a variety of shapes and colors. Mine is a soft charcoal grey, form fitting, to the knee quarter length sleeved dress in a light wool material. It can be dressed up or down and the basic color means I can pair it with anything.
My hair posed an even more difficult challenge. Wear it up, and risk the chance that the windy rainy weather will tear it down, wear it down, and the windy rainy weather will absolutely make me look like a madwoman. And so, the alternative. A half-up-half-down look. With hairspray. So much hairspray. I left with a contact high after doing my hair, I'm pretty sure.

"The rain will never stop a good office look." -Abby O'Neill, Professional Wattpad author, Polyvore clothing and room designer, and fangirl. 

Apart from the outfit and shoes, the hair and make-up, I find that breakfast can make or break a rainy day look.

I ate waffles, an apple, and had a steaming mug of gloriously filtered 'Arabican' (whatever that means) coffee. I cannot recollect what the waffles tasted like, but halfway through my cup of glorious, glorious coffee, I began to notice how wonderful it tasted. A good breakfast on a hazy day is a great perk-upper. It's good to be wide awake and peppy as an intern.

While the rain might seem like an outfit and hair-do ruiner, following some easy and quick tips and tricks will make the office day go smoothly. 

The Boring and Mundane

I can always tell when Liz wants to assign me to a mundane, thinkless, boring task. She says, with a small grin, "Yeah... Good luck with that," and I know. I am about to feel large amounts of mindless boredom.

The task today, aside from re-editing my Banned Books PR, involved sorting through "I'd like more information about Frostburg State University" cards. I placed the cards into different piles including "'friends/family,' 'internet search,' 'guidance counselor,' 'newspaper/radio ad,' and 'other,'" depending on what the prospective student had checked off.

Although I sat dreaming of chai lattes for the majority of my time sorting, I understood the importance of sorting the cards. For media and marketing purposes, it is important for FSU to have a record of where potential students are hearing of the school. If none of the students checked off "internet," then FSU will be aware that we need to up our marketing on the internet.

While the task was boring, I got it. I knew how imperative it was to the school to have the correct information regarding marketing. Bringing in new students is just as important as knowing about current students. 

This Week in Interning

Press releases know no sympathy. They are ferociously informative, and un-wholesomely bland. Which is precisely why I throw myself at them with the vigor and excitement of a child opening their first memorable and perceivable Christmas present. 

Within the realm of both journalism and press releases, there is a fine line between following the AP standard, with curtailing the text to the systematic formula laid out for article, and with finding a way to emphasize voice. 

I wrote, in all, three drafts--so far, we'll see how many more are created-- of a press release announcing the FSU banned book reading. My first draft, I noted, felt dry. Boring, even. I hated it. My voice, as a passionate reader and writer, became little, swamped by the formula I had attempted to follow. My second draft? It got better. I used a more advanced vocabulary; I put words together in a way that felt more attune to my personality and voice. 

Although the draft needed tweaking, and I gathered more information to add in, I, according to my lovely boss Liz, did quite well. 

I hope to continue my little exploration of the unlearned rules of press releases.