Journalism in a big city isn’t easy, and it’s not difficult to mess it up. The lack of newer titles that sell well, reach big audiences, and draw a spectacle over proceedings is telling. The older regimes still have it all to play for. As they’ve tagged along with institutions of state for such a long time, it helps along a sense of access – and understanding.
At the end of University, you’d imagine the top destinations of choice for students are the elite companies with perks, and salaries to match. The draw is the immediacy of important work, lure of exciting future pathways, and inevitability of a better working life. It’s a tough uphill struggle, however, and few if any find it easy to handle at first.
The start of a journalists life is before even college in many instances. The journey to a nice desk in a tall building with like-minded people is not paved with three years of listening, typing, and protesting. The learning curve is the difficult part, and it’s really the only lengthy bit of it. Unfortunately, no one has yet invented a way to streamline our way to understanding more about ourselves as citizens.
To fit in, and get good work out, takes more than just winging it. There are ways to get on and get even with life, but these are not under the title “The New York Times”, or “Chicago Tribune”, but found online under self-titled, haphazard, and poorly edited profile pages. They go viral, but they make cash out of clicks and not sincere interest.
The job of getting journalism done in higher realms is not the same as a politician or any interest-based organisation, but it has its own unique culture and patterns of thought. The fitting in part happens more than once, and that’s just the day job. It all has to make sense to the naked eye as much as in your raw thinking. The balance is achieved not by being there, but by being present, and attentive to it all.
