I haven't exactly made it a secret that I want to be a journalist. Up until now I thought that writing was easy. Boy was I wrong.
Reality bitch slapped me the other day as I was receiving the grade from my first exam, an F. The class that I'm taking is called, Newswritting Across the Media.
I loved everything about this class at first. The teacher was great, I made friends, and the work was hands on. Well all of that changed 6 weeks in to the course when shit literally got real.
My teacher has my classmates and I do a lot of activities, and each one helps to improve my writing ability. That sounds great, right? You would be so wrong.
This class is very challenging. We are learning how to write newspaper leads using the inverted pyramid style. I really like to write, but these kinds of things make me question whether or not journalism is for me or should I choose broadcast instead?
Long story shot, my teacher is a picky grader, you know the type. Looking that the 25/50 points felt like some WWE wrestler body slammed me on concrete. Ouch. Before I knew it I had picked up my belongings and walked out of class in tears.
Professionalism went out the door real quick. Without hesitation I went searching to find any adult who could help me drop the class. I found the dean, bingo. Hours later when I had calmed down, I received a message from a friend.
The teacher felt bad and wanted to talk. I've prattled on long enough, so I'll get to the juicy bits. I got extra credit and decided to stay in the class, and his conscious was clear.
Needless to say, I had a rough day and it completely sucked. My brain went on an emotional rollacoaster that my body was struggling to get off of. The highlight of my evening was the cookie and cream ice cream that I bought from a bookstore, that pint was gone in 20 minutes. No lesson was learned, just another day in paradise.
