Yesterday marked my first day as an intern with a magazine. I came in, gathered my assignments, and set off to work. I worked in an office with two windows and a long, corner desk. The desk held bright store-bought shelves of pink and blue. On a bulletin board under a desk shelf was written tips on successful marketing procedure, and a white, unmarked desk calendar lay on the right side beneath past issues I’d spread open for guidance.
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There was a moment shortly after beginning my work on City Scoops, a monthly feature updating the midlands on upcoming events, where I raised my hands from the keyboard, swallowed, and wondered, “How am I doing this? Am I really equipped for doing this?” I felt pressure to write the best City Scoops the magazine had ever seen. I wasn’t just a college intern. I was a college graduate intern. I’m supposed to know things, yet for one small moment I felt horrified, like I knew absolutely nothing and had somehow Imperius Cursed The Editor to take me on. I gave myself that one small moment.
Then I moved on.
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Shortly after noon, I’d completed the pile of City Scoops The Editor had given me. I learned that when compiling successful press releases, an intern’s job is to find key sentences that highlight the gist of the event and use connective phrases to bring the information together into a small, informative article that gives the reader only the most significant bits that help them decide whether or not they want to attend said event. It is also nice to make said significant bits fun for the reader to read. Whether or not I accomplished this is still unknown.
The last bit of my time there was filled with compiling yet more press releases. But I was okay with that. I was so busy working I couldn’t even believe it was 2:00 when Assistant Editor came into my office to tell me she was going to lunch. At 2:40, I finished up the press release I was working on and started packing my things. I handed the press releases back to The Editor and told her I’d had a great first day. There was something soothing about that quiet, corner office that made me want to get down to business and do my job. It didn’t hurt that The Editor and Assistant Editor were some of the nicest ladies I’d ever met. For my first day ever as an intern doing something garnered towards my interests, I felt uncharacteristically calm and, after that small moment of doubt I gave myself, competent. I can do that, I thought to myself on the way out the door. I can totally do that.
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At 3:30, I had an interview with an art museum for a position as a social media intern. I arrived on Main St. in Downtown Columbia half an hour early. I wanted to dip in somewhere for a quick bite to eat since I’d forgotten to eat breakfast that morning, got half a football field down the other side of the street, before deciding I probably didn’t have time, and walked in a circle back to the museum. As I walked, I thought how much Main St. looked like New York in design and architecture. There was the large, silver Free Times sign, the buildings that alternated in shades of pink, mustard, and brick. Now that I think back on the buildings and palm trees planted down the street, I realize its style is closer to Charleston, which of course makes me nostalgic for the cobblestone city. I wish all of Columbia would look like Main St. and campus.
Inside, I sat down for some of the best coffee of my life while I waited for the interview, silently hoping I didn’t go over my time on the meter. As I prepared my cup, I felt that feeling of inadequacy creeping back up my neck. I pulled down on the lever and watched the black coffee spill into the cup. I took a small cup of creamer and peeled the cover back, then remembered I hadn’t shake it first and carefully lay the cover down, then carefully jostled the cup. I look like an idiot, I thought, and grabbed another half-and-half. As I was scrolling through the latest pictures on my Instagram feed, a girl with blonde hair pulled back in a pony tail came down to greet me. “Hi, my name is Jordan,” she said, shaking my hand. She wore a white quarter-length blouse and black skirt. We went upstairs to a meeting room, and as we walked, we talked about the weather.
“I’m so glad it’s starting to cool down now,” I said. “I’m not a hot weather person. Actually, I’m not an extreme weather person, in general.”
Jordan laughed. “My favorite season is fall.”
“Mine, too!”
A few minutes later, Allison, who’d sent me the initial email about the interview, came in and introduced herself. She had short brown hair and wore a knee-length yellow skirt. They asked me some questions about myself and my experience with social media. I told them about my blog and that Twitter was my favorite social networking site. Like with the magazine internship interview, they seemed happy to take me on right then and there. Maybe it’s an internship thing, but I really like that style of interviewing. “Hey, we like you, join our team.” I’m a big fan of bypassing the waiting-to-see-if-you-got-the-job part. They invited me to stay for the afternoon and tour the museum, but since my meter was quickly running out, I decided to come back later when I had enough quarters.
Driving down the road back towards home, I thought of all the things I had on my plate now: a full-time job and two internships, plus all the writing and blogging I want to do. It didn’t feel nearly as daunting as it might have sounded. My word through the end of the year is going to be “pace.” That is going to be my key to success as I tackle these projects. I’m going to pace my assignments, pace myself, pace my mind. And, I’m going to breathe. I’m going to do lots of breathing. I think that will be an enormous help.
