Stony Brook University Newsroom
For those of you pursuing a career in journalism, you might want to check out this recent piece courtesy of the Chronicle of Higher Education. Worried that talented young writers are collectively ditching their dreams of producing Pulitzer Prize-winning press-stoppers en masse in exchange for…I don’t know, an M.B.A. (or some other heinously boring degree)? Luckily, the Chronicle of Higher Education would like to assuage your apprehensions with some simple, yet bluntly comprehensive advice: just STOP.
Or, as the irritatingly optimistic a capella song suggests, “don’t worry, be happy.” However, I suppose I should mention that this particular song debuted years before the era of private equity.
But, hey…everything’s going to be fine, right? I mean, according to this, throngs of J-schoolers are flooding major programs in dozens of colleges and universities nationwide…despite the thinning job market of which they are constantly-and I do mean pretty near constantly-reminded.
So, this is my first post. Wait…let me rephrase that. This is my first blog post ever. Yeah, I’d say that’s a little more accurate…perhaps a little less deceiving (and a lot less presumptuous).
Go ahead and laugh. In this vibrant age of Twitter and mile-a-minute texting spasms, yours truly has never left a mark on the uber-malleable tableau of the Internet.
I’ve followed the same high school track forum since before I joined my high school team, (maybe it’s a little creepy that I’m still following it now) and I’ve been known to sever an hour or two from of my day skipping around on the infamous “ROFL” thread on LiquidPoker.net, my boyfriend’s second life. However, even then, I’ve always been a ‘lurker’…strictly a reader, never a contributor. To be perfectly honest, I’m not even sure I’ve ever read a blog intentionally.
We in the Stony Brook University School of Journalism have been told that blogging may play a more significant role in the future of journalism…the sort of reworked new face that’s just hobbled out of the operating room. Maybe it still bears a few surgical scars, but surely enough, it’s lifting out of the grogginess of the painkillers and taking on a life of its own.