Connect the Dots

Everything happens for a reason…and I hate that I am constantly being reminded of that.

During my first semester at ASU, I applied for an internship interview day with various publication groups. Looking back on it now, I was definitely in over my head, mostly because I felt like I had to do everything I was “supposed to do” as a journalism student. Long story short, my specific day when all of my interviews were fell right in the middle of Halloween week and ASU’s homecoming week—which I was working. So you can imagine how I must’ve looked and sounded in each of my online interviews: barely holding it together and tired, attempting to look as put together and professional as I could. I fumbled through each interview running on a couple blinks of sleep and half a brain cell AND to add insult to injury I ended up in an interview for a position I did not sign up for and essentially was 100% not qualified for.

With all of this in mind, I was not super shocked when I found out no one wanted to hire me out of the 5 or so positions I had interviewed for. While I was not surprised by this I was disappointed in myself. I had failed the one thing I thought would give me peace of mind that I was choosing the right career path.

So as I was pulling myself together, trying to convince myself I was not a massive failure, I discovered Keysmash.

A production all about mental health was being put on by one of my favorite theater companies. It was like God had placed the perfect opportunity into my hands. (if it isn’t clear already, one of my dreams is to simply write and create art all about mental health)

I applied immediately on my phone and waited patiently for the next step. Now I can say I have written a script and aided in creating a full show. If I had received an offer back in the fall for something my heart wasn’t in, I wouldn’t have been able to do the one thing that floods my heart with joy.

I think back on the idea that “everything happens for a reason” a lot. There are hundreds of dots that connect in my life and yet every time I am faced with a new path, a new dot, I forget everything else. Reminding myself that there is, in fact, something better coming is so difficult to do, especially when worse things precede it.

Biased?

Right before Spring Break, I had to do an assignment for one of my classes through Twitter. The premise was to get used to using social media as a form of reporting and becoming familiar with how to optimize your reach on different platforms. But it also brought to light the emphasis on our image and how we carry ourselves in the public eye.

While I do see the importance of maintaining a clean record and being cautious of what you put online, I also find that there are a lot of personal beliefs and unique qualities stripped away when your image is too closely monitored.

One of the major ideas that I have been battling as I learn more about what I want to do for the rest of my life is where Morgan as herself starts and Morgan as a journalist begins. And the more I actually think about it, there isn’t a clear line and I don’t know how I feel about that yet.

I am an opinionated person. I thrive off of winning debates and feeling the wash of accomplishment after being vindicated. Could possibly be a toxic trait but that’s beside the point. I don’t want to have to sacrifice the personal pieces of myself for the sake of being seen as trustworthy. I think that the idea that absolute neutrality coincides with integrity is too black and white.

That idea is honestly what’s been keeping me from sharing more of my work and what has scared me into unpublishing a lot of my work. Most, if not all, of the people I know who have their own websites, feature work that is a lot less raw and personal than mine. Does that make me a less reliable source for news? It might and that’s the main thing that I think has prevented me from finding a total home in my major and the journey I have just begun.

I don’t want to disregard the importance of objectivity and accuracy because I believe in those two things and think they are of the utmost importance when sharing current events. I just don’t know yet if I can be that perfect unbiased voice.

Confused in College

In the spirit of being fully transparent, I never dreamed of being a journalist. I never aspired to be a big name broadcaster or a particularly famous publisher. Journalism just seemed practical to me, which now as I learn more about the profession I have decided to dedicate my next four years to, isn’t as stable as I pictured it. However, in my defense I was looking at going to Emerson to major in Writing, Literature, and Publishing, so either way I was setting myself up for a bit of job security disappointment.

Not only did I choose Journalism as my major because I figured it would grant me the most job opportunities post grad, but it was also the only major in my desired field of work that would take me away from Tempe. Fun fact, I am an Arizona native who grew up a 5-minute car ride away from the Tempe campus of ASU. Now no shame to the Tempe campus, I have plenty of good memories of it, like hiking A-mountain after the last day of my freshman year of high school and renting out a theatre at AMC with my friends for Halloween, but after seeing Mill Ave for the hundredth time, you would also get tired of your environment. And I still enjoy all that Tempe has to offer but now from a 30-minute car ride from Downtown Phoenix. Yes, the Cronkite School is housed on ASU’s Downtown Campus and that was the selling point for me. It wasn’t the world-wide esteem that I later learned about the Cronkite School, no, it was just the fact that I wouldn’t be stuck in Tempe for the next four years and it wasn't Tucson!

I feel weird telling people why I chose Cronkite now that I know of its renown and status in the journalism world. I’m surrounded by students that turned down other schools that hold much more weight in my mind to come to Arizona and study in my own backyard. A part of me feels like I lucked into a spot here. I never wanted to be a journalist, I just wanted to write and tell stories, which I guess is what a journalist by definition is, but I digress. If you told 17 almost 18-year-old me, that I would have imposter syndrome at Arizona State University, I would’ve hit you with the printed PDFs of my college rejection letters I saved as a memento of my disappointments.

But I wouldn’t be wrong. I felt so ahead of the game prior to coming to ASU. I had a website and a LinkedIn and I was getting a solid 5 views a week on my content. Clearly I was just awaiting a contract for my big brand deal so I could forgo the whole college thing completely. But then I was tossed, a big fish in a little pond, into the freaking ocean. Suddenly I was Nemo’s mom and everyone around me was a barracuda on the prowl. People were doing things I thought I would eventually get to in a year or so. Overnight I went from established and determined to afraid and intimidated. Yes I pay attention to the news, I think you’re ignorant if you don’t, but I wasn’t prepared for how “news centered” everyone I met was. I felt lost as people name dropped broadcasters who I only knew as “guy on ABC that wears a tie.” My peers spoke as if they were on live television and they carried themselves like they actually knew who they were.

I used to be that and oh how I long for that self-certainty. As I finish up my midterms and head into the home stretch of my freshman year, I am coming to the terrifying realization that I actually have no idea who I am or what I want to do with my life. Everyday I find I am steering farther and farther away from what I thought I wanted and yet I'm not close to anything. I am drifting in a sea of opportunity with nothing but my own fragile mental state to keep me in check, and if you know me, then you know exactly how terrifying that actually is.

At my core I know I’ll find my footing eventually, find my spot, but until then I’ll just flail my arms around and pretend I know what I’m doing. To my peers who also feel like they are wasting their potential, I promise we will make it out the other side.