On Friday night, WJC students from a number of different semester met with Greg Perreault, WJC program coordinator, for dinner at El Torito.
(From left: Chris Guzman, Spring 2009; Greg Perreault, SIJ 2004; Kaitlin Schluter, Spring 2010; Alaina Pangelina, Spring 2010; Andrew Collins, Fall 2010; Cynthia Ribas-Santos, Fall 2010; Andrew Entzminger, Fall 2010; Amy Seed, Spring 2010; Cindy Ortiz, Fall 2009)
At the Baptist Journalism Conference in Nashville, Tenn., alumni came together for a lunch with WJC Director Terry Mattingly (top left).
Top row, left: WJC Director Terry Mattingly, Monica Martinez of California Baptist University (Spring 2010), Morgan Daniels of Trevecca Nazarene University (Fall 2009), Anna Martin of Bethel University (Fall 2008), Elizabeth Wood of Union University (Fall 2008), Paul Conner of North Greenville University (Spring 2010).
Bottom row, from left: Jo Ellen Weedman of Milligan College (Summer 1998), Angela Abbamonte of Union University (Fall 2009), Adam Woods of Milligan College (Fall 2009) and Jordan Buie of Union University (Fall 2009). Not pictured: Todd Starnes of Lee University (Summer 1996).
By Luke Reiter (WJC Fall '08)
Washington is a weird town.
It has the power to change your thinking, challenge your sympathies and alter your interests––and that’s if you approach it correctly. It’s composed of much more than the silver-tongued senators portrayed in movies, and likewise there’s a lot more to see than the token shot of the national mall (although it is impressive). If there are two things you’ll get in spades upon arriving in D.C., they are new experiences and tips on handling new experiences.
Many of those tips contain piercing insight and are endlessly useful, but don’t become so concerned with following the tips that you miss what’s going on around you. Following a cheat sheet that reminds you what to say, wear, think or do in a given set of circumstances will encumber more than if you had dived in with a little pluck and no plan. I won’t trouble you with the quotidian how-to list: you’ll learn by experience which side of the escalator to stand on, how to sneak onto the Metro without paying (this is not WJC endorsed) and what to order at Ben’s Chili Bowl.
My advice is simple, and it’s more about you than D.C. Heaven knows what you will see and do in the next four months, but I can promise you how much you gain from your time will a direct return on how much of yourself you invest. What you get out of this semester depends on you.
Continue reading "WJC, Internships, Relationships and You" »
I hate to jump right into the clichés here, but there’s a reason why it’s called Best Semester. My semester in Washington (the fall of 2008) was easily the best semester of my college career. I’m sure you’ve been hit over the head with the reasons a thousand times now (by alums, WJC staff, that fancy brochure, your professors), but I’m going to reiterate three reasons why WJC will be your best semester.
First off, DC is an amazing city. I had the privilege of being there during the historic 2008 election. And, thankfully, the guy I voted for won, making it even better. But that doesn’t mean that just because you’re there in the spring of 2010 means it isn’t going to live up. You need to go out there and explore. Get lost. Use the buses and the Metro. Meet some locals. Eat at weird restaurants. Take a cheap bus trip to Boston, New York, Philadelphia. Where I come from (Texas), the cities and states aren’t so close to each other. Take advantage of the east coast and its compactness. Whatever you do, don’t play it safe. That’s for when you go back home.
When we flew into D.C. from sunny CA, we were immediately struck with the 70-degree temperature difference. It was obvious we were in for the ride of our lives — but it was one of the best experiences we’ve ever had. We now pass on these tips to live vicariously through you, so pay close attention.
Push your comfort zone.
D.C. is a humongous, bustling city waiting to be adventured and explored, and no matter how often you go venturing out these next four months, you will most likely leave feeling like you only got a brief taste of the nation’s capitol. Take this opportunity to hone your skills of spontaneity. If a friend asks you to go somewhere with them, ignore that lazy urge to sit in front of the TV for the rest of the evening to catch up on The West Wing or Grey’s Anatomy and jump at the opportunity. Who knows? You might end up spending an entire night walking from an IHOP in Virginia to get to the Lincoln Memorial in time for the most beautiful sunrise of your life like I (Karin) did. I’m thankful nearly every day now that I was up for something a little crazy that night.
Continue reading "Team California’s Guide to Survival in D.C." »
It seems that every time I ask for career advice, someone always says, with the look on their face that they are about to impart the wisest wisdom any wise man has ever whispered, “You know son, it’s not what you know, it’s who you know.”
The giver of advice looks at you and nods his head. “It’s true, don’t forget it.” Then he leaves and tells you nothing more.
Well, thank you very much great provider of professional platitudes, but now what?
James, the great New Testament writer who has sparked many a debate in Sunday School classrooms around the world, wrote that faith without works is dead. I contend that clichés without a follow-up are equally void of life.
So here’s what I’m going to do: I’m going to pick up where the self-righteous advice-giver left off. I will tell you how to find that certain “Who,” how to get to know this person, and what to do when you meet “Who” face to face.
Greg asked me to write something about what I learned in my time at the Summer Institute of Journalism, the WJC's predecessor program. I came to SIJ for a month in 2003, the summer after my freshman year at Olivet Nazarene University in Illinois. Before that, I had visited our nation's capital only one time on a family vacation when I was 15. I had just returned from a mission trip to Peru, and my family picked me up in New York and drove to D.C. for a week of sightseeing.
I hated it. It was unbearably hot and crowded, and having spent the last month south of the equator, I was sick and tired and white as that house on Pennsylvania Avenue. I wanted to goo hoommme.
SIJ beat that memory out of me. Sure, we went to the monuments, the museums, the cemetery like you're supposed to (how else do you prove you were actually here?), but we also spent time at the 7-Eleven at the end of the block and at Eastern Market. We played Mafia and the adverb game, and we watched the movie where the Tom Hanks-Meg Ryan chemistry first lit up the screen. We worshiped on the CCCU's roof, barely noticing the Capitol view. We gossiped about New York Times plagiarist Jayson Blair – not an SIJ alum, as it turns out – and we practiced our impressions of SIJ speaker Michael Gerson, the Wheaton
College alum who was then President Bush's speechwriter. We became experts on the public transportation system, and blisters quickly taught us why commuter flip-flops are critical.
I returned to the District for two more summer journalism programs and a semester-long internship on Capitol Hill before I graduated in 2006, and I've lived in the D.C. suburbs since then. The long answer to Greg's short question – what did you learn at SIJ? – is this: I learned to love D.C. for the people it attracts.
-Tricia, SIJ 2003
I walked into the North Ballroom at the Walt Disney Hilton in Orlando for my first session at the Florida Press Association conference and was stunned.
I was, by far, the youngest person there. As a 21 year old, I felt as though I was playing dress up in my suit worn for the first time since leaving D.C. in December. There wasn’t even anyone in their late twenties or early thirties. I tried desperately to not feel out of place and chose to sit towards the back, furiously taking notes.
How exactly have I landed a job as an editor of a weekly newspaper in a bedroom community of Tampa Bay, the fastest growing urban area in Florida? Well, I like to call it divine appointment; others would point to the industry’s struggles: shrinking newsholes, shrinking staffs and the ensuing desperation.
I was hired as a reporter less than a month after graduating from college.
I showed up for my first day. I was nervous. After all, my limited reporting experience had left the idea of community journalism a bit vague. What exactly was I supposed to do?
Within ten minutes on that first day, I was informed that the managing editor had turned in their two weeks notice. As I was the only full time reporter, I would assume the position. I’m pretty certain that I had one of those Victorian style episodes. “Vapors,” I think they’re called. I spent those two weeks asking every question I could think of, memorizing the AP Stylebook, relying on sleeping pills to rest at night and praying. I did lots of praying.
