Going through the motions

By Matthew Boyle | mboyle@flagler.edu

I sealed the large manila envelope filled with examples of my best work, a polished resume, letters of recommendation and my essay about the future of journalism, slapped five stamps on it and shoved it in the mailbox at the post office.

There goes my life. A manila envelope full of stuff I did.

I can’t believe everything that defines me as a professional and a graduate school candidate was in that envelope. I couldn’t fit the countless hours I’ve spent teaching myself HTML, photography and videography or writing and reporting stories.

The envelope didn’t have enough room for my passionate journalistic debates with other students and faculty. It was too small for my volunteer work with the Society of Professional Journalists.

How does a person that opens these packages on the other end decide who’s worthy and who isn’t? If whoever he or she is on the other side isn’t seeing all of me in my manila envelope, I would be the other applicants share the same dilemma.

I sent my envelope to the graduate program at the School of Communication of American University in Washington, D.C. Interim Director of Graduate Services Jill Grinager said 18 students are accepted out of more than 250 applicants. How can they tell who’s “good enough” by what’s in that envelope?

I haven’t just applied to graduate schools. I’ve been keeping my options open and have been looking for jobs too.

I e-mail resumes, cover letters and clips to every job listing possible but only get bites from about one out of a hundred publications. Hiring editors that do reply usually respond with something like, “I like your stuff but we don’t have any openings right now. Sorry.”

The editor of the newspaper I did an internship at last summer likes my work ethic but doesn’t have any openings. He doesn’t expect any to open up in the near future, either.

What about my professional network? Let’s see. I’ve sent e-mails and left voicemails for every editor, reporter, writer and professor. They either don’t respond or reply with “Sorry. I can’t help you right now.”

Why should I keep going through the motions if none of them are working? What’s the point? My drive was gone.

I had to dig my passion for journalism out of the heap of meaningless tasks. How though? Everything that my professors and mentors have been telling me to do wasn’t getting any results. I pushed networking. I perfected my resume. I had more clips and published works than I could ask for. I still wasn’t getting any results.

Every day, I ran out to the mailbox at my house when the mail came. There wasn’t anything for me from American University or from anywhere else that interested me.

If I wasn’t at home when the mail came, I called my mom and asked her if I got anything. Every time, the same reply, “No, sorry Matt.”

How are we supposed to keep on keeping on when we don’t know what, if anything, is ever going to come of our efforts? What’s the point?

Should we follow the advice of professors and mentors blindly? It’s worked for me in the past when I was trying to secure and unpaid internship. But, now, I’m fighting for a job. I can’t work for free anymore.

USA Today executive editor John Hillkirk said to Penn State’s Daily Collegian that now would be a great time to be a young journalist if newspapers and media outlets weren’t struggling with business challenges.

So what? The business people can’t figure it out so that means I can’t get a job? Nor can any other driven students?

When I hear about a student or a recent graduate landing a job or even just scoring an interview, I’m shocked in amazement for them. When we graduate, we’ll be lucky if we’re employed in the field we specialize in.

Too many people I know plan on delivering pizzas, waiting tables, tending bar or selling insurance. It’s not fair for any of us.

We’ve all heard about the recession and that it’s bearing down on us all. But, until now, when I’m looking for jobs and applying to graduate schools, it never sank in. These are tough times for all of us. And, now, we have to go out into the world and face them. None of us have any clue what’s next.

As for now, all I can do is wait. I have no control over what happens on the other end of the line. Nor do I even know who’s making a decision about my future with just the contents of a manila envelope.

So, I hope whoever opens that manila envelope likes me. If that person doesn’t like my stuff, I’m screwed.

To the person opening the envelope: I can do the work. Just give me a shot.