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Metropolitan Mentor

Until I was a senior in college, I had always flirted with the idea of using my writing skills professionally. But it wasn't until my last quarter before graduation that I had the guts to act on it. It was then that I got up my nerve to walk into the UW Daily newsroom and pick up where the flirting left off.

However, as I did some research about getting into journalism, I realized that I'd have a hell of a time getting a job with only that tiny morsel of experience. I was going to have to get an internship.

After an exhausting search, I landed a job that paid nothing but would compensate me with something worth more than any minimum-wage paycheck. What I got in return for semislavery was an honest-to-goodness mentor.

The job was at the now-defunct magazine MetropolitanLiving, under the tutelage of Editor-in-Chief Alison Peacock. Rather than sticking me with coffee-fetching and pencil-sharpening duties, Alison actually let me do real work. I wrote short articles, helped fact-check stories, and soaked up as much knowledge of the business as I could. Alison showed me how a good query letter should look and what things can really tick an editor off (namely, missing your deadlines). But more importantly, she encouraged me to pursue a career in journalism. She boosted my confidence by letting me know she thought I was capable of producing professional quality work.

On the last day of the internship, Alison gave me some devastating news: it was very likely that MetropolitanLiving was going to fold. It was disheartening. I was just about to graduate and the economy was in the tank. MetropolitanLiving was one of several publications going through financial difficulties. Hundreds of highly qualified, jobless writers were looking for work in Seattle. How the heck was I going to get a job as a wet-behind-the-ears greenhorn?

After I left MetropolitanLiving, Alison and I kept in touch. Though she was struggling with her own employment issues, all she wanted to hear about was how I was doing. I heard nothing but encouragement from her. I may well have given up on my writing career without her friendship and positive reinforcement. But I stuck it out and after five months of unemployment, I got a job at a small business journal in Everett. Later I discovered from my new boss that Alison's glowing recommendation had given me the competitive edge over other candidates.

Sadly, a month after I started my own job, my mentor was out of work. It was my turn to encourage. I sent her positive e-mail messages hoping that they would help her as much as her support had aided me. It didn't take long before Alison's name was on a new masthead. She was a part of the team at Tekbug, a lifestyle publication for techies. Despite going our separate ways, Alison still had time for me. Though she wasn't my boss, she stepped in as an informal mentor. We periodically met for a beer and some shop talk. As a member of a two-man newsroom, I felt pretty cloistered. Our meetings made me feel like I belonged in the journalism world and eventually even scored me a few freelance gigs for Tekbug along the way.

When Alison decided that she wanted to take a sabbatical to write fiction, she had a replacement in mind for her position at Tekbug: me. I was flattered and pounced on the opportunity. Unfortunately, Tekbug itself was very close to being shut down by the owners. Two months after I started, I was told that December 2002 would be the last issue. The suddenness of the situation was tough, but even worse was the fact that my mentor was now thousands of miles away in Tennessee. Except for our few occasional phone calls, I would have to go this one alone.

Fortunately, the publisher liked my work and offered me the opportunity to redesign Computer Source Magazine (Tekbug's sister publication). As I finish my fifth month as editor-in-chief, I can honestly say that I wouldn't be here without Alison's mentoring. As I begin the search for an intern this spring, I hope that I'll have as much impact on my intern's career as Alison has had on mine.

 

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