the internship, part two

The three assistant editors went out for lunch with me and the other editorial intern, Jennifer, during the second week of my internship. My boss, Leah, drove us to a local wrap place. We all sat on barstools, eating our wraps, talking about our lives and editing. In the car, twenty-three-year-old Amanda mentioned that, before coming to the company a year earlier, she had read a book a week. “Me too!” I exclaimed, wondering if my reading enjoyment would lessen as I read more at work.

It’s funny: I remember telling a friend of mine once that if I could find a job where I would read books all day, I would be perfectly happy. When I’d made the comment, editing hadn’t occurred to me as a job possibility. But at this internship, my primary job task centered on exactly what I’d wished for: reading. What I loved most my job was the variety of materials I got to read: one day I would be reading about religion; the next, raising children. I read relationship books, self-help legal guides, comics, fiction. Each day I learned about new subjects and consumed more information.  The downside, of course, was that I gradually didn’t care much for other reading, and my reading-for-pleasure waned during the time I spent at the company.

Bequita, who had received her undergraduate degree from a prestigious university in the Midwest, asked me about graduate school as she moved her bowl of cinnamon pita chips between us. “Do you like it?” she wondered.

“Yeah, I do. My classes are centered on things I’m actually interested in … and for me, who didn’t major in journalism in undergrad, it’s really important to get this training.”

“Hmm,” she answered, unconvinced. “I’m still upset about how little my degree has done for me. And then there’s student loans!”

I nodded. She had voiced an unspoken concern of my own: sometimes I wondered if graduate school would help me find the job I’d wanted when I’d enrolled. I hoped that the results of my education would justify my investment in it. But sitting there at Fresh City, the only one of five women who had pursued a master’s degree, I realized I was the educational superior, but the least vocationally advanced. Education’s great, but I was working for people with less formal training than mine; it seems in this profession, experience is everything.

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