On Skills Related to Journalism, otherwise known as, How to walk up to a complete stranger, smile, and start talking as if you've known them all your life.

In writing for the Chronicle, nobody doubts we’ve learned a huge number of skills already, only two months into the program. But as an inexperienced reporter, fresh out of AP English 3 with nothing else under my belt, I’ve come to discover many more skills and pros aside from the ability to interview well, speak loudly and confidently with complete strangers, and write in the proper format using terms as clever as possible to draw the reader in. I’ve learned more about human nature.

In every interview I’ve done, I’ve been met by, if not complete enthusiasm and smiling faces, then at least an absolute willingness to help as much as possible. Going in, maybe I had some dystopian view of myself dodging cascades of rotting vegetables as I ran from the angry, misunderstood interviewee. Or perhaps I was sure that I would come up to a stranger to interview them, and they’d think, “Who is this girl-- This mere high school-age child? How dare she approach me with such inane facsimiles of interview questions?” Either way, I was sure I would try my best and be met with resistance. It couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

My first interview was with a professor who had won a teaching award. She was, admittedly, not too hard to track down, though at the time I was tearing my hair out and obsessing over checking email and finding correct phone numbers. I recited what I’d say thoroughly, repeating it over and over as the phone rang. When finally the secretary in the English Department of San Jacinto answered, she was brisk and sharp. My heart pounded. Was this what it would be like-- cold walls of communication where I craved only a single willing response? The secretary connected me to the professor’s phone, where I was left to eye the line of ants coming in my open door as no one answered.

On my third call directly to the professor's office, she picked up. Finally! Though she was on her way to a meeting, she admitted, she had a few minutes to answer questions. I was forced to forget my nervousness in communicating with her as she responded to my requests, questions, and comments with smiles that were palpable through the phone. Quickly, I relaxed and even laughed a little in response to some of her wittier comments. As the phone beeped, signaling the end of the call, I let it drop from my fingers and began to furiously type out the related article. Was this what it was like?

And it has been, since then. From an artist offering to buy me coffee to other students emailing later to make sure I had everything I needed, I’ve found my forays into the public to glean information altogether harmonious. People are kind, I’ve learned, and eager to help where they know they’re wanted. If I give a warm smile and act interested in their lives, they will most of the time be happy to answer with an equally warm response.

I know one day I’ll come to face that cold wall I so dread-- I’ve been told so multiple times by journalists I’ve met while at the Chronicle. I know one day I’ll smile in my overly enthusiastic manner and be met by an eye roll and a monosyllabic answer, and I think I’ll be ready for it when the time comes—after all, these congenial members of society I’ve been in communication with are preparing me for it.

What can I say? It comes with the job. But hopefully I’ll be able to avoid the rotting vegetables.

Sara