Nick Summers

Recently I was asked to write an opinion piece for a graphic design student working on a project about ‘promoting happiness’. One of the options was to write about why I love my job. The results of my rambling state this afternoon are below.

I am a journalist. The profession, to most outsiders, conjures up images of satanic creatures hunched over laptops, hammering out endless news stories which contain either lies or a depressing representation of the world. The constant pressure, either from rugged editors or distraught managers desperately trying to find a new source of revenue, paints an increasingly bleak picture.

Journalism, for all its hardships, makes me happy though. The job, which in my opinion is actually a way of life, gives an almost unparalleled level of satisfaction. Journalism is also a public service, documenting the world on a daily basis, keeping the public informed and holding everyone with a foothold in the economy to account.

Since August last year I’ve worked at a trade publication, based in Greenwich, called FE Week. It’s not as well known as the Financial Times, nor is it as controversial as The Sun. It’s a small weekly newspaper, with roughly 16 pages in total, reporting on the further education sector. To you and me, that means it covers everything from A-levels, apprenticeships and BTEC National Diplomas, to the infrastructure and funding of colleges, training providers and relevant government agencies. It’s not the most thrilling beat to cover, but it has its fair share of scandals, achievements and shortcomings.

What’s particularly interesting is how much money is in the sector. The government allocates a phenomenal amount to the education and training of people both young and old. To the general public it’s a welcome move, given the rising number of unemployed people in the UK and the need for skilled workers which can help us move out of the recession. With large amounts of public provision though, unfortunately, comes the capacity for misuse. I’ve heard countless stories about companies who take more than their fare share of profits through flaky training programmes, or the obscene amount of money government bodies spend on hiring consultants for an almost never ending period of time. It’s not right.

What makes me happy (although content or satisfied would perhaps be more accurate), is asking the difficult questions. It’s digging beneath the headlines and finding out whether students are actually benefiting on the ground. It’s picking up the telephone and speaking to those who really matter. When someone thanks me for working on a particular news story which they feel needs to be heard, I know I’m on the right track. Professionals in the further education sector are regularly seeing or hearing about malpractice happening in the sector, but if the government is too busy to listen it’s our newspaper which gives them a voice.

Weaving these accounts into a news story, feature or comment piece is no easy task. It’s all too easy to give a specific line a little more drama, or give a particular source more space simply because they’re being outspoken. Providing balance and accuracy alongside a creative writing style is far tougher than it looks. Finding that perfect balance and submitting an article on time gives me a fantastic feeling, matched only by seeing it in print the following day. Bylines are often perceived as a self serving tool for egotistical journalists, and while I sometimes agree with that it’s also a proof for existence.

The news I produce isn’t simply churned out by a machine. It’s mine, it has my name on it and reflects a lot of hard work. Regardless of where my life takes me in the future, readers will always be able to find proof of my existence in those words, either in print or online.

So there you have it. Being a journalist isn’t all swashbuckling escapades, mysterious investigations and having your name put up in bright lights. It’s often long and unsociable hours, difficult phone calls and increasingly negative treatment from the public. Nevertheless it’s a profession I’ve been trained in (almost moulded into actually) and which ultimately makes me happy.

How many people who work the daily grind in a stagnant office can say that? Probably but a fraction of those who stand on my daily commute into work. Which is a sad reflection on the modern workforce.

Is it wrong to want solitude? Or complete and utter privacy? Due to my work and living arrangements, I rarely get a quiet five minutes to myself anymore. Which is a shame, because it’s the only time I allow my mind to stop for a moment, relax and reflect.

Those moments are when I’m most creative. Put simply, it’s when I’m most like me.

Don’t get me wrong. Living around other people has improved, beyond all measure, my character and ability to function in society. Throughout college I was very reclusive, spending long hours studying at home and avoiding social situations which might lead to difficult questions about my personal life. At the time I was, quite simply, a little embarrassed about some of my interests and too nervous to try and pretend otherwise.

Attending university, meeting my current girlfriend and working in the journalistic profession has forced me out of that shell. Although my parents would probably never admit it, I can tell they’re astounded by the shift in my personality.

While part of me has embraced this change and welcomed the need to interact with other people, another part of me misses the isolated, withdrawn personality I used to have. It was by no means perfect, but it gave me a chance to really think about the various aspects of my life and rebalance them to make me happier.

I miss that sometimes.

Now I try and hoard every little moment of solace. The morning ritual before work. The walk into town. The time after everyone else has gone to bed in my flat. These small victories are what keep me sane and remind me I’m not just another cog in the system.

Not yet anyway.