The Evolution of Frustration.

It's been a busy week with a lot going on - both externally and internally.  As the week draws to a close, I'm pleased to say I feel better about its happenings and more importantly, have a renewed faith in the tentative future path I've set for myself.

Much of the deflation I experienced earlier in the week had to do with my work as a staff writer for Valley College's campus newspaper, Valley Star.  If you missed the prequal and am wondering what I'm doing at Valley, I've been taking classes there for a year.  I started with an on-camera techniques course in fall 2009, shortly after KNBC's Jennifer Bjorklund and I teamed up to produce twice-weekly dog training segments for "Today in LA".  I figured some on-camera work time when we weren't actually trying to shoot something that would air, would be a good thing.

The following semester, I took a broadcasting production and advanced news writing course for fun.  I can probably list 100 things that are super annoying about taking classes with people half your age, and another 50 things I think are wrong with the current state of education in California, but I'll limit my comments to saying that I enjoyed the classes.  The production work (once we finally GOT to it) was great fun - especially since Valley has a recently renovated, state-of-the art production studio.  The news writing class left me pining for my early days of J-school -- before I was training dogs and even before I was working in public relations.

I've been training dogs full time for nearly 10 years.  Longer than I've done anything else.  I love it and am thankful to have had the opportunity.  However, arrangements have changed and my circumstances are different, and it has become clear that training dogs might not be the career I ride off into the sunset of eventual retirement with.  This realization is likely what helped my inner-journalist start trying to rear it's wordy head.  That said, I hope to somehow always be involved in dog training - at least part-time or as a hobby trainer.

I've been working on the Valley Star since Aug. 30.  I know we're all students and I know the rest of the class is working as either a reporter or editor with, at best, experience on their high school paper and a total of three prior journalism classes at Valley - one of which is more of a historical look at mass communications.  I was expecting some cluttered writing, random AP errors and a handful of grammar/punctuation mistakes in the first issue.

Multiply that by 50.  The first issue was a mess.  Clumsy writing aside, it was chock full of AP, grammar and punctuation errors.  Even worse, track changes notations somehow made their way into the printed version.  Didn't anybody proof-read the production thumbnails before sending the package to the printer?  And the other errors.  How did the writer, section editor and copy editor all miss them?

I chalked it up to being the first issue and hoped it would get better.  It didn't.

Each issue had similar problems.  And they got worse.  One issue ran with a lead story (mine) completely devoid of paragraphs.  Twice I had people edit mistakes IN to my work.  That one really got me.  I'm perfectly capable of making my own mistakes; please don't help me.

When the fifth issue hit stands and I found it to be riddled with the same types of careless mistakes, I was pretty much over the paper and was seriously contemplating dropping the class.  I'm not there to work on a degree.  I have one.  I'm only there to build a collection of clips to showcase my writing skills.  If we can't produce something I'm willing to show people, what's the point?  (It's worth noting that throughout the process, I've repeatedly offered to help edit work, etc., but have only been taken up on that offer a couple times.)

Apparently I'm more transparent than I realize.  On Wednesday I got a call from the editor-in-chief who said the program advisor thought I'd been unusually quiet and was worried I might be a bit deflated.

Yes.  You could say that.

To make this long story at least a little shorter, conversations between the editor, adviser and myself resulted in some changes taking place during the next staff meeting.  The adviser stepped up to lean on the staff about the repeated mistakes - and more importantly - implemented some procedural changes to hopefully fix them.  His policy has been to be very hands off (other than, say, to be the final person to veto someone's attempted use of "OMFG" in a story) and let the editors completely run the paper, but I think this group really needs the extra push.

I'm now sort of an adjunct editor.  It's extra work, as I'm now responsible for working with other staff writers to help edit their stories to printable status, but so far, I'm enjoying it.

Which brings me to more current news.  I'm applying to graduate school.  I've been thinking about it for a while - for a couple of reasons.  No matter how I slice it (or, as a PR person, "spin it"), the fact that I've been "playing with dogs," does not reflect well on my resume when I'm trying to get back into PR.  It's worse when I'm looking for a reporting job.  It would be difficult under normal economic circumstances, never mind when we're facing the highest rate of unemployment since the Great Depression.  Why not take this time to go back to school, brush up on my J-school skills and pick up some new ones so I can attempt to re-enter the job market with stronger educational credentials behind me?

The other reason for earning a master's is the ability to teach at the college level.  I love the teaching element of dog training and I think I'd like to eventually teach introductory college-level journalism courses.  Fifteen  years later, I still have fond memories of my J101 course.  Professor Henrietta Charles.  She was a hard-ass; three mistakes of any combination - grammar, spelling, AP, punctuation - was a fail.  Her high standards are largely what helped me develop an unwavering respect for the craft of writing.  I still live in fear of the G.F.E.  (That's "gross factual error" for you non- J-school types.)

Still with me?  Almost done.  I swear.

I'm applying for the fall 2011 semester.  That's nine months away.  A lot can change between now and then.  Who knows, maybe I'll land what will become my next perfect job.  I'm keeping my options open.  I submitted an application for a summer internship program with the Associated Press.  I'm not sure I'd enjoy a career in writing breaking news, but a summer internship would definitely be a good way to find out.  Plus it would look really good on my resume.

I had to submit a very comprehensive application packet which included two letters of recommendation.  I'm blessed to know people who are willing to write very nice things about me.  Reading the letters was hugely flattering and just the ego boost I needed in the wake of a frustrating week.  I think as adults, we should ask a colleague to draft a letter of recommendation at least once a year.

"Hey Phil, would you be willing to write a letter of recommendation for me?"

"Sure, Steve.  For what?"

"My ego."

The other thing that happened, is when I mentioned to the journalism adviser (one of my letter-writers) that I was also applying to graduate school and would be asking him to write a separate letter for that, he asked where I was applying.  When I answered, "CSUN," he responded with, "Why don't you apply to Berkeley?"

This probably peeks into some deep, dark corner of my psyche and reveals that I am my own worst critic.  Or maybe it was because of the week I was having.  It was probably both, but my immediate thought was, "OMG.  He thinks I could get into Berkeley?!"  Honestly, it never would have occurred to me to even apply.  But yeah, it felt good to know someone else thought I could pull it off.

The last couple weeks have felt pretty funky.  I've been frustrated by a lack of direction and had grown tired of feeling like I'm spinning my wheels professionally.  I still don't have the answers, but I've decided on a couple steps.  Baby steps.  At least I'm moving.  And I guess that's the point.  When you're feeling stuck, do something.  Anything.  It might not even turn out to be the right answer, but at least it's something.

"You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself in any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know. You are the guy who'll decide where to go." 

Doctor's orders.

Back to School. Otherwise Known As "What the Hell Am I Going to Do w/ My Life?!"

Summer is drawing to a close and that makes me happy.  It's fun watching my college-age friends head off to school and begin this new chapter of their lives.  Oh what I'd give to be 18 again...

As for me, it's been a long three months of wondering what I'm going to be when I grow up - and I'm definitely NOT 18.  I still don't know, but with school starting - and my having enrolled in a couple of classes - I'm hopeful that I'll soon figure it out.

It's a strange feeling not knowing exactly what you want to do with your life.  Especially when, at 23, I thought I had it all mapped out.  A college grad gainfully employed in the field of my choice, I was pretty sure I knew where I was going in life.  What I didn't know was that detours exist where you least expect them.

My first dog (as an adult) came into my life while I was working as the community relations director for a local non-profit cancer organization.  I wanted her to be well-mannered, so we enrolled in a basic obedience class at a local training school.  That's where I first met the team at J9's K9s.  By the time we completed our first semester of training, I was hooked.  The classes were fun and the six-credits-away-from-a-Psych-minor in me enjoyed sinking my teeth into the learning theory side of dog training.  And therein the hobby was born!  I continued taking classes, started volunteering, and set out to digest as much R+ training information/education as I could find and afford.  Eighteen months later, my position at the cancer foundation was eliminated (public relations: often last to hire, first to fire!) and I was out of a job.

At that point I made the brave leap into dog training full time.  Pretty bold career move, but I was fortunate to have (and am thankful for) the support of J9's K9s, and our skill sets worked well together as I was able to bring extensive public relations and marketing expertise to the table in exchange for the opportunity to build my chops as a trainer.  Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that eight years later I'd still be training dogs.  What a ride.

As my eighth year as a full-time trainer comes to a close, I find myself missing the non-profit and writing work of my past.  This has left me entertaining the idea of returning to the "real world" of work -- the typical nine-to-five, humans-only as clients kind of set up.  While I dread the thought of consistently getting up early each morning, having nights and weekends as my own (aside from when I'd continue to teach as a hobby) is incredibly appealing.  The dog trainer's schedule is, without a doubt, NOT social life or personal relationship friendly.  Hard to make plans with friends and/or meet someone when you're working during the very times most people are available: nights and weekends.

Problem is, for as much as I love non-profit work, I'm also intrigued by the idea of working as a print reporter.  When I first went to college, that's what I thought I wanted to do.  I've always loved writing, so print journalism seemed like a good fit - until I took an Intro to Public Relations class, loved it, and decided to detour over to the world of Spin Doctoring, er, I mean public relations.  Now I'm standing at the proverbial fork in the road: which path to pursue?  Public relations or print journalism?  And here's the rub: they're just different enough that you can't really bounce from one to the other, at least not in the direction I'm trying to go.  The market is much more open to journalists-turned-publicists than it is publicists-turned-journalists.  The theory is that journalists know how to write for journalists whereas, to journalists, PR people are often Spin Doctors and Hacks.  (C'mon... can't we all just get along?)

This means I'll likely have to pursue entry-level opportunities as a reporter.  A bit stinging to the ego, but I'm getting used to it.  The bigger problem is that presently, I'm not really even marketable as an entry-level reporter because I lack a collection of general writing clips.  My current freelance work has all been about dogs.  Great for dog-related publications; bad for general dailies.  Speaking of writing about dogs, check out my current WDJ piece on how to pick a dog trainer and the difference between a trainer and a behaviorist.  (See, I can't NOT act as a publicist - even for myself.  GAH!)    This brings me to the current Master Plan:

I've enrolled in another semester of Los Angeles Valley College.  Although it's best described in general as a high school with ash trays, it does have a journalism department and respectable campus paper.  My hope is that I can generate enough broad based clips to showcase my abilities as a reporter in order to find an entry level job with a newspaper or magazine.  I'm also attempting to add a variety of general knowledge classes. I feel a bit like I've spent eight years living under a rock; I stayed so involved with dogs and dog sports (as a profession, a hobby and an overall passion) that I sort of lost touch with the overall world around me.  Not a good situation for an aspiring general reporter.  I'm looking into classes in administration of justice, sociology and psychology.  Trying to add them late in the game (school starts on Monday!) at a time when budget cuts have obliterated much of the academic offerings has left me stuck with attempting to add in person.  Wish me luck.

If you read my earlier post about being a control freak, you understand how my current situation is driving me nuts!  I can't stand not knowing what my next move will be.  Even though I recognize that I'm taking steps toward finalizing that next move, I'm horribly impatient and really want to hurry up and get there - wherever there happens to be.

No doubt a life lesson.  School is in session in more ways than one.

The Year of Living Fearlessly.

I'm not much into jewelry.  I always wear a watch and most always wear a pair of simple hoop earrings.  Beyond that I'll maybe wear a subtle necklace, usually a Sterling silver chain with a small paw print charm. 

It's rare that I shop for jewelry or similar accessories, but one night I was aimlessly searching the 'net and came across this necklace.  It caught my eye because it's Sanskrit for "Fearlessness," a concept I've been thinking a lot about lately.

I am completely guilty of often letting fear dictate how I live my life.  I've probably known this on a sub-conscious level for some time, but only recently have come to face up to it in an attempt to move through it.  Fear is a powerful, powerful beast of a thing that manifests itself in all sorts of ways.  For me, one manifestation is the need for control; a need to always feel like I have my ducks in row, know exactly what my next move will be, and know how best to maintain order, or quickly restore it when chaos ensues.  I've learned that, when you grow up in an environment that's most politely described as, "chaotic," it's not uncommon to develop control issues.  Perhaps this further explains why I've ended up spending several years working as a professional dog trainer.  Ask any of the good ones -- they'll tell you we're all control freaks!  Gee, and I thought I just loved dogs.  

Thing is, at some point you (thankfully) come to realize that the fear is getting in the way of life - or at least the life you wish to have for yourself.  I've spent much of my life making decisions based on what I thought others thought I should do or what I thought seemed to be the safest or most responsible choice, even if it wasn't what I really wanted to do.  Or I'd talk myself out of what could potentially be a really cool thing, by playing a looped-tape of what-ifs in my mind.  Stupid fear.

I bought the necklace and as I wear it, I hope it serves as a tangible reminder to not let fear interfere with life.  We only go around once.  No sense chickening out! 

"The only thing we have to fear is fear itself - nameless, unreasoning, unjustified, terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance."  -- FDR, March 4, 1933