I love talking to people and listening to their stories. I also love compiling stories of my own. Sources come in many shapes and sizes, and that's what I've dedicated this entire post to. You might be a journalist student if you encounter these types of sources:
1. The Blabber. This is the type of source who's extremely enthused about the article you're doing, and sometimes ends up telling you their life story instead of focusing on the questions you're asking. Try to polite steer the conversation as best as you can, but don't be rude. Chances are you may need this source again.
2. The Information System. This type of source knows everything about the subject of your article, and isn't afraid to tell you all about it. This source is slightly related to the Blabber in that they tend to talk a lot, but every piece of information could help with your current story and give you ideas for future articles, which is why keeping in contact with this source is a must.
3. The Micro-manager. This is the type of source every journalist tries to avoid dealing with, but sometimes it's just inevitable. This person loves to give you press releases, omit information, backtrack and even tell you what you should and shouldn't put in your story. Keep them as a contact, but only to obtain those precious press releases for a possible story idea or two.
4. The Delayer. This is the type of person who doesn't get back to you in the amount of time you need them to in order to get the information for your story. This person gives you a valuable lesson in keeping multiple stories open, and never assign yourself to just one source. It could spell disaster for you and your publication. This source, however, could make up for it with different sources to interview, so don't cut them to the quick immediately. Keep your options open, but never forget either. Try making appointments with them earlier, too. That helps.
5. The Neglectful Nellie. This is the type of person who never calls you back, never emails you...basically never responds to any communication with you or your publication whatsoever. You would have a better chance at getting a letter from San Francisco to Pittsburgh via the Pony Express than getting information from this contact. Chances are this person is a creature of habit, and they won't talk to you or anyone from your publication because of a bad experience or some other reason. It's better not to heckle them much, because that could hamper any kind of relationship you're trying to build with them. This is why you need multiple sources of multiple types.
I'm sure I'm forgetting a few of the other types of sources out there, but these are just a few I've run into during my time. Have any others you'd like to share? Leave a comment below or share this post and get friends involved! I'm curious to hear your opinion!
Showing posts with label life lessons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life lessons. Show all posts
Friday, November 22, 2013
Friday, November 8, 2013
Fly Through the Air with...Hesitantation: What I Learned from Flying
I have always been interested in airplanes. It’s come from living in Ambridge, Pennsylvania during my early childhood (and returning back frequently - that’s where my Nana lives and she’s the most important family member in my life). It’s roughly 30 minutes away from Pittsburgh, depending on how fast you drive and the traffic in the area. However, the Pittsburgh Airport is fifteen minutes away, so you know we always had planes flying overhead at all hours.
While my fascination with planes never faltered, my reserve to being on one did. It came from several news reports of plane crashes, even one in neighboring Aliquippa (look up USAir Flight 427 - I’m not lying). It faltered even more with the terrorist attacks on 9/11. Flight 93 went down 15 miles from my then home in Johnstown, which is where I still reside today for my post-secondary education.
I never wanted to fly in a plane. I was terrified, as most were, because of everything that had happened. Everything I had was here in the States. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d get an opportunity to go to Europe.
It was with a educational group called People to People International, which is still in business today. I was invited to go based on my academic standing in middle school. As exciting as it was, it was still a huge decision for my parents and me. My mother was against it. I’d be half a world away from her. My father said it would be a wasted opportunity. The final say-so, though, came down to me. Would I fly? Wouldn’t I fly? Would I stay or would I go?
I decided, after thinking it through, that I wanted to go. I did. We were going to six different countries in the time span of three weeks. What other 12-year-old had that opportunity? I decided to do it, and after months of preparation meetings, the day finally came.
I passed security at Pittsburgh International Airport without incident, got to my gate perfectly. It was in that enormous whale-like aircraft taxied to our gate that the butterflies took off in my stomach.
Now, I had been to the airport a couple times before 9/11, back when you could get to the gates without needed a boarding pass or anything. I was never in that makeshift hallway to get to the aircraft, never actually in an aircraft or a simulation of any sort. This was all new, and I won’t lie, it was mildly terrifying.
The flight from Pittsburgh to Atlanta wasn’t bad at all. It was really routine. There wasn’t any turbulence or things of that nature. I was never off the ground before, and it was awesome. The puffs of clouds looked like marshmallows, and I could see several cities below our flight path. It was truly an incredible sight.
The problematic flight was the flight from Atlanta to London/Gatwick. We were supposed to take off at 9:40 p.m., but didn’t actually take off until 10:40 p.m. because of luggage issues. Not only that, but we were crossing an ocean. That was much more daunting than over land.
When we finally took off, it was a flight of a different breed altogether. We were past the mile-high mark. I couldn’t see anything except the occasional light of another aircraft miles away. I couldn’t sleep. I was too nervous. What if the plane crashed while I was sleeping? What would happen when I woke up? The sun began to rise, higher and higher. For the first time, I could see it in it’s entirety. There was nothing obstructing the view.
Finally, at 10:30 a.m. London time, we started landing. On the other flight, I had chewing gum to help ease the cabin pressure in my ears and it helped me from getting sick. This flight? Not so much. I chewed all of it, and I had nothing left. I got off the plane and stayed in a crouched position on the bus that taxied us from the plane to the actual airport. Other than that, I was fine.
The trip was perfect. I got to see things, hear things, and eat things I never would’ve gotten to if I didn’t take that initial risk of flying. Now, I’m gearing up for another big risk: moving all the way across the country in order to make a living for myself. How am I going to get home during holidays? Flying, of course!
The point is, never be afraid to take risks. There are some, yes, where you need to use your common sense and realize it may be a reckless opportunity for you. Certain things aren’t for everyone. I didn’t think flying was for me, and I grew as a person because I flew and because I took the risk of experiencing new things. Follow your head and your heart. If both are in agreement, you can’t go wrong!
While my fascination with planes never faltered, my reserve to being on one did. It came from several news reports of plane crashes, even one in neighboring Aliquippa (look up USAir Flight 427 - I’m not lying). It faltered even more with the terrorist attacks on 9/11. Flight 93 went down 15 miles from my then home in Johnstown, which is where I still reside today for my post-secondary education.
I never wanted to fly in a plane. I was terrified, as most were, because of everything that had happened. Everything I had was here in the States. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d get an opportunity to go to Europe.
It was with a educational group called People to People International, which is still in business today. I was invited to go based on my academic standing in middle school. As exciting as it was, it was still a huge decision for my parents and me. My mother was against it. I’d be half a world away from her. My father said it would be a wasted opportunity. The final say-so, though, came down to me. Would I fly? Wouldn’t I fly? Would I stay or would I go?
I decided, after thinking it through, that I wanted to go. I did. We were going to six different countries in the time span of three weeks. What other 12-year-old had that opportunity? I decided to do it, and after months of preparation meetings, the day finally came.
I passed security at Pittsburgh International Airport without incident, got to my gate perfectly. It was in that enormous whale-like aircraft taxied to our gate that the butterflies took off in my stomach.
Now, I had been to the airport a couple times before 9/11, back when you could get to the gates without needed a boarding pass or anything. I was never in that makeshift hallway to get to the aircraft, never actually in an aircraft or a simulation of any sort. This was all new, and I won’t lie, it was mildly terrifying.
The flight from Pittsburgh to Atlanta wasn’t bad at all. It was really routine. There wasn’t any turbulence or things of that nature. I was never off the ground before, and it was awesome. The puffs of clouds looked like marshmallows, and I could see several cities below our flight path. It was truly an incredible sight.
The problematic flight was the flight from Atlanta to London/Gatwick. We were supposed to take off at 9:40 p.m., but didn’t actually take off until 10:40 p.m. because of luggage issues. Not only that, but we were crossing an ocean. That was much more daunting than over land.
When we finally took off, it was a flight of a different breed altogether. We were past the mile-high mark. I couldn’t see anything except the occasional light of another aircraft miles away. I couldn’t sleep. I was too nervous. What if the plane crashed while I was sleeping? What would happen when I woke up? The sun began to rise, higher and higher. For the first time, I could see it in it’s entirety. There was nothing obstructing the view.
Finally, at 10:30 a.m. London time, we started landing. On the other flight, I had chewing gum to help ease the cabin pressure in my ears and it helped me from getting sick. This flight? Not so much. I chewed all of it, and I had nothing left. I got off the plane and stayed in a crouched position on the bus that taxied us from the plane to the actual airport. Other than that, I was fine.
The trip was perfect. I got to see things, hear things, and eat things I never would’ve gotten to if I didn’t take that initial risk of flying. Now, I’m gearing up for another big risk: moving all the way across the country in order to make a living for myself. How am I going to get home during holidays? Flying, of course!
The point is, never be afraid to take risks. There are some, yes, where you need to use your common sense and realize it may be a reckless opportunity for you. Certain things aren’t for everyone. I didn’t think flying was for me, and I grew as a person because I flew and because I took the risk of experiencing new things. Follow your head and your heart. If both are in agreement, you can’t go wrong!
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