My First Career Lesson: Know When to Ask a Stupid Question
My second internship, outside?the Lexington (Ky.) Herald-Leader, 1995

My First Career Lesson: Know When to Ask a Stupid Question

With summer jobs on the horizon, professionals recall the first jobs that launched their careers. Read more, then write your own #CareerLaunch post.

I was 17, fresh out of high school, feeling completely out of place in a Washington, D.C., newsroom stacked with grizzled editors. It was my first day.

My boss, Reginald Stuart, told me he needed some papers faxed. Seeing as I'd just left the 12th grade about a month before, I'd never had reason to use a fax machine. He handed me the papers and the cover sheet, and continued typing.

"O.K.," I said. "Where's the fax machine, and how do I work it?"

He glanced up briefly. "Ask somebody."

Months earlier I'd won a national competition sponsored by Knight Ridder, a corporation that owned the newspapers including the Detroit Free Press, the Philadelphia Inquirer and the San Jose Mercury News. Along with a much-needed scholarship to help with college costs, I had a guaranteed paid internship every summer, starting with this one. It was a big step up from the summer job I'd had the previous two summers, a day camp counselor for elementary schoolers.

The three other winners that year had internships with their local papers in places like Miami and Lexington, Ky. But KR didn't have a newspaper in the D.C. area, so I would intern at the chain's Washington bureau — the special unit that covered the federal government. Journalists toil for years to earn a slot in a Washington bureau, so starting the greenest of interns there was a little like sending an eager Boy Scout to train with Navy Seals. I was in way over my head.

Ask somebody? I thought. Is he hazing me?

Ask somebody? I thought. Is he hazing me? In retrospect it's clear what was going on. Reggie knew that my internship wasn't going to work — heck, my entire journalism career wasn't going to work — unless I learned to ask questions and fend for myself. The fax machine was just my first exercise in finding an information source, taking notes, and following through. The exercise forced me to meet people in the office, which I found agonizing because they were busy and I was asking really dumb questions. It forced me to get over myself and ask questions of people who were smarter than I was. Perhaps most important, it quickly shook me free of the notion that the working world would hand me step-by-step instructions.

The rest of that summer was equal parts humiliation and exhilaration. Up until that point, I fancied myself a good writer; teachers seldom used the red pen on papers I turned in, especially when I gave them the attention they deserved. Everyone needs editing, of course, but I thought I didn't need much. Wrong.

Reggie assigned me a story about the tax breaks the federal government offered workers to take public transit. I don't remember the details, but there had been a change in the rules. Of course, I did more reading and made more phone calls for that story than I had for anything I'd written for the high school paper. And when I turned in my rough draft? Reggie politely ripped it to shreds. My writing? Bloated. My lead? Trite. Worst of all? The story was boring. After working on the story for a week, I felt like a failure. 

But there were also small moments of triumph. On assignment for Knight Ridder Financial News, I got a temporary Capitol Hill press pass. One of my assignments was to track down Labor Secretary Robert Reich and Treasury Secretary Lloyd Bentsen at committee hearings and call in anything they said about interest rates or the labor market. This required that I carry a reporter's notebook, a micro-cassette recorder, and a pocket full of quarters for the pay phones. I doubt I got many valuable scoops, but I did chase Reich down a hallway at least once, and I called in several tidbits. 

Five years later, I'd finished college and started my journalism career. I'd begun covering local business at the Lexington Herald-Leader, a newspaper where I'd interned twice. I eventually got an offer to join the Wall Street Journal in Washington, D.C. — my home — covering economic indicators and tax law. Working for the Journal had been a specific goal of mine, and the job paid almost twice what I made in Lexington. Then again, my pulse didn't quicken at the mention of economic indicators.

I called up Reggie Stuart. Don't take that job at the Journal, he told me. Interview at a couple of bigger papers in Knight Ridder, like the San Jose Mercury News. It's Silicon Valley's hometown newspaper, and you're really into technology.

He had a point. I interviewed in Silicon Valley, took the job. I still cover tech today.

Above: I interviewed Microsoft CEO Satya Nadella at the company's Redmond, Wash., headquarters in October 2014.

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Stephen Rynkiewicz

Writer Coder Unicorn | Head of Content at Purpose Brand | Business Storyteller

1 年

Reggie Stuart was a smart judge of talent, and a bit mischievous.

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andrew adoyo

friends kids words people you time is because everything home

8 年

l see ok ? me kids friends ? ok

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andrew adoyo

friends kids words people you time is because everything home

8 年

l see ok ? jahajahajha

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magdaline wairagu

Student at kenya methodist university

8 年

hahahahahahahaha

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Jan Georg Bischoff

Leitender Verkaufsberater bei kult

8 年

haha

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