That year

That year, I was working on a factory line right out of school, and in 365 days I wrote 101 letters.

Fifty-two were addressed to her, 37 to the provincial press, 11 to former classmates, and only one to her family.

She is my professional lover, she was admitted to the university, 52 letters finally did not save her leave. Newspapers and magazines are bought by me with tight belts, painstaking efforts, 37 hopes, 37 disappointments. 11 letters from my first best friends, none of whom I have contact with today.

On the last day of the year, I wrote a letter home to the effect that I should not worry my family. I did not expect to receive a reply soon. The letter was written by my neighbor's little sister and sent by my father after ten miles. There was only one sentence in the letter: Baby, go home when you are tired outside. Signed off: Parents.

In that dark day, when I was almost decadent to the extreme, I still can't imagine without that letter, without that sentence, what I would be like today.

Just entered the station, an experienced reporter said to me: "internship, the most important thing is to find out what the occupation needs, what to learn, understand these two issues, your internship purpose is also achieved."

Being a journalist has been my dream since childhood. At that time, I just felt that it was very dignified and honorable to speak in front of the camera with a microphone and let countless people hear my voice. When I was older, I had a little understanding of the connotation of being a journalist, as an uncrowned king and a mouthpiece of the masses, so I longed for this career more. In college, I chose journalism as my major. I remember that in the first professional course, the young teacher said, "Journalists are tired of running around, but helping people to understand the truth is a great relief. Only when you realize this will you have the passion to engage in this industry." I sat up straight and had a sense of mission -- to be a journalist to help the world see the truth.

After a year in college, I had no interest in such theoretical knowledge as boring introductory journalism. During the summer vacation, my family got me an internship at a local TV station through some connections, so that I could develop my interest in practice. Just entered the station, an experienced reporter said to me: "internship, the most important thing is to find out what the occupation needs, what to learn, understand these two issues, your internship purpose is also achieved." I look forward to following the reporters out with full curiosity and joy.

The first trip was with two older journalists to a flooded village in the county seat. Due to the shortage of cars in the station, we took a ride by ourselves and had to transfer to a minibus. It was a bumpy ride and it took us more than two hours to get to the interview site. Then the camera reporters started shooting footage, and the reporters went around to learn about the disaster, interviewing village officials and affected villagers. I followed around passing the microphone, carrying the camera bag, making some notes. After most of the day I felt hungry, tired, and hot, and uncomfortable, and by the time I got back it was almost dusk. When I got home, I shouted, "First day of internship is hard!" Then he fell back on the sofa, not wanting to move, but thinking to himself, "Be careful not to go to such a place next time."

Since most of the interview tasks were arranged in advance and written on the small blackboard in the office, I looked at them the next day and found that most of them had been sent to the disaster area. Only Sister Yan was sent to the tax bureau in the city. I made up my mind: "I will go out with Sister Yan today." So when everyone was ready to go, I chatted up Sister Yan, "Take me to study today." Sister Yan readily agreed.

As expected, this visit was very relaxing. Not only did I not have to sit in the sun, but I was treated to eat fruit and drink cold drinks in the air-conditioned room. I only heard Sister Yan talking to the bureau leaders about the tax situation. At noon, I enjoyed an expensive meal at a luxury restaurant. Bureau leadership is really everything, and finally sent a special car to send us back to Taiwan, very comfortable. I secretly proud of his "wisdom" : "Think of the other interns must be crying now."

Sister Yan told me that she had been working on a special topic about taxation for the past two months. It was a series of reports with the nature of advertising, so she had to go to the tax bureau. I was delighted, blurted out: "That's good, I will be with you!

At the end of the internship, Sister Yan, who had been familiar with me, wrote a few words on my internship evaluation form, such as "I worked hard during the internship, diligent and studious", and so on. I had no problem putting it in my bag.

Soon after an editing class, the teacher let us go to the computer room to do practical operation. A classmate came to ask me a basic question about nonlinear editing: "You must have had contact with this machine during your internship, please guide me." I was stunned and could only say: "I... I don't know." Forget the machine. It's just a little camera that I'm not sure I can handle.

I remembered what the veteran journalist had told me: The most important thing about internships is to find out what the profession entails and what you need to learn. What does this career require? What am I going to learn? What can I do? A series of question marks hit my forehead like little hammers. It dawned on me that I couldn't give myself an answer to any of the questions. I didn't understand anything, and I was complacent. I got nothing out of the whole internship, which resulted from my ignorance, laziness and blindness.

Opportunities only have meaning in the hands of a willing heart, and my absent-minded attitude made this rare opportunity to exercise worthless. Only hope that now the awakening will be the seed of numbness and ignorance from my heart completely removed.