Major Stressing: How Journalism Became My Destiny
by Tracey Chang

How to Choose Your Major
How I Became a Psych Major
How I Became a Photography Major
How Journalism Became My Destiny
Two Majors, With a Minor on the Side

"Just be patient," people would tell me. "The answer will come when the time is right." The words always went in one ear and out the other — but I have to admit, those people had a point.

I can't exactly place my finger on what made me want to be a journalist. When I started high school, I wasn't one of those people who joined a slew of clubs, hoping I'd one day have an epiphany that pointed me down a specific path. I didn't have a clue — we rarely do at that age — so I just did what I enjoyed. And what I thoroughly enjoyed was writing.

I wrote for my school's paper in high school, and from there eased into the role of editor-in-chief of the yearbook my senior year. I knew I loved to write, and it turned out to be just as fun to pick out graphics and edit others' writing. I realized the gratification I felt through communicating and connecting with people, working with and supervising others, and — more than anything — seeing an entire publication come together under my watch. It helped me come to the conclusion that, whatever I ended up doing in college, I wanted to create something while doing it.

So when I moved to New York City two years ago to begin my college career, I looked forward to a plethora of opportunities. I knew the city was a budding journalist's dream world. It's the nation's hub of mainstream magazines and publications, and I couldn't wait to submit intern applications to all of them. I wanted to get my core requirements out of the way as quickly as possible so I could delve into my communications courses. And, above everything else, I felt lucky to have a sense of direction, seeing how many of my peers were still struggling to find their own paths.

But I also found that just as many of my peers had the same strong sense of direction as I — just not in the same field. Some of my best friends were confident premeds, math majors, business wizards and highly intelligent philosophers, which suddenly made me question whether my field of choice was prestigious or challenging enough. I started to feel like I wasn't on the same level as the rest of them. In the spring semester of my freshman year, I started to wonder if I had made a bad move. Had I gone down an entirely wrong path?

It didn't help much that one of my required communications classes in the beginning of my sophomore year went really poorly. Granted, I shouldn't have expected enlightenment from an introductory course, but each time I went to that class it was one bad experience after another. Despite investing so much time and energy into it, I didn't learn much and didn't even get a good grade, which in turn just discouraged me even more. I could feel my confidence slipping through my fingers.

I was so discouraged by my apparent lack of ability and intellect that I almost dropped my plans to pursue journalism right there. Other people in the class said they felt the same frustration, and that it was because the professor was just incompetent, but I still doubted myself. All I kept thinking was, "Is this what my life is going to be like for the next three years? Please let the answer be no."

But I told myself to stick with it. The more I thought about it, the more I realized there was nothing else in the world that I loved more than journalism and the thrill that came with it. I kept remembering the satisfaction I got out of completing a carefully crafted article that I'd slaved over for weeks, the contentment I felt reading a piece that had been edited so smoothly it was like a polished gem.

I also finally saw that, during all those times of doubt, I'd been desperately looking to pursue something that other people would accept. I lost sight of the most important person in the situation: me. So, despite mistakenly convincing myself that everyone around me was of a "higher" intellect, despite one sour experience with a wretched professor, despite my doubts that I'd actually be successful, I made my decision. This past spring I formally declared my communications major, and though I hated the thought of doing something so "drastic" as to declare, I knew the time had come to take a stand.

After declaring, I started taking courses that reassured me I'd made the right decision. My writing courses required thinking and reporting, and I slowly picked up the key traits a skilled journalist needs. I also started working part-time for a radio station in the area, where I interviewed, wrote news, cut sound bytes and eventually broadcasted on-air.

Both in my classes and at the radio station, I knew I was being taught by and working with some of the best professionals in the field. Though they constantly critiqued me and made me try and try again until I got the concepts right, I knew I was experiencing hands-on what had only been a figment of my imagination a year earlier. The invaluable lessons I continue to learn and the experiences I take in each day are a constant reminder that I couldn't have chosen anything else that felt so right.

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How to Choose Your Major
How I Became a Psych Major
How I Became a Photography Major
How Journalism Became My Destiny
Two Majors, With a Minor on the Side

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