The Value of a Field Trip
People often say that if you feel a strong connection to a city, it’s because something is waiting for you there. That’s how I feel about Eugene, and the University of Oregon.
When I was sophomore, I attended the School of Journalism and Communications’ Fall Media Day for the first time. It was my first ever time on a college campus and one of few field trips without my parents. It was amazing.
That morning, we got to the campus around nine a.m., and I instantly fell in love. For miles all I could see were historic buildings and the hustle of UO’s students. From the way they looked, I could tell most of them were liberal, or progressives, to an extent. It was the first time I understood that there actually were kids like me out in the world; there were kids who wanted to attend a liberal university and immerse themselves in the arts. I felt wanted, not by anyone in particular, but I could sense that an institution like this was where I belong. In my short time on campus, I unearthed a connection to the university that I’d never felt with anything or anyone before.
I was born and raised in Salem, Oregon and I’ve lived here for the entire 17 years of my life. While it’s my state’s capitol, it’s not a metropolitan mecca like Portland and it lacks the staunch liberalism of Eugene. In fact, in the 2024 presidential election, my county (Marion) voted Republican. So while I’ve not been marginalized for my bisexuality and my exuberant democratic beliefs, self expression has never been easy. I’d never felt comfortable enough to speak out on my values. How could I when even my own father disagreed with my morals?
So when I had the chance to act like a college student for a day and explore the SOJC, I didn’t hold back. I competed in the event’s on-site writing competition centered around the event’s keynote speaker, Heba Kanso. Then I traipsed all across the campus and the college town, almost like I was searching for a part of myself still undiscovered.
After my unauthorized, unsupervised adventures, I marched back into one of the EMU’s ballrooms to hopefully hear my name called for an award. In the aforementioned on-site competition, I wrote a feature piece about Kanso’s success as an overseas correspondent for the Middle East. It was the first time I had ever used the word "prevalence" in an article, so I had high hopes I could bring home some honor.
While I sat and waited, I racked my brain about every sentence I wrote and what I should’ve done instead. This was a habit of mine, overthinking my work and feeling insufficient about my final production – I still get this way from time to time, but I’ve built up my confidence.
But instead of that, all I could come up with is the thrill I felt. For the first time in my life, I had been away from home around like-minded kids participating in activities that I enjoyed. Still waiting for the OJEA members to finish their introduction to the award ceremony, I knew that whether I won anything at all that day, I was going to go home and research the University of Oregon. Not that I could apply yet – I was still 15 – but I wanted to stay connected to my safe haven. I couldn’t bear to lose the first resemblance of an actual future I had ever had.
Eventually my crazed thinking stopped, when OJEA Director Glenn Krake began announcing awards. I had chills when he said I won an “Honorable Mention” for my Kanso feature. While in retrospect that award is small and holds little to no weight on a resume, it means oodles to me emotionally.
Walking out of that ballroom, I felt like I had just grown as a person. I had just won my first big award in a competition against hundreds of other kids. I realized that with as little experience as I had, if I could place now, imagine what I can accomplish if I stick with this. What if I dedicate myself to improving my craft, what could happen?
Boarding onto our shuttle bus back to South Salem, I brewed no less than a million questions about my journalistic future. But while I had all the questions in the world, I did know one thing: I would become a real journalist.
The success and pride I felt after Fall Media Day carried me through the remainder of my sophomore year, it kept me motivated to continue writing and publish my writing as often as I could. To look at myself now, I’ve served as the EIC for both factions of my school’s journalism program – the newspaper and the yearbook – for two years. In that time, I’ve also been named to Oregon’s First Team All-State Journalism team. In these important roles, I’ve grown exponentially as a journalist and as a person.
I’ve taken away that no one can invalidate my words, my opinions or my writing. I now understand that just because I live in a “red” area, it doesn’t mean I have to hide how I feel. I am proud to report on the negative effects of guns and the downside of our government.
Student media has taught me to be ruthless in the pursuit of truth, whether it be personally or journalistic. I am young and ambitious, and I know I have nothing to lose when I make the choice to address controversy.
Everyday I remind myself of that, and I continue to write. The world needs journalism and I feel so honored to take on this civic duty.