It’s good to be back at school, isn’t it? I missed overhearing how trashed so-and-so got last night and seeing various sorority sisters run into each other’s arms, embrace, then start bawling because they haven’t seen each other “FOREVER!!!,” and finally, make everyone around them gag.

In all seriousness, I am very excited to be back at school. I feel like a new person. That’s what a summer in the “real world” will do to you. Yes; this summer, I got a savoring taste of what it would be like to be a full-time reporter.

I was fortunate enough to land an internship at the Mattoon Journal Gazette and the Charleston Times-Courier newspapers for the summer.

This summer was the first time I have ever worked full time in my life. And it was hard, but it was definitely rewarding. Not only did I gain reporting experience, I learned the actual task of reporting was easy compared to some other hurdles I had to jump over on the job.

During my first week on the job, I asked Carl Walworth, now the Journal Gazette/ Times-Courier publisher and editor, an average of 50 questions per hour. And although he never showed the slightest bit of annoyance, I soon figured out he was very busy with other things and didnot need me bugging him extensively.

So I finally got somewhat comfortable with the reporting part of the job and achieved more and more journalistic independence. However, I soon learned reporting was not even half the battle with this job.

Soon came the old guys with thinly veiled sexual innuendoes and comments.

I had to cover a Memorial Day service, and these old men I had to interview said things to me I can’t repeat, things that would make you shiver in disgust or laugh, depending on your personality and sense of the vulgar.

While they were saying these degrading things and laughing, I just stood there. What am I supposed to say? I just bolted out of there as quickly as I could.

After talking extensively with my family and my boyfriend, I soon realized a few things I just had to do for myself now. I couldn’t say, “Dad! Those guys are being mean to me!” or “Jordan! (my boyfriend) Tell me what I should say next time that happens.” I was an adult; it was time to stand up for myself.

The next unwanted pass came via a supposed “family man,” someone well known and respected within the community. And after he said something incredibly stupid about my appearance, I just gave him this look as if to say, “OK. You’re just gross.” I didn’t say anything, as I wanted to maintain a level of professional courtesy, but I made a promise to myself that the next time a crude comment came my way, I would definitely make a point to say something. But the look I gave him was definitely a step in the right direction.

Soon after I devised a plan to ward off the sexually charged men, another problem came my way.

I started to receive hate mail attacking my news judgment and ability. One man wrote to me saying my feature stories on local exchange students stirred ethnocentrism amongst readers.

The Journal Gazette also received a letter from an angry 4-H mother because I misquoted her daughter, who had won an award during the Coles County Fair a few days prior to the story. A letter also came in from an escaped felon, whom I, along with another reporter, wrote an article about. The 19-year-old man said it wasn’t fair I didn’t write separate stories on his friends who were drunk, like this man was. But this man failed to realize his friends complied with law authorities and opted not to dart into a corn field away from police like he did, thus resulting in his time in prison.

Once again, I realized I had to stand up on my own two feet and act for myself. Normally, I cannot take criticism well; to be perfectly honest, I’m a perfectionist. And although the other Journal Gazette staff members were behind me and my reporting abilities 100 percent, it was only me who had to face the music. Only I could decide how to take each judgment. I decided to, of course, pay more attention to detail in my stories and do my best to avoid mistakes of any kind, but I did stop to laugh at how ridiculous some people can be.

Instead of constantly worrying about how other people will perceive my writing, I believe I am now mature enough to stand firm in my opinions but still accept criticism professionally.

Even though I faced the above-mentioned scenarios as a reporter, situations like the ones I faced occur in all of our lives. We all can’t hide behind our parents or others whom we hold dear forever. The time comes in each of our lives where we must take responsibilityfor our own actions.

So although I’m not entirely independent yet, my summer in the real world taught me if worse comes to worse, as it often does, I can always rely on myself.