SPJ Conference Reflection

Today, I went to a conference for the SPJ (Society of Professional Journalists). It was pretty amazing. Here's what I wrote about it for class:

Inspired. That’s how I felt after listening to Jack Hart and Anna Griffin. I was inspired to write again. I wanted to explore the narrative and make every piece I write matter.

Since moving to Eugene this summer, I’ve become busy. I’m busy with work, my internship, and class work. It’s my life. It’s busy. And somehow I’ve become lazy in my writing. I get it done on time, I write the essentials, but my heart hasn’t been in it. I’m not writing the sort of work that I, myself, feel proud of. Instead, I am turning in mediocre versions of Sharece’s writing. Maybe I’m over-thinking my writing too much. It might be okay, but if I’m not satisfied, it’s highly likely that someone else who reads it may feel the same way.

When I sat in room 221 and listened to Hart and Griffin share their tales of finding story, I remembered why I came to the University of Oregon. I want to write. And although I continue to blog in true “Sharece style,” my reporting stories have lacked some of my voice. This is my new initiative. I will write like me again.

During the lunch break, after eating a few pieces of pizza, I approached Hart and his assistant at his table of books. He was eating a piece of pepperoni pizza. When he saw me, he set down the half piece of pizza and began to wipe his hands on his napkin. “You probably don’t want pizza grease on your new book, right?” A strange laugh came out of my mouth. I showed him my nametag for proper spelling of my name. After writing, “To Sharece,” he stopped. “So, Sharece,” he asked, “where are you going with your career?” I was dumbfounded. This is the question I’ve been trying to figure out since starting graduate school on June 22nd of this year. Just where exactly am I headed? The truth is: I’m not sure. I came here knowing that I want to write and edit. I wanted to become a better writer and to learn the skills needed to edit a magazine in Seattle. But since arriving here, I have realized that there is no definite path for me. My life is ever changing, ever evolving. I truly believe that I will do something amazing. I may not win a Pulitzer Prize or another fancy award, but I will do something great. This may be as small as volunteering to help kids learn to read or writing an article that impacts one person. Whatever it is, I think I’ll be okay. And although I’m pretty sure Jack Hart thought I was a bumbling idiot after our small chat at his book table, that short conversation helped me recommit to my writing.