Internship from hell

So you think you have seen a bad internship? I am sure this story can top yours! 

There is a reason why I have been keeping away from journalism for a whole year. And now, as I am about to start my new internship tomorrow, all the events of the last one are rushing back.
It was a three week arranged work placement at Nine Lives Media last year, a TV production company based in Manchester. You might know them from such programmes as Dispatches, or Panorama. Sounds exciting, doesn't it?

That's what I thought initially too. As soon as I walked in the office, I introduced myself to another intern, who then told me her experience with the office, as she had been there for a week already. Turns out she had been doing nothing but logging all week, that is documenting every single word said and every single camera move of hours and hours long tape. What is more, noone had made any contact with her for 4 days, only giving her a shout when someone wanted a coffee or some lunch delivered.
Obvioulsy, I saw that as a warning instantly. I made a lot of effort to be pro-active and engage with the Dispatches people, which got me doing some exciting research for an undercover story.

However, it seemed that my supervisor was not on board with it. It was important to note that there was a clear divide and lack of communication in the office between the 'current affairs' and 'management' sides. My supervisor was the 'management'. I wanted to work in 'current affairs'. Shouldn't be a problem for an unpaid intern as long as I am doing something, right? Well, my supervisor approached me very early in the day and made it extremely clear that I am not to do anything else, but logging and making tea as ''it is the job''. She piled hours and hours of tape on my desk and left.

Making coffees and teas is not easy for an office of 20 people. It means walking around with an order pad (yes, they give you one) and writing down how they like their coffee. It means carrying a huge tray of hot beverages up the stairs like a waitress, and, yes, it means hearing complaints about how I made their coffee wrong. And that alone took me about 2 hours every day. I felt like a waitress in a shitty cafe, not a journalist in training. And yet I did it, as we all do.

The whole week passed making coffees and logging. On Friday evening, Cat Lewis, the owner of the business called me into her office for a chat. Indeed I didn't know what to expect, because I had been working my ass off for them. I got up every morning at 5.50am to go to Manchester, and was one of the last ones to leave. I didn't take lunchbreaks, instead I did some reasearch for Dispatches during that time, and the team was very pleased with me. A job that usually takes 2 days, I did in one.

However, this was not a good talk. Cat had called me in to tell me off for not making enough coffees and teas. Despite the fact that I was extremely polite and tried to explain I was there to learn journalism, and not waitressing skills, she shushed me with a "there shouldn't be a conversation here, I tell you, and you do it. Making coffees is your job". She then called me a "baby", "nothing but a nuisance", a "nobody" and that the least thing I could do to ease their suffering was to make them teas and nothing else. With my boss rising her voice at me like that, I naturally became very upset, and this is probably the worst part of the story, I started to cry and ran out of the office.
My boss was not only extremely unprofessional, but also unfair and disrespectful. She obviously had no idea as to how much help I was to the 'current affairs' team, and she suggested I don't come back on Monday.

What did I do?
After non-stop crying for 3 hours and mental breakdown, I decided not to give that bitch the pleasure of seeing me leave. No, no, no. I came back on Monday with a huge smile on my face, and a cake (it was one of those cakes with an occasional hair in it from Aldi). And I went round the office every hour to ask if someone wanted a coffee. Did I spit in it? Maybe :)
For the next two weeks, I kept up the scary, creepy friendliness towards the 'management' , completely disregarded any tasks they gave me and let the logging tapes rot on my desk. Instead I focused on 'current affairs', not giving a fuck of what the 'management' thinks about it. At the end, I left with great contacts and three glorious references all thanks to wonderful people in 'current affairs'.

However, I am still nervous as to what tomorrow will bring. If it is another Cat Lewis, I might choose another profession. Fingers crossed!

If you had a worse experience than mine, and you want to bitch about it, please e-mail me at vitnija@live.com or even better, start a blog.