Mirror Miglactic

Blogging- “a hybrid multiple of sources.” A reflective piece
By: Courteney-Jade Gillespie

Faced with the many questions that were presented in this final assignment, I sat down at my computer with more complaints that 1000 words could serve to explain. This is so pointless! What a waste of my time! Are they actually being serious! I AM SO OVER THIS! But then I stopped and looked back on this daunting first year to the rest of my life. I am not a journalist. This short to the point statement is completely different to the hypothesis that I made at the beginning of the year when Mr. Rod Amner gave us our very first journ assignment. I am not a journalist…but I am a writer.

I came to Rhodes with a dream of becoming a journalist. I fought long and hard to get here and now at the end of my first year, I behold a different dream, a dream that is unbeknown to myself at present but I know that journalism is not in my future. I have not applied to second year journalism, not for the fear of an unmanageable work load and rumors of a dwindled social life due to my choice of wanting to major in drama, but due to the fact that I do not like to follow rules when it comes to putting pen to paper, thoughts to words. Thus my choice to rebel in this final assignment rather that complain…

Pen to paper. Thoughts to words.
Come on Courtenèy, this couldn’t be worse.
You took this course, now where to begin?
Two hours later- scrunched paper in the bin.

In the world of journ, this piece is a sin.

So first term came and went my dear, well what you know, it’s the end of the year.
And here I sit writing a blog, with rules and constraints, deadlines, and marks.

First term was easy! Now my heads in a mess!
Stress levels souring! Must do my best!
Think faster! Write it again!
Its 11pm, I must dig in.
Write something good, people read this you know!
Oh my word, my fingers are typing so slow!

Click. Click.
Post on blog. RUconnected.
Who would have thought that being productive would be so hectic?!
YES! I’m on time! WHAT?! So many mistakes?
Could I plead dyslexic?
Do what ever it takes!

A week passes, and what do you know? Another assignment and ten hours to go.
Close my eyes, let my imagination run wild.
Reminding myself of a spoiled-brat child.
So once again I pick up my pen and with ease and a shimmer I let my story begin.
This comes naturally.
Don’t get carried away!
Click. Click.
Post.
No need to boast.

Monday, 4pm, my tut.
Leila looks pretty as usual.
AH YOU GUY!!! I’ll punch you in the gut!!!!
Complain!!!
Complain!!!
That’s all we ever do!
Ai pretty Leila, I feel sorry for you.
Problems sorted.
Students snorted.
Muttered words of contradictions.
Expectations- moving forward!

Grumpily huffing through the AMM- asked to evaluate my ‘personal growth’ on a scale of one to ten.
Let me think?
Is one or ten the best?
Damn these badly explained questions!
I guess here’s the answer that answer they wanted to know…
“Yes, this course allowed Courtenèy-Jadè to grow, meeting deadlines, actually working, doing her best to pass all these ‘tests’.
Posting a blog to prevent a flogging from her group that’s also blogging.
So here is your number, I think it’s a five, thanks to that zero, I should have lied.

I Googled myself, and what came up?
Mirrormiglactic!
My blogs!
Oh what luck!
At least now I can say I have been published in sorts.


A reporter indeed!Journalists take heed!Blogging my friends, is in fact a form of journalism!
YES! TAKE THAT!

I breathe, and pause to regain my thoughts.

I have never really felt at all confined in this course.
I have always written well between the lines.
My marks are great, NO, no filth or lies.
I guess it was ignorance that covered my eyes.

I survived my first year, and there is no going back.
Sadly neither forwards, my bags leaving journ are packed.

I have learned how to research with careful precision, making sure not to plagiarize, that would be a bad decision.
Working with sources- meeting new people.
Telling their stories.
Writing- free.
Letting their words be an expression of journ.
Letting their stories speak to all those who will listen.
Respecting their ethics, the worlds and my own, preventing disaster buy sticking close to home.

And they ask me “did I learn to express my self better in a genre mould?” “ did I experiment?”
Is this writing not bold enough?
Did I refrain on doing what I was told?
This is a game of poker, where I will not fold.


Click. Click.
Post.

Lets hope I pass.
But even if I fail…
I have learned from the JMS1, class of 2008 that not only in chess can you claim,
“CHECK MATE”

Pen to paper. Thoughts to words.
I am not a journalist. But I am a writer.