Tracking the Elusive Internship Frustrated in Philly
by Brian Vastag
(Posted June 12, 1998 · Issue 32)
Abstract
Of the many ways to break into science journalism, internships remain
popular. Many science writers start their careers by spending a few months
at a journal, magazine, or newspaper, or in government or corporate public
relations. Science, Science News, and major newspapers with
healthy science sections like the Dallas Morning News are plums in
this growing crop of internships. At the last American Association for the
Advancement of Science annual meeting, one writer discovered the route to a
top-tier internship requires persistence - and comfortable shoes.
By Monday, some of the writers at the convention look strung out. After five
days of news-digging coupled with four nights of revelry, people are at less
than peak performance. One freelancer slumps into a chair in the pressroom,
gulps some coffee, and says, "It's Monday morning, right? I better
straighten out - I need to go interview Justice Breyer." The night
before, the National Association of Science
Writers had hosted a bash that lasted into the wee hours at a
Philadelphia bar. Many of the partygoers reinforced Hunter S. Thompson's
maxim: plenty of journalists like to drink plenty.
But the nine of us, science journalism students from Texas A&M
University, weren't in Philadelphia just to drink and be merry. We went to
meet the science writers we often study and sometimes emulate, to watch
top-name scientists and quick-prose journalists break science news. We went
to connect, plug in, and generate word about the newcomer: A&M's
science journalism program.
For years, a network of former students from the University of California at
Santa Cruz has consistently locked up the tasty internships and top
entry-level jobs. Santa Cruz's Science Communication program
keeps producing top reporters, reinforcing the reputation. But for all their
visibility and networking power, our Master of Science
Degree Program in Science and Technology Journalism has some
advantages. We have a two-year master's program; they have a yearlong certificate plan.
Our program provides rounded exposure to journalism skills and issues, as
well as training in science communications research;
theirs has been described as a long editing workshop. One of their graduates
said the UCSC program left gaps - especially in research and interviewing
skills - that left her less than completely prepared for her first job.
Plus, no one in our program freaks out. "We end up competing with each
other for internships and jobs, but at the same time we become horribly
dependent on one another," one of the Santa Cruz students told me.
"It makes us all twisted."
Her comments jacked up our desire to challenge the banana slugs' supremacy. But
what to do?
We needed to land a top internship and spread word that there is more to
Texas than stereotyped southerners and Oprah beef trials. As I was a
finalist for the summer science section job at the Dallas Morning
News, a top-tier internship, everyone was rooting for me. It would boost
our program, nicely complementing the work of our other students: full-time
research reporter at A&M, editor in chief at our daily campus paper,
internships at Fermilab and the Space Telescope Sciences Institute. And
pulling off a College Station-Philadelphia-Dallas triangulation into the
Morning News internship would launch my fledgling career as well. I
wanted that internship.
Trying to land it required comfortable shoes. For three days, starting on
Thursday, Morning News science savant Tom Siegfried told me to find
him. So between workshops and sessions I canvassed the pressroom and the
filing room, the lobby and the bar, looking for Tom. Where's Tom-O? Wait -
is that him on the escalator? No - someone's seen him schmoozing with the
flacks. There he is, yakking with his writers. Listen and learn - now he's
angling a story, now he's sourcing some leads! Ok, yes, sure, I say. I'll
find you tomorrow around three.
Three o'clock Friday: I find Tom without trouble, this time in the hallway
outside the pressroom, on the phone. I've met one of the other finalists -
she's from Santa Cruz - and Tom laughs when I tell him I won't hold it
against her. Down in the crowded hotel lobby, we find two empty chairs and
pull them together, our backs to the teenagers making out on a couch. He
asks me all the questions he didn't ask during the first interview: What
stories do you want to write? Whom would you use as sources? Where would
you look for story ideas? What are you most looking forward to? What will be
the biggest challenge? What have you learned here?
I tell him I want to write about behavior research and genetics, human
evolution, and archaeology. I tell him that space science is exciting, that
social science needs more coverage. I tell him that my conference mentor, a
reporter from Science News, piqued
my interest in chemistry and materials science. I tell him that the thin,
flexible line between PR and journalism distresses me. I let him know I
expect my writing and reporting to improve; that working with four talented
science and medicine writers would be an amazing opportunity. I tell him I
want that opportunity.
He tells me to find him tomorrow.
On Saturday I'm busy covering sessions on electronic publishing and the
evolution of the human family. Each lasts three hours, sandwiched around a
sandwich with my advisor, Barbara Gastel. Midway through the afternoon session,
after a colleague of Jane Goodall's describes the remarkable emotional
similarities between chimp groups and human families (see Monkey Ties: What Primates Tell Us About Families, an HMS Beagle Meeting Brief), I hunt for Tom again,
the third time today. He's not in the pressroom, the filing room, or the PR
room. He's not in the bar, not in the lobby. I call his room and leave a
message, then return to the primate-fest.
The session ends after six, and I hurriedly exchange contact information
with two researchers I want to use as sources. I realize the NASW
awards/mass-congratulation banquet starts in under an hour. It's too late to
find Tom. I feel nervous. He told me to find him. I didn't.
Thinking about chimp mothering styles and Tom Siegfried, I check my email,
hoping to find a story assignment from the editor of ScienceNOW, the daily Webzine of the
American Association for the Advancement of
Science. Instead, I get: "Brian, I looked for you today. I'm sorry
to say I've decided on another applicant. Tom."
Sunday I find Tom.
Paranoid that he chose the other because she found him, I ask what the last
iota of difference was. He stammers around, intermittently mumbling and
talking about what a tough decision he had, how I would have gotten the
internship any other year, how each applicant had strengths in different
areas. Thoroughly unsatisfied with his nonanswer, I end the conversation
with a cheerful, "We'll bump into each other again." He breaks a
smile and says, "I know."
My freshly honed reporter's instincts hound me to dig around and find out
what's going on. Politics? Something more nefarious? I envision tracing his
ex-employers, badgering his current employees, calling his wife and
children, profiling him all the while, finding out what factor X led him to
choose a potentially twisted banana slug over me. A few drinks later I ditch
the J. Edgar-style background-check scheme. There's a better, less neurotic
way: I'll make Tom wish he had picked me. I've got other stories to write.
Brian Vastag is a freelance science writer finishing a master's degree in science and technology journalism at Texas A&M University.
Send us your comments and ideas for future articles.
Endlinks
National Association of Science Writers -
includes a list of internships. You must be member to access the list, but
the NASW has discounted student rates to only $15 per year. Information
about how to join is available on the NASW homepage.
The Dallas
Morning News - Discoveries
- the Monday science section at the Dallas Morning News features
columns by Tom Siegfried, and starting this summer, articles by his new
intern.
For years, a network of former students from the University of California at
Santa Cruz has consistently locked up the tasty internships and top
entry-level jobs. Santa Cruz's Science Communication program
keeps producing top reporters, reinforcing the reputation. But for all their
visibility and networking power, our Master of Science
Degree Program in Science and Technology Journalism has some
advantages. We have a two-year master's program; they have a yearlong certificate plan.
Our program provides rounded exposure to journalism skills and issues, as
well as training in science communications research;
theirs has been described as a long editing workshop. One of their graduates
said the UCSC program left gaps - especially in research and interviewing
skills - that left her less than completely prepared for her first job. 
We needed to land a top internship and spread word that there is more to
Texas than stereotyped southerners and Oprah beef trials. As I was a
finalist for the summer science section job at the Dallas Morning
News, a top-tier internship, everyone was rooting for me. It would boost
our program, nicely complementing the work of our other students: full-time
research reporter at A&M, editor in chief at our daily campus paper,
internships at 
I tell him I want to write about behavior research and genetics, human
evolution, and archaeology. I tell him that space science is exciting, that
social science needs more coverage. I tell him that my conference mentor, a
reporter from 
Paranoid that he chose the other because she found him, I ask what the last
iota of difference was. He stammers around, intermittently mumbling and
talking about what a tough decision he had, how I would have gotten the
internship any other year, how each applicant had strengths in different
areas. Thoroughly unsatisfied with his nonanswer, I end the conversation
with a cheerful, "We'll bump into each other again." He breaks a
smile and says, "I know."
