Last year, I was among them. This year, with an added year of experience and cynicism, I’m feeling cautiously optimistic. And, no doubt, there will be many worried students out there, wondering if their three years (or more) of study were worth it.

Here’s my advice: stick around and clear up the mess.

In an interview for Journalism.co.uk recently, I described how the job market has changed in the past year. In 2008, we were well aware that competition was tough. Reporters jobs were extremely thin on the ground. One position I applied for — on a smallish London newspaper — had, the editor told me, nearly 1000 applicants.

But now there isn’t any competition. There isn’t anything to compete over. Newspapers are getting rid, chopping down and slicing up. The reporter that left last week isn’t being replaced.

So what do journalism students do? Give up? Get a job in PR? Get a job in Sainsbury’s?

Maybe — if that’s what it takes. But here’s the crucial tip: whatever you do, stay close to journalism.

So what if there aren’t any full-time reporting roles on newspapers. Are the pages empty? No! They’re still full of words, pictures, stories. All of which are — until Murdoch invents some sort of Churnobot — written by humans. You’ll struggle with local newspapers, they don’t have much of a budget, but you could have better luck elsewhere. On the web, in the nationals — they all need writers.

So if you need to work at Sainsbury’s — do it. Work lates. Get a job in a pub.

Just spend your day being a journalist. Get shifts, even if it’s one day a week. Apply for anything that’s remotely near to a newsroom. Work on the reception if you have to.

You need to make sure you’re in the industry when it’s back on the way up.

It’s a sad day — Press Gazette has been a part of many a journalist’s career, from the Grey Cardigan column keeping the old-timers happy, to the Knowledge section showing newcomers the way to go.

I’m proud to say I contributed plenty to the magazine. First, as student on work experience. Being on the newsdesk of what was already a shrinking staff gave me plenty of opportunities. And as I wrote up notes on the train home I realised that I was improving as a journalist with every day I spent there.

There were signs of discontent when I was on my placement. While looking through the paper archives, I was struck by how the print product had evolved in such a short time. Gone was the slick, filled-to-the-brim magazine that screamed “finger” and “pulse” at you. In its place had arrived a cheap-feeling, awkward publication that resembled an internal staff newsletter.

I was told, way back in 2007, that the British Press Awards — the magazine’s big event of the year — was what was keeping PG alive and well. Well, alive at least. It was a real money spinner. Should the awards go, then the magazine would almost certainly go with it. It’s no coincidnce that the Awards happened last week. One last hurrah.

I made some great contacts. Martin Stabe, the then online editor (who is now at Retail Week), gave me what was essentially my first big break by linking to my site from his widely read blog. I repayed this favour by calling him Michael. D’oh. Martin managed to hook me up as the magazine’s Student Journalism blogger — my first regular paid gig.

After university, Martin gave me my second big break, putting me in touch with Nick Reynolds at the BBC. That contact led to my current job on the BBC Internet Blog. I hope and believe that if I play my cards right, I could well end up working for the BBC for the rest of my life.

There’s no doubt that I wouldn’t be in the position I am now without the help of Martin and Press Gazette.

But in more recent times, my relationship with the magazine has been seriously tarnished.

Fast forward from 2007 to last summer. After a month or so of unemployed panic, I was excited to learn that Press Gazette were hiring a reporter. Brilliant news for me — I knew most of the staff, knew the beat, had the skills and even the contacts.

Encouragingly, two members of staff emailed to suggest  I go ahead and apply.

I was confident. In reality, I should have been sceptical. The position I was filling was that of Patrick Smith — who grabbed a great spot on PaidContent. They needed a replacement, or so I thought.

I’d decided I didn’t want the job about five minutes into the interview. I was told that they didn’t actually know if they were hiring anyone. What they’d prefer to do was extend the hours of an existing member of staff from three days (if I remember correctly) to five days. Fair enough — although it would have been a good idea to work their budgets out before advertising for a full time reporter.

But I could let that go detail go. What I couldn’t let go was what happened next. I was offered another placement — maybe (yes, maybe) with expenses. Incredibly insulting — I’d gone from applying for a job to being offered some work experience. To quote a tabloid sensation who is no longer with us: “‘Ave I got ‘MUG’ written on my ‘ead?”

I didn’t. I turned down the placement (or rather, scooted around the offer) and said I was interested in the paid position, thanks. They said they’d let me know.

Weeks passed, and nothing. Nothing until the leaving do of Patrick, which I was invited along to. On the day of his departure, I got a call at about half five letting me know I didn’t get the job. I’m guessing the editor suddenly realised it would be a good idea to tell me before I went to to the pub. After all, everyone there would be congratulating the successful applicant. Or rather, the reporter who got two extra days a week.

I wonder how long it would have taken had I not gone to wish Patrick well?

But that’s besides the point. What that whole furore told me about Press Gazette is that it was a publication in complete disarray. My experiences were just one part of a big mess that started from the very top and tumbled down. It was a publication that lacked direction, ideas and, crucially, money. As a freelance, I’ve waited over 8 months to be paid by them, contiually emailing and ringing to get it sorted out. Only to learn the best way to deal with the unprofessionalism (of their accounts, not the journalists) was to have a great old rant on Twitter.

A great shame. Journalism needs publications like Press Gazette, but long gone are the days where it had any real drive or clout. MediaGuardian, big in budget, has flattened it into a mere pancake of irrelevance.

Is it risky to have the dominant media publication tied to a newspaper? Probably, but MediaGuardian still reports discontent at the Guardian Media Group, so, on the surface at least, it seems to be ok. And if not, bloggers and other sites can make up the gap.

Maybe Press Gazette will rise up from the dead like it has done in the past — but I don’t see it. This collapse goes well beyond the credit crunch. A magazine that I held in very high regard has fallen from a once great height, leaving me with a very bitter taste in my mouth.

The journalists at PG only found out of the closure today too. Not surprising — given my experience there. I wish them all the very best of luck finding other work — when you look at the size of the staff, to put out that much good content was an amazing effort, and they all deserve to be better paid and appreciated.

There’ll be coos of nostalgia for Press Gazette in the press for the next few days, but, with tinges of regret, it really is time to let it go. They say the website will remain, but I think we all know it’ll just be the job site and little else. Roy Greenslade has put out this plea for a buyer — but I don’t think any publishers will touch it.

Knowing Paul’s area of expertise — social media, web 2.0 and how it all rolls up into one tasty journalism package — I was curious to see how he taught his craft.

Not that I doubted his abilities as a tutor or anything — more that sometimes I feel a lot of social media is unteachable. In the same way that if someone keeps insisting you watch a film, or listen to an album, you somehow start to get fed up of being told how to spend your leisure time.

You have to ignite a bit of interest.

Before I would come up with lots of philosophical ways of telling people why Twitter is the canine’s crackers (“You can connect with conversations and communities all over the world” …blergh), I’m beginning to think that maybe gimmick-y ideas are in fact better to at least get people started. If nothing else, a nice gimmick will remove the chore element of converting someone.

Twitter isn’t a gimmick, but gimmicks keep someone entertained. Allowing them to discover the real power of Twitter… engaging with like-minded— you get the picture. So here we go:

10 things to change your mind about Twitter

1. You’ll know about stuff before everyone else does. There’s nothing quite like breaking news, is there? BreakingNewsOn is so quick it makes you wonder if they’re not watching our every move. Scary.

2. You can use it to find out what people think… about anything. Are you a PR? Search for your clients products and see how they’re getting on. If you represent Nike, it may be motivating to know that people generally like your brand. If people hate your product, maybe you can’t afford to ignore them.

3. You can find people who like what you do. Got a hobby? Find others that have that hobby too. That not good enough for you? Find people with your hobby…  near where you live.

4. You can use it to get help. Technical problem? Tweet it. You’ll be surprised at how quickly you’ll get an answer.

5. It can transform your career. Think of five places you’d like to work. And then think of the people who have the power to make that happen. Wouldn’t you love to get them in a room to hear what you have to say? Well hurry up — follow them and get talking. It works.

6. You can campaign for good. Yes, it’s a bit cheesy, but Twitter is fast becoming the most effective word-of-mouth tool in the world. With one simple ‘re-tweet’ (that’s someone copying your message), your ideas could be exposed to thousands. How about @twitchhiker, going around the world using Twitter contacts and very little else. Or TwitterTitters, using Twitter to create a funny book for Comic Relief?

7. You can talk directly to people in power. You know what’s annoying? Wheelie bins. Bloody, rubbish, smelly wheelie bins. If I lived in West Bromwich I’d be able to have right old whinge about it to Tom Watson, the local MP. He’d probably reply too — all without the need for tiresome official channels that are generally a pain. Not all MPs are on Twitter, but the number is growing steadily. Get stuck in.

8. You can read stuff you’d never normally have found. This is a tricky one to explain, but you know how you’re chatting with your friends, and they say something like “Oh, I saw this on YouTube the other day” or “Did you see that screamer scored by Aberdeen at the weekend?”… well, with just a little URL they can share their delight with you. Don’t underestimate how useful this is. Especially when someone sends you a website that allows you to place a rasher of bacon over a webpage.

9. You can use it to save heaps of time. “I haven’t got time to Twitter!” you say? “Madness!” say I. Harness your Twitter friends to help you out. “Where can I find a wi-fi pub around here?”… you’ll get an answer. “I need a restuarant for Friday night in Oxford”… you’ll get a personal recommendation in minutes — rather than having to spend ages looking online for a decent place and then not really knowing until you get there. Timewaster? No chance!

10. MC Hammer is on there. Can’t touch this.

So there we have it. And while you may think I stuck ol’ MC Hammer in there for a laugh, it’s actually quite an important point. Sometimes it’s that little piece of novelty that will tip someone over the edge — curiousity is enough to start the Twitter-ball rolling.

This is by no means a top ten of uses for Twitter. No way. It’s instead a list of things you can shove in the direction of anyone that says: “Twitter? Pathetic. Why would I want to know what Jonathan Ross is having for lunch?”

And, from the defence, I received some rather predictable responses against my argument.

I’ll start with this point, from Joanna Geary (formerly Birmingham Post, now The Times):

I have much sympathy with your argument, although £13 a month for legal protection may be worth it and it is for that reason I am still an NUJ member.

Of everything I received (and blimey, there was a LOT) this was perhaps the most useful. £13 a month, as Joanna says, is very good to get legal protection.I can’t argue with that.

But it’s comments like this from ‘Chris’ (no link given) that remind me why I wrote that post:

But you wait till you’re staring down the barrel of redundancy – through no fault of your own, just because it happens that your team is being shut down.

Wait till you’re being forced to accept alternative work in a place you don’t want to live or in an area you have no interest in.

Wait till you’re summoned to meetings for a “quick chat” and end up facing four senior managers using classic intimidation tactics.

Then you’ll wish you had a union rep by your side to help fight your corner.

It’s always good to have a union behind you if you’re facing redundancy. Now, I underqualify myself here, as not only have I never faced redundancy, but I work for a corporation that is arguably more ’stable’. In other words, licence fees are still coming in. While not immune, we are safer.

But my issue is that while the NUJ are fighting a corner, it’s all rather pointless. Take this recent example of an NUJ ‘fight’:

The NUJ has strongly condemned the decision of Independent Newspapers to enforce three redundancies at The Kerryman newspaper in Tralee.

Séamus said: “This proposal represents a direct attack on the editorial heart of one of the oldest and most significant newspapers in Ireland. The inevitable consequence would be a poorer newspaper, which would not adequately reflect the community life of Kerry.”

At a meeting with the union yesterday, management announced its intention to make three journalists redundant. The NUJ chapel held an emergency meeting at which management was urged to rescind the decision, which staff say will have a detrimental effect on The Kerryman and Corkman titles.

My issue with this goes back to my ‘SAVE THE JOURNALISTS!” argument. The NUJ is pouring its efforts into protesting job cuts, when really they should be coming together — as a union — to offer more productive aid to their members. Advice on training, re-skilling and re-deployment.

Ed Hart’s comment:

As an objective observer on this one, I have had good and bad experiences of unions. If I had to sum up what I would want a union to do and be, it is to work on behalf of its members. The problem is that some unions lose touch with what this means, and see themselves as lobbyists, or big movers and shakers; when in fact their remit remains low key, but essential to those who really should matter – their members. Do they occasionally forget who the customer is, and what their customer wants?

Helps me counter this argument from ‘thatstheway’ (uh huh, uh huh, I like it!):

Someone so self-consciously hip like you could have some input into its digital media strategy if you weren’t so busy doing precisely what you accuse the NUJ of doing all the time, which is complaining, and making digital media sound like some big deal that’s going to require your special skills alone.

I feel I could contribute with the NUJ no more actively than I could to ASLEF, the train drivers union. Why? I feel I don’t have a connection with their outlook in any shape of form.

I’m all for protecting the strength of print. By doing so, we uphold the values that have made our profession truly great. But I’m also aware that, like the industry, a union has to change and adapt. Sometimes there are battles that cannot be won by standing outside a building with a placard.

I think it’s time for the NUJ to take a step back and reflect.

It needs to swallow a bit of pride and admit that just because journalism is online, doesn’t make it bad. In fact, it can make it very, very good.

It needs to stop posting videos like this, which show not only a devestating lack of understanding about online media, but also an aggressive “We’re trained and you WILL employ us” attitude that we just can’t afford to have anymore.

Maybe what we need to do is knock our collective heads together and search for ideas of how the NUJ can modernise and become the forward-thinking union we all need it to be.

Because here’s the thing: I want to join the NUJ. One commenter on my last post accused me of having no sense of solidarity which, and I hope my friends would vouch for this, couldn’t be further from the truth. If the NUJ can bring itself up to speed, I would love to get stuck in and get my hands dirty.

I believe in the future of journalism. I believe that journalists will be as important in 50 years than they have ever been. I’m preparing myself, and training myself, for a world without newsprint. It’s time the NUJ got ready too.

At the time, I was promised not only huge benefits of being a card holder — entrance to events, and so on; never happened — but also representation. A union that would stand up for my rights as a student journalist.

But, after getting this promotional bullshit fed to me at during an early lecture at university, I haven’t seen nor heard a NUJ rep since.

And not for want of trying, either.

Last year I did a placement at a well-known media company. I was, for want of a better phrase, taken the piss out of. They wanted me to do a job that was not only away from the area I wanted to work, but was away from the company’s BUILDING. Instead, I was logging in a ten minute drive away. No thanks — I’m not paying £25 a day (they don’t pay expenses, naturally) to offer free labour.

(That said, once the matter was resolved, it turned into a very valuable placement which has lead to me making many good friends and career contacts.)

At the time, I emailed the NUJ for advice. As a student member, I asked, what rights do I have as part of this Union?

No reply. My £10 didn’t even earn me an email offering advice. No phone call, nothing. They couldn’t even be bothered to link me to a relevant part of their website for help. Which is a shame — because they do have a guide for this sort of thing (PDF). But try following their tips and insist on being paid a minimum wage for your placement — you’ll have a big red boot mark on your arse before you’d even sat down.

More recently — in my quest for NUJ help — after seeing several adverts for unpaid internships at websites that were making plenty of money, I emailed the NUJ to ask them if there’s anything they/I/we could do about it.

No reply.

Let me ask you this: Is the NUJ really standing up for journalists?

The answer for me is a very firm and direct no.

The NUJ is a cowardly union, hiding away in offices in which they wish were still furnished with typewriters and a smoking room. Their magazine, ‘Journalist’, is symbolic of their attitude to the changing media world. Only very recently has it become available online. As a downloadable PDF, that is. A pain to download, a pain to read — and completely anti-Google. Journalists looking for its words of ‘wisdom’ wouldn’t find them too easily.

Now when I say hiding — I don’t mean they’re not out there campaigning. They are. Very hard, in fact, with chapels springing up and making a lot of noise in places like the FT and in unison against the Birmingham media hub.

What I actually mean by hiding  is that they are cowering from the future. Here’s the NUJ, plowing money and effort into saying “STOP THE CUTBACKS!”… and then dealing with the blow with yet more anger and disbelief when it happens anyway.

If I were a member of the NUJ, I’d demand it help me as a struggling journalist. Where can I re-skill? How can the NUJ help me choose courses to enhance my online skills?

Simply: It can’t. Look at the diary — what do you see? Gloom — print this, rate cuts that. I’m not saying we don’t need meetings to discuss our rights in the workplace, but like the newspapers making the cuts, we are FIGHTING A LOSING BATTLE.

If the NUJ is really out there to act as a service for all working journalists, it needs to wake up. It needs to get over its fascination with tradition. It needs to pull its head from the sand, stand up and come up with a plan to really help those in need.

Right now, the only noise I hear from the NUJ is complaining.

“Save the journalists!” they’ll scream.

“But how we will survive? We can’t afford them,” say the newspapers.

“Well, er… we don’t know. Just SAVE THE JOURNALISTS, ok?”

Useless.

There’s a very interesting piece in a Guardian supplement today about something they’ve labelled University 2.0.

Annoyingly — and surprisingly, considering it’s the Guardian — the article isn’t online. But not to worry, I’ll quote the bit that got me thinking:

“[Peter Scott (director of the Open University's Knowledge Media Institute)] predicts that students  will soon be mixing their higher education experiences from resources all over the world, choosing to study at Harvard, say, while listening to lecutres from Oxford, taking part in discussion groups at the University of Mumbai, and sitting exams somewhere entirely different.”

Isn’t that great? Pick ‘n’ Mix education. The finest material from the finest institutions.

A date with Greg Linch and Andrew DeVigal

And, of course, this is already happening. A fortnight ago I logged on to Twitter to see Greg Linch tweeting about his imminent live webcast with the New York Times’ multimedia editor, Andrew DeVigal. I’ll pop in and have a look, I decided, not because I was really interested in sitting down for an hour and watching, but because I a) like Greg — our careers seem to run in parellel in some weird way and b) I wanted to see if it was any good.

And boy, it really was. Watch it here. Now while the shot may have been a little dark (owing to the fact Andrew was doing a presentation), it didn’t detract from the viewing. And even when the audio dropped out of sync every so often, it didn’t really matter too much.

Why? Because Andrew was brilliant. Engaging and well-prepared, his ‘lecture’ was more like a Jobs-like keynote… pacing around the room, getting excited about what he does.

And then add to the experience that while this was going on, Greg was popping links into the chat panel so that we could have a go at what he was talking about. For example, when Andrew mentioned the Virginia Tech graphic… Greg popped up moments later with a link. In that respects, this experience was actually superior to actually being there.

Oh Mindy, you came and you gave without taking

Really, she did! And indeed… she does. Constantly. Mindy McAdams, I mean. She puts her courses online so we all can learn. I used them extensively to prepare my work for New Zealand. Not because I was lazy and just wanted to copy, but because I know that Mindy is possibly the best in the world at what she does. How do I know this? Because she puts it all online. So, if the worry from colleges and universities is that free courses will mean no students — I’d argue it means the opposite. If you do a great course, we’ll all know.

Mindy doesn’t stop there. Not content with just plonking course syllibi online, she also makes online content for teaching too. Made for her students, but shared with the world. Want to learn Flash? Take a look.

Let the thinkers do the talking

So, from the practical skills-learning of Mindy, to the theoretical get-your-mind-thinking work of Adrian Monck. I was lucky enough to catch Adrian in Cambridge last year as he introduced his new book, ‘Can you trust the media?’. He is a strikingly nice bloke and, even more importantly, he discussed things that still embed themselves in my head on a dayt-to-day basis. As I established over dinner one night in the company of Martin Hirst and Jim Tucker, a good ethical brain is as important to a journalist as his newsgathering skills.

Adrian shares his thoughts on a daily basis. Offering up links and resources that, in previous years, would traditionally be saved for his students — he teaches at City — tied up in reading lists that are as long as they are tedious.

And then there’s Paul Bradshaw, David Dunkley Gyimah and the brilliant Jay Rosen. What a dream team! Not to mention all the educational journalism blogs out there. 10,000 Words being the best example right now.

Please, sirs, can we have some more?

So all that’s great, isn’t it? Of course it is! You’d be mad to argue that all this information in the open internet isn’t promoting better journalism.

As ever, we can do so much more. At the University of Lincoln, the wisdom-ous Richard Keeble organises a series of guest lectures every fortnight. Past speakers have included the BBC’s Jonathan Charles, Channel 4’s Dorothy Byrne and, the speaker that really kicked off this blog for me, Philip Knightley.

They were all brilliant sessions. With some lively Q+A. Next month, Lincoln will be hosting Will Lewis, editor of the Daily Telegraph. I’m going to try and go. But couldn’t this be streamed too?

I know other universities are holding similar sessions. And I’m sure we’d all be interested in what each place is learning about — so why can’t we share? Why can’t some students at these universities be shown how to set up a camera and stream these guest lectures to the world. I’m sure, like when I logged on to Greg’s feed, we’d have journalism students from all over the world chipping in to ask questions, get involved in discussion and, above all, LEARN.

The great open-source syallabus

In the last month I’ve attended a lecture at the University of Miami, courtesy of Greg, and asked a question to the multimedia editor of the New York Times. I’ve taken a course in Flash journalism — thanks to Mindy — and read about the pros and cons of digital recorders — handy for the future, definitely. I’ve considered the effect of the media blackout in Gaza thanks to insight (and links to other opinions, let’s not forget) from Adrian Monck. I’ve discovered some nifty resources for following breaking news thanks to 10,000 Words. That’s one hell of an education.

This is happening all over Britain’s professions. The wealthy writer (and self-confessed “pushy mum”) Rachel Johnson is admirably honest about it. She says: “The truth is getting a job depends almost entirely on getting work experience, which depends almost entirely on whom you or your family knows … This back-scratching cycle of privilege is the middle-class Circle of Life. So it’s all jolly unfair, frankly.”

Who does this cheat? Johnson says: “All those students who support themselves through university, only to find out when they leave that the glittering prizes have already been handed out, at a ceremony they never knew was taking place, to the undergraduate with the best connections.”

This isn’t just bad for the people who are shut out. It is bad for the professions – and the country. Talent is distributed throughout the population – but we are only picking from a tiny tier, based on their parents’ bank balance. Imagine if the England football team was made up of the sons of the 1966 winners and their mates. How would they perform? Imagine if films could be cast using only the children of actors. How many talents would we exclude?

I’ve been trying (a little) to shake off that video for three reasons. First, I sound a bit drunk. Second, its shoddily shot — but that can be blamed on the previous point, rather than poor video skills. Promise.

Thirdly, and by far the most important, I feel the message portrayed in the video doesn’t adequatly describe how I feel about the situation. It seems I’m annoyed at the BBC for not going big on the earthquake like Sky did. Not so. I’m annoyed because it wasn’t mentioned. Equally, Sky’s coverage was a bit over the top.

(On a side point, Sky made a promotional video using my footage – and I understand they’ve used it to promote their breaking news pedigree. Good — I’m very pleased with that. The key fact here is that Sky gave the public what it needed: information. The BBC lead with deathly silence.)

Luckily, some weeks later, I was given the chance to add to my thoughts on the BBC’s NewsWatch program. Sadly I can’t link — it’s no longer online.

Their defence was not that the BBC was slower, but that as it was early in the morning, the coverage on News 24 was in fact BBC World. And, thus, a minor earthquake is not important in the complete international agenda. Can’t argue with that, can you?

Well yes, I think you can.

Firstly, the first comment made by the BBC anchor was along the lines of “We’re just hearing reports…”. This suggests that it’s the first they new about it and it would also suggest that it hadn’t been held back because it wasn’t in keeping with the international news agenda — the reason given on NewsWatch.

If indeed the BBC knew about the earthquake straight away, why did they wait until an hour later to mention it? Surely this ‘unimportant’ story is even less important an extra hour after it occurred? For me it’s a choice of mention it straight away, or not mention it at all. Everything points to the news team being too slow.

I’m convinced that nobody at News 24 knew about it until the very first moment the anchor mentioned it.

But let’s get back to the BBC’s defence. I can see the logistics (and economics) of simulcasting BBC World and BBC News 24. On a normal night, I don’t have a problem with it. But what happened on earthquake night was a sizable amount of people were awoken from their sleep by a large, continuous thud. My first thoughts were that our stairs — already  a bit shaky — had collapsed. My second thought was earthquake. When we went outside, a lady was telling us there’d been a bomb. Another said that the pharmacy they were building down the road had fallen down.

All silly assumptions. The point is, though, that we DIDN’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED. Yes, it was minor. Yes, by midday the next day, it was nothing more than a nib on the national news. But when it had just happenened, nobody knew what was going on.

Sky News told us. BBC News didn’t. Which provided the better service to the public?

“Minor earthquake in Lincolnshire”…. good, let’s go to bed. That’s how it should have all happened.

The irony of all this is that I now work for the BBC. And it’s no exaggeration to say that I love it. Even in my small role, I’m extremely proud of my contribution to the greatest news-gathering organisation in the world bar none.

Plenty of people have used my video to see it as some sort of ammo to fling at the licence fee. Bunch of fools, I say.

Hi Dave,

I just saw your post on journalism.co.uk’s TNTJ page, and I’d like to let you know about my fantastic work experience at the Borehamwood and Elstree Times.  I spent a month at this Newsquest-owned local newspaper, working with three excellent journalists who did everything possible to support, advise and train me.  I was writing two features a week plus ad hoc nibs, short news stories and vox pops from my very first day and learned some really useful and interesting lessons along the way.  They were really helpful in answering any questions I had, offering advice and guidance, and gave me a really good range of experience including going out to interview in person and organising a day shadowing the subs, who are based in another office.  All this was particularly impressive given the small size of the team

Another impressive review. Any placement that gives students a chance to expand their creative horizons like this is well worth the time and money.

I still intend to do that. But in the days since that post, I’ve received two emails. They are sparklingly positive. So much so, in fact, I found myself thinking that yes, there really are some brilliant, generous and sincere working journalists out there. Journalists who know how it feels to be starting out, scraping together what few pennies you have in pursuit of a dream.

And above them, entire newspapers have a culture of nurturing. Like a football club with a great youth system, some newspapers and media companies thrive on their ability to harness young talent into something great.

They need to be championed. The site — I need help coding it. Any semi-experts, please get in touch — will put as much emphasis on the good as it does the bad.

The first emailer, Scott Lewis, wrote to me on Sunday with this glowing report about the Sunderland Echo:

Hi Dave,

I read about your latest project on journalism.co.uk, and I’d like to share a positive experience I had while studying at the University of Sunderland between 2003 and 2006.

During my time there I spent three years working for the Sunderland Echo on a fairly regular basis. In all that time, never once did I feel exploited in any way. Quite the opposite, in fact – the resident staff made me feel just like a member of the team, would critique my work, explain what was wrong with it and help me to improve (yet would never be patronising), and taught me just as much – if not more – about journalism as I was learning in my classes. I never recieved a penny for the work I did, but I consider myself a much stronger journalist with a much wider-ranging portfolio than I would have been had I not been given this opportunity.

I understand how widespread student exploitation is right now, and many people warned me against it, but I feel the time I spent at the Echo was completely worthwhile, and I’d recommend them to any student looking to get some newsroom experience.

I don’t know if that helps you any, but I wanted to write to point out that not all voluntary work experience gigs are bad or exploitative. In fact, in my case it was one of the best decisions I ever made.

Good luck with the rest of the study, and all the best,

Scott Lewis

The second emailer hasn’t yet offered her permission, but if they do, I’ll share.

So, well done to the Sunderland Echo. And thanks, Scott, for getting in touch.