Way back when I was a small child, if you’d have told me “You’re going to Fleet Street”-as in, to be a Journalist, though most publications are now based elsewhere-I’d have probably laughed in your face. Me? The child who didn’t make many friends? Seriously? Fat chance!
Imagine my glee on spotting this…
This is a road or two away from where I’m now studying to become an NCTJ qualified Journalist. I noticed it when I travelled down to sit my aptitude test, and I had to take a photo; it’s even my MacBook screensaver. That’s how much this means to me.
Fleet Street is synonymous with a lot of things-including the unsavoury, in part due to the fallout of the phone hacking scandal. (On reading about that, I was disgusted.) But to me, it’s being useful, getting to write, running around after stories, asking questions, interviews, the ‘live’ feeling of a newsroom…
Getting to study an NCTJ certified course is a privilege; I could not have imagined that it is where I would have ended up. I like that we are doing it for ourselves, and that the lecturers are nice, we are actively encouraged to ask questions, and that we get to write stories.
Journalist’s do get a bad reputation-but to brand us all with the same brush I feel is unfair. (See more here.) The people I have met are some of the nicest, kindest people I have come across; I would not have missed this for anything. I have finally found ‘my home’, intellectually.
Going to Fleet Street? Yes please.