I cried on Monday. Does that make me pathetic? Overly sensitive? Insecure? Immature? Weak? Or does that mean I care so much about this internship, that I don’t want to make mistakes, that I want to be perfect (I know that’s impossible), that I want to impress my bosses? Regardless of whatever it means, I cried on Monday.
I was at a press conference outside of the Bronx criminal courthouse. New York senator Ruben Diaz was there to support the family of a 10-year-old girl that was raped by her teacher. Diaz and other elected officials and members of the church spoke to the audience of reporters, then the grandmother of the girl spoke. She started crying and yelling. It was so emotional for her. I recorded everything so I could transcribe later. The problem for me was that she was speaking in Spanish. I don’t understand Spanish. Luckily, another reporter asked for someone to translate what she was saying.
Following the press conference was the teacher-rapist’s court appearance. Somehow he was allowed to opt out of physically being in court. His lawyer represented him. Obviously the family was infuriated that the guy who raped this young girl was not man enough to show his face in court. When everyone was back outside, an aunt of the girl started crying and screaming in Spanish. She was trembling. Her knees were shaking. I thought her black high heels were going to snap in half. She began to fall but was held up by nearby police officers and family members before being escorted away. It happened so quickly and was so chaotic that there was no chance to ask for a translation of what she was saying.
At the time, I wasn’t too worried because the grandmother spoke as well as all those other important people. I had a lot of transcribing to do so I knew I’d have some good quotes in there. After 3 hours of doing that, all my quotes were in and I felt pretty good.
It’s difficult being in the court room because it’s so hard to hear sometimes with people walking in and out and papers shuffling around. I get nervous because I have to report back every detail or else my presence is kind of pointless.
Anyway, eventually I got a call from the desk and was being transferred to the big boss (my boss’ boss), which couldn’t be good, right? Why would the big man be calling an intern?
The NY Post was also at this press conference. Their story came out online and of course the Daily News read it because we’re competitors. The Post had a reporter there that knew Spanish. They quoted her. Their article had the hysterical aunt. Hysterics, especially from family members, adds color to an otherwise glum story.
I was told: I made a mistake. I didn’t do well. I should’ve recorded the hysterical aunt and then sent the recording to the office for someone else to transcribe it. I should’ve asked someone what she said. I should’ve asked for a phone number to contact her later. I should’ve done better. How do I think it makes the Daily look when the Post quotes someone we don’t have? I have to do better. I have to recover from this.
It’s hard to be criticized. It’s not easy to swallow your pride and get yelled at by someone you’re trying so hard to impress.
At this point, it was 6 p.m. Usually I work until around 4. My Dad had left the city so I had to figure out how to take a bus home. It would take an hour to get back to Manhattan. I went to the Port Authority offices instead of the actual bus station so I had to get back on the subway and backtrack 30 blocks. I waited 20 minutes for the bus. I wasn’t even sure it was the right bus. After an hour I got off at the stop where I told my Dad to pick me up. He wasn’t there. According to him, I wasn’t where HE wanted to pick me up, where HE thought I’d be. I was over 20 minutes from the house which was an inconvenience to HIM. Did he really think I had any idea where I was? I didn’t know I could stay on the bus longer and get off closer to the house. I’d never taken that bus before. I’ve never lived in this area before. It’s all new to me.
I know I’m complaining, but I had had a really difficult day. It was so hot out. I got lost. I got yelled at. It was past my bedtime and I just wanted to get home. The last thing I needed was my father yelling at me. He had no idea why I was so upset. He didn’t know I had a tough day nor did he try to understand. He’s been working in the business world for 30+ years. He doesn’t remember what it’s like to be new, nervous, overwhelmed and confused.
The next day, my boss emailed me basically telling me not to get upset or discouraged. It’s all a learning experience. They know I won’t get everything right, but that doesn’t mean they won’t ride me when I fail.
On a side note, I met Alec Baldwin on Friday. He wasn’t nice.