It had been roughly thirty seconds since the confirmation call from StreetWise to say that I would indeed be their intern and my phone rang.
Chicago number.
Hello? I said.
This is Joel Bleifuss, editor of In These Times, said the deep voice at the other end.
In These Times had been my number one place to intern. I had discovered this publication when first looking at Chicago internship sites back in February. I had been wowed immediately by their all star staff—Barbara Ehrenreich, my personal hero and author of the book Nickel and Dimed, all about minimum wage jobs in America, had started out writing for them. In These Times was Kurt Vonnegut’s favorite magazine. And the articles? Wow. Cleverly and articulately written, they were all about the issues in the world and in this country that I care most about—politics, injustice and the human casualties of it all.
When I had arrived in Chicago and contacted them, Mr. Bleifuss had apologetically told me that they already had enough interns for the summer and they wouldn’t be needing me. I was devastated. I e-mailed him my resume, all the same: Just in case, I said.
And now, it was Mr. Bleifuss on the other end. One of our interns had to leave, he said. Would you like the position?
I was shocked. This was not just an offer for an interview. This was an offer of a position at my dream internship. And literally thirty seconds before, I had accepted at StreetWise. My initial response was to thank him, but to explain the situation. I expressed regret, he sounded sad. I hung up.
I started to pace. Had I really just hung up on In These Times? I called the Chicago Center and asked for their advice. See if you can interview there all the same, Althea said, Go check it out.
I called Mr. Bleifuss back. When are you free? I asked. Can we talk possibilities?
Anytime today, he said.
I hung up, rushed to get ready, looked up directions and I was off.
*
When I arrived at the site, I called my journalism advisor at KU before I went in. I also called my mom. I agreed to call them back after I had interviewed.
I entered the dusty hallway sandwiched next to a discount clothing store. I almost missed it, except for the peeling letters that said In This Times on the glass door. Surrounding me were large cardboard boxes, stuffed with copies of the magazine. Up until now, I had only seen it online. Now, I saw the beautiful copies in person. They were wonderful, so much prettier than StreetWise, I thought wistfully, flipping through one.
I climbed up the rickety stairs and entered a space just like how I imagined it would be. Shelves were stacked with books I lusted after: alternative titles, journalistic accounts of injustice and human rights cases. Other shelves held copy after copy of the magazine. Someone’s bike was parked in the corner. Incredible posters of past events and local art shows graced the walls. I wandered the sunlit corridor until I stumbled upon Mr. Bleifuss’ office.
Mr. Bleifuss is an academic, a former reader from Colombia, Missouri, where he was a sociology professor. He became editor several years ago. He spoke with a slight lisp and seemed eager for me to start as soon as possible, barely skimming the resume and work samples I handed him.
He spoke of the magazine’s projects—a companion magazine about immigration and worker’s rights in Spanish (my eyes lit up—I’m your girl, I think I said—exactly what I said at StreetWise.) He spoke about the other interns—assembled from the best schools in the nation. I was a little awed to be counted among them.
But, all the same, I had a little bit of a sinking feeling. I wanted so much to intern here; to be amongst the other hotshot interns and to have In These Times glowing on my resume. But at the same time, the more I talked to him, the more I realized that the kind of work I would be doing, while it would be for an exciting magazine, would not be inherently exciting. I’d be reviewing books occasionally, but mostly, I’d be proof reading the work of others. I’d be expected to blog a little, but I doubted very much that anyone would read it. Even Mr. Bleifuss himself seemed to only be including the blog component to keep up with these modern times, he even said he didn’t care much for it.
When I talked to another intern, she confirmed this thought.
I wandered away, shocked at the feelings that were swirling in my stomach. I had been offered my dream internship and my heart told me to take the one at a low-budget street paper instead.
*
I had the weekend to decide. I flirted with doing both for awhile—one day a week at In These Times, just to be in that climate and to get the name on my resume. But in my heart, I knew that wasn’t the ticket. I had a learned a hard lesson about overbooking myself last semester and I didn’t want to let anyone down again. I needed to throw myself into whatever internship I decided to do. Philipp, my room mate, counseled me to do the same, pointing out that if anyone asked, I would have to explain how little time I spent at each site.
And so, Monday morning, I called Joel Bleifuss at In These Times and my friend Gabriel Piemonte at The Hyde Park Herald. I left messages and penned a e-mail to each. I’d be going with StreetWise, I said, but it was a hard decision. Neither of them ever got back to me and I don’t really blame them. One little intern who says no isn’t that important in the long run to the running of a magazine. I am sure they were each a little bit miffed and each very busy.
And soon, I’d be busy myself. Because I had just made one of the best decisions of my life.
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