Reflections from a retired intern
Internships. That's all students eat, dream, and rave about in college, and I am the student. I had been longing deeply and dearly for an internship for the summer, and it was not so much about gaining work experience but more the title. Not having one meant there was something you were not doing right. Finally, after rounds of interviews and rejections, we landed an internship. My favorite part about it was that it was in New York; the aspects of the job did not appeal much to me. In fact, I felt they were too opposed to my personality. But beggars can't be choosers, and with the staggering statistics of unemployment in the market, I sealed the deal; this summer I had somewhere to be. The buzzword could finally roll over my tongue not as an anxiety-inducing word reminding me of all the ways I had failed, but as a reminder of what would be anticipated for this summer. Coming into this vocation, I was armed. Having constantly heard all the horror stories of the workplace, I soa...