My Almost One Year in PR

PR was never for me; it is not a place where I fit in. I never really understood it and I honestly did not want to know about it. In college my friends and I would make fun of the PR students…they weren’t “real” journalists; they don’t have deadlines or editors breathing down their necks. So when my first job out of college was at a mid-level sized entertainment PR agency my peers from school were as equally confused as I was. Ever since I was a child I wanted to write for a newspaper or magazine, but after being told over and over again that I didn’t have enough experience for the world of reporting, writing and editing, although I wrote my first story when I was 9…writing is my passion, but PR was the only place that would take me.

I went through an agency, career strategist, who suggests PR; although it wasn’t for me they thought it would be a good fit with my journalistic background. What does PR have to do with journalism? Do they even write anything? I blindly accepted working at the agency, because I wanted to move on from my last job of 4 years which was even further removed from the world of journalism, an office assistant.

My first day impression of this unknown world was very strange to me. As I sat in the kitchen/ break room area waiting for my assignment, waiting to be trained by someone I noticed one by one girls marching in for coffee, breakfast and to store their lunches away in the refrigerator located behind me. There were other girls who were starting with me on that day and we were all waiting like me for our fate at this place. Of all the people who walked in and out of the kitchen, no one said hi, good morning, introduced themselves, nothing at all. I thought PR was a social environment but apparently I was wrong. Once I went through the initial where everything is and went to my seat in front of the computer, I began feeling a little more at ease.

Once I learned what my task was going to be, I was all set to take on my role as a “clipper,” sounded like a made up position in my opinion, but the pay was around the same as I was making before with a change of scenery for a while. Even after working there for a month I only knew a few people…and no one seemed to care or know who I was. I later learned that because of my temporary position that I really didn’t matter. Although I was told that if they wanted me to stay permanently then that choice was up to me. I noticed that all the women there were young but I didn’t know much about them, besides the fact that their heads were buried in front of their computers and they never laughed, smiled or EVER seemed happy while at work. I was used to communicating with people. Even in the newsroom, we would talk, about the stories on AP, about what was going in the paper, about the writers, the editors, and our paper…our business. But here, people only spoke when they absolutely had to. In the beginning I remained as quiet as possible, but I thought that I was going to loose my freaking mind after a while.

On my first day I was told that I would only be a temporary employee and if they wanted me to stay they would sign me on as permanent. The concept didn’t make since but I was sent to them from an agency. So as a temporary working my job title was that of a “clipper”. Sounded like a made up job in my opinion, but the pay was decent enough, after all I was only 23 and anything that paid the rent would be good enough for the time being.

People only actually spoke to me when they needed something clipped, or if I did something wrong with a clip. Other than that I was completely ignored for the rest of the summer...

Up until this point I was doing the same thing every day, clipping. I still didn’t understand what it had to do with PR. I started blocking people out and things around me out…it wasn’t a fun place to be. Not that work should be fun, but it should be interesting and doing the same mundane thing day after day was not interesting. I continued looking for a job in the meantime. But then I began feeling like people thought I was stupid with the questions they would ask me about certain computer programs that I wasn’t used to. “Haven’t you used Microsoft excel before?” – HELL NO! We didn’t need to use this program to produce a magazine or a newspaper.

“Have you ever used a Mac before?” – EVERY DAMN DAY! How else do you think I managed a magazine and helped monitor page layouts and edit my section using Adobe InDesign? Who the fuck did these people think they were? I’ve used a Mac since I was 13 producing the newspaper at my high school. Honestly working there, “clipping” I felt like I was loosing brain cells. In my down time, which I had a lot of in the beginning, I started reading Reuters, Associated Press, the Los Angeles and New York Times’ websites every chance I got so I wouldn’t become stupider from copying and fucking pasting.

It wasn’t until September when I was asked about a possible promotion. I would be working with another group of people, different from the ones I was currently working with. I would have had to take a test of writing a Press release, something I never did, and creating an excel spreadsheet of something called an outreach chart, something I’ve never heard of. I considered the promotion but after my plane landed at JFK, I was there for a wedding, the moment I turned my phone on, I received a phone call from one of the Tribune newspapers for a job interview. Now I am a firm believer in fate and signs and the fact that everything happens for a reason. But all of this happened within 8 hours of each other; I had to weigh my options very carefully. If I took the promotion, there would be no way I could go to the interview, plus PR was not what I wanted to do…working on at a paper was where I wanted to be. When I got back to work that Monday I called to set up the interview opportunity, and I turned down the offer.

Unfortunately, my old friend “experience” came back to bite me in the ass, and although I passed the writing and copy editing test, “perfectly” I believe is what the lady told me, it still wasn’t enough to land me a job. My personal side note for interviewers and places of employment… when you see someone’s resume can’t you decide right then and there if they have an ample amount of experience? Seriously don’t waste my time and get me excited. This has happened too many times in the year that I have been out of college. I interviewed to be a copy editor, a reporter, an editorial assistant and my longest shot yet, a publicity assistant. To all be told the same thing…not enough job experience. Apparently my passion, my burning desire since I was 9 years old is not enough! I created a magazine when I was 10! I wrote a script and directed a movie with my Barbie dolls when I was 11! I have written something every damn day since I was 14! – Ok my ranting is over. Now back to the story.

By that time, the PR agency hired someone else; they had no time to wait the entertainment world moves quickly. I was back to square one, continuing to be a temp clipping. People became nicer to me, even though I felt like I had to force it on them. I thought that I was so nice to everyone, but niceness doesn’t seemed welcomed in PR. Once I turned down the position I was just stuck. I started clipping for a new team. Within a couple of months they started wanting me to do more things for them, in the wake of a new high demand client. I taught myself how to use excel, since no one showed me how. I received help from some of the people who I sort of became friends with, since they were the nicest to me and I started to help out more. My day to day changed and I was becoming more comfortable with what I was doing. I thought my new team respected me a little more since they gave more to do. Little did I know I was slowly being prepared to take on my next role at the agency…?

The person who took the position in September from me quit in February. She and I became friends. We talked all the time and I felt like we understood each other. So her decision to quit at the last minute on a Friday came as a complete shock to me. I didn’t understand the difficulties that she faced in the position. It all seemed to be so easy to me. But she had some personal issues with a few of the girls, who I really didn’t know about.

Naturally I was offered the position because I was directly below her. This time I did the unthinkable and took the promotion. I gave up on looking for another job. Was I meant to be in PR? Was this the place for me? I started thinking about things happening for a reason, and me not being the ultimate decider in my own fate. From our Christmas party at work, when I met with someone who was called a psychic/ spiritual advisor, and after speaking with that person again over Christmas break I was told that I need to focus on my dream of writing. And she told me not to get caught up in what I was doing. So I thought about it…and thought for weeks. I spoke with my family and my boy friend and decided that I can do PR during the day and write at night. Because after all, I have to pay rent and my bills, I don’t live at home with my parents, I take care of myself.

So I took the position…and I stayed. Every single day and night I worked and every morning I felt like I was hit by a train from being so tired. I honestly had no idea what I got myself in to. I had to help maintain five accounts and I tried to do everything that I could possibly do to make it right. When I first started working there I befriended the receptionist, because she was the only person who spoke to me in the beginning. But there was trouble because I would open up and talk to her about things that was going on…and let’s face it, she was very nosy. What else does a receptionist have to do, but be nosy? I was scolded from gossiping with her about work from the very beginning, but I honestly thought she was the only one who had my back. So I stopped communicating with her on a level that was more than “Hi” and “Bye.” I felt like I was forced to communicate only with my team. There was this type of an isolation that my team had. They didn’t really communicate with anyone else nor did they want to. They accused me of making them come off as bitches to the rest of the agency because of the reasons why the other girl who quit got out…not from me solely because she was friends with other people there, but it just seemed strange. I didn’t really connect it at first, but I felt like I was back in high school, or on the set of Mean Girls. I isolated myself once again from everyone else. I just worked, never really took a lunch and ended up loosing 6lbs. in two months time. I would work until 1 a.m. some nights and on the weekends to try to fix things. I thought that I was making my job easier when in actuality I was making everything more difficult for myself.

And I still didn’t learn that much about PR after a month in to my new position. After one of our team members felt like we were all miserable our boss decided to take us to Happy Hour. I must honestly say that I was not “happy” at our scheduled time to drink. I wanted to drink as much as possible and shut the hell up because I felt like everything that was being said was a complete trap and a set up. I went home and cried that night, and from that moment home I was unhappy at work. With the exception of a few people I hated my job; I hated what I was doing and the people that I was surrounded by. I felt uncomfortable every single day and I just wanted to go home. When I finally confided in some people at work about how I felt, I received sympathy and what I thought was an understanding from my team mates. Day after day my anxiety would build up to the point that I wanted to walk out and just leave everything I had there. I would cry at work, when I had to stay late to work, I became so weak and sensitive to everything that was said to me. I felt like I was in boot camp and was slowly being broken down to mere nothingness.

This wasn’t me. I am a strong, independent woman who knows herself and knows what I want out of life. I was not this weak person crying and missing lunch all for a job that I didn’t want from the beginning. I love lunch! I love to eat! Although people suggested that I speak to my boss about my feelings of anxiety, people who were closer to me, my family and my boyfriend suggested I just bail out of there.

Last Monday I gave my two weeks notice and I feel so relieved. Although it is hard for me to explain what PR is, or what it should be I learned more about myself. I learned not to trust people in the work place and that in moments of weakness it is better to vent and let everything out at home. I couldn’t imagine exploding on my boss how overwhelmed I felt, because honestly she thought I could handle every single thing that was thrown at me. But this world of unrealistic deadlines and goals seems so imaginary. I had to be a mind reader, a magician and smile the whole time while trying to figure out the next steps all at once. It takes a special person to work at this agency apparently, because after speaking to another career strategist who told me that the longest person from their strategist lasted at this particular PR agency only 13 months, I could only laugh. It was so true!

People came and go just about every month from the time I started. Whether they were let go or quit, no one seemed to last there. With the exception of a handful of people, who I honestly think just got comfortable; no one seemed to last over a year. Five girls in one year alone in my particular position! Does that not seem like a problem? That would honestly disturb me if I was a boss. Changes would have to made, but in my last week or so left, nothing changed at all. I don’t even have a job lined up...so why not stay? What was the point of putting myself through all of this unhappiness to not even move on to a better opportunity?

Because a writer will sacrifice any relationship, anything – mother, father, husband and child – for the sake of a good story. And the next story is only a click away.