Last week, one of my favorite students came to see me. She is one of the good ones–smart, thoughtful, nice–and she’s also one of my TAs. She had decided after much agonizing and soul-searching that she did not want to be a teacher but wanted to follow her true love, which is publishing. “What do I need to do?” she asked. I suggested internships might be a good place to start. “How do I do that?” she asked. I had no idea.
Then it hit me. I know someone in publishing, and I know that this someone has connections to a publisher just a few miles from campus. After jumping to their website, I discovered that they do hire interns. My student–let’s call her C, shall we?–and I were happy about this. “Let me e-mail my friend,” I told C. “Maybe she can give us some insider help.” I dashed off an e-mail to Emily, who, despite her huge move and worry about her nieces, replied. The internship contact listed on the website already had enough interns, but another person in the company needed someone. Emily said she would put in the good word for C. I forwarded this information to C, who immediately called the new contact.
Today C bounced into my office. She had the interview earlier in the morning and got the internship. She loves the company. She loves the company’s website and online work. She loves the people at the company. She is already planning her career there. “I owe it all to you,” she said. But she’s wrong. I’m the conduit, no more praiseworthy than ATT is when you get good news over the phone. C did it with her obvious talents, and Emily did it, helping out a friend even when she was busy.
Gee. You’re making me blush again.