Words have always been a tool to me, something I鈥檝e been able to mould to fit any and all situations, a dagger hidden behind a cloak ready to be unsheathed at any moment.
I found my passion for storytelling at a young age, while other youths escaped reality through television; I found respite in putting pen to paper.
My grandma would pay me for every short story I brought her; at the time I saw nothing more in it than a way to make a few easy dollars. It spurred me on, however, to continue honing my craft, belated to deliver my next masterpiece to my grandma鈥檚 eager eyes.
Throughout my teenage years, I fell away from writing. As these things go, you become busy with friends, girls and filling the daytime hours causing mischief wherever possible.
It wasn鈥檛 until I found myself dreading my job, a terribly boring 5 a.m. start maintenance gig, that I decided I needed to walk a path that would lead to not just another job, but a career that I could be truly passionate about.
I began scouring the web for college courses that spoke to my interests. I debated the idea of business administration, but wanted something that would allow me the freedom to be both in and out of an office whenever I chose.
Shortly after I began my search, I was reminiscing with my mother about the stories my grandma had paid me for years ago, and I realized my path was always in front of me, I just had to look behind me to remember.
I applied to the 麻豆视频ern Alberta Institute of Technology (SAIT), hoping to gain admittance to their journalism program. From the research I had done, it is renowned for their hands on, practical teaching style.
A few weeks passed before I received word from SAIT regarding my acceptance, until one day I got bad news. I had been accepted into the program; however, the classes were full, so I had been put on a wait list and would probably have to wait until the upcoming year to reapply.
Come late August I got a phone call that would change my life. Someone had dropped out of the program and a spot was now open for me, the only issue was that I had less than two weeks to organize tuition, acquire student loans, and get prepared to start my schooling.
Never one to run from adversity, I gladly accepted the challenge, and with the help of my parents I got all my proverbial ducks in a row in the knick of time.
Two years of schooling flew by before my eyes. My passion for writing had been reignited and a new passion had been found in the art of photojournalism.
The hunt was then on. I shuddered at the thought of having spent two years in school and returning to the workforce with zero experience, and in an industry that has seen large layoffs in recent years.
I persevered, however, and sent my resum茅 across Canada in hopes that I would stand above the rest of the competition and have a publication take pity on my student loan debt-ridden soul.
My prayers were answered by the team at Estevan Mercury Publications, who had received my resum茅 and were intrigued by my previous work and ability to put thoughts to paper in a provoking manner.
Intense conversations were had, by way of calls, emails and texts and after what, to me, felt like an eternity, I was offered a position as a reporter with Estevan Mercury publications.
The 鈥渇un鈥� wasn鈥檛 over yet though, as now I had to find accommodations, transportation and family help to uproot my life from Calgary, and transition to Estevan in only a few weeks.
I had fears of moving to Saskatchewan as I鈥檝e become acquainted to living near mountains and trees and had heard stories of how flat and 鈥渂oring鈥� the landscape could be.
Upon my arrival in Estevan, I couldn鈥檛 have been more elated. The town that I had envisioned as flat and dreary was actually green and lush; there were even trees and hills.
I knew the second I arrived I could call this place home, and that鈥檚 what I plan to do.
As I write my own story in my new home, I hope to be able to help write a bit of yours as well.
听
听
