Day in the life of a journo: Playing news crews with the big guys

Well yesterday was a memorable day in my journalism career so far. Two days earlier, we had received an email from the print tutor Tim, who were announcing an "exciting opportunity at RAF Waddington". My journo senses twitched slightly. He was secretive on what was happening exactly, but promised it would be worth our while if we attended.

"Stick me down for this Tim", was my immediate reply. Once again the advantage of having blackberries was apparent to me. I wandered next door and spoke to two other tutors who were just as unsure about what was going on about me. All they knew was that it was something big. And I knew it was all I'd ever wanted to cover as a journalism student.

About an hour later I got a reply from my original email, giving me some more information about what was happening:

"The Deputy Prime Minister, the Rt Hon Nick Clegg MP, will visit RAF Waddington, near Lincoln, on Thursday 3rd November 2011, to welcome home and congratulate UK Armed Forces personnel who have successfully completed the UK Air Component's mission in Libya, under the auspices of United Nations Security Council Resolution 1973.

The event will be attended by personnel from the RAF, Royal Navy and Army, who have recently returned from flying or supporting missions as part of international efforts in Libya. Your organisation is invited as there will be military assets from your region, here at the facility.

The Deputy Prime Minister will be available for interview".

My mouth dropped slightly. Nick Clegg? Really? My week was getting more hectic - first preparation with the Westborough Baptist Church and now Nick Clegg. Without hesitation I confirmed my place on the trip and set about researching questions.

I was up until 11pm that night researching questions and then I collapsed onto my bed in a heap! The alarm at 6:45 came too quickly the next day. I literally jumped out of bed and got in to the shower - I think I was ready by 8:20 (after tying Jamie Freshwater's tie for him)

So off we went to the airbase. After being escorted to the car park, the first person to say hello to us was from Sky News, and then the rest of the vans rolled in. AFP, BBC National, ITV, Lincs FM, BBC Lincolnshire, The Sun - they were all there. I was petrified, really petrified. This was it - no calls from the newsroom to fluffy cat charities for soft news (as is usually the case for our newsdays), this was the real deal with the big players in the media business...and we were amongst it all.

It was initially quite a bizarre experience. We hung around in the aircraft hangar with the camera crews, then at the exact minute predicted in strode Nick Clegg. Straight over to the podium, delivered his speech and then off to meet troops. It was ridiculously choreographed down to the exact amount of minutes he had to spend with each crew. There was no flinching, the man knew what he was doing and he exerted confidence. He evidently had a good team of advisers.

Everywhere he went inside the hanger the media circus followed him. We were all briefed beforehand "Do not engage with DPM while he is talking to troops, this is his time". So whenever he went from one crew to the next, the cameras circling and photographers all went with him. Eventually he came to the assembled media for his press questioning. He had exactly 18 minutes to talk, which descended into a sort of free for all with various press shouting out questions to him. I was ducked down out of range of the television cameras, until my feet ached too much so I got on my knees onto the concrete runway.

Ow - take it from me, it hurt. Next time I go to an event like this I'm taking knee pads - not only was I kneeling on this, I had my arm raised above my head with the AFP microphone and my microphone in one hand, my Marantz in the other. My heart was racing - a foot away from me was the 2nd most powerful man in the UK, it was quite strange seeing him in the flesh. The other press asked their questions and I bit my lip - eventually I just shouted out mine. He turned, looked down at me (since I was waist level for him) and answered it! I've never felt so nervous, but ultimately proud about questioning a politicial heavyweight before.

The press conference was over after that, I turned to Emma and I couldn't stop grinning. I was there, doing what the national news crews do every day - and I loved it! When can I do it again?

Day in the life of a journo: Meeting the Westborough Baptist Church

The phone was in silent mode, I had my three peice suit on, the posters behind me had gone from the bedroom walls and I was sweating slightly into my shirt. I was ready for their call.

I think it's safe to say that this was the most daunting interview I had ever faced. I'd seen the documentary that Louis Theroux did - "The Most Hated Family In America" it proudly proclaimed. The documentary was an overnight success, bringing them a tonne of publicity. They had a Supreme Court judgement in their favour of freedom of expression, and even President Bush changed the law against them protesting so close to funerals. To say I was nervous was an understatement.

So the call came in, my back stiffened and I pressed answer call. Sat on the screen opposite me somewhere a few thousand miles away was their media spokesperson Steve Drain. He smiled and we launched in to our interview.

My impressions of him (as a representative of the group were this). Utter bemusement. Honestly, if I did not know what he stood for in life, I could have been chatting to anybody on the street. He struck me as a remarkably intelligent man, indeed he did confuse me at one point with a reply to one of my questions. Like all members, he believed that we would all perish in hell for not turning to God.

"Every day we get death threats, our church has been bombed, our church has been set on fire. People have used their powers to take our jobs, to take our children away from us. I've had people come up to me and threaten to assault me with a 2 X 4 iron bar".

It was an utterly bizarre situation, because if I didn't know he was a member of the WBC he could have been anyone. I told him about my time in the USA, about my record collection and in turn he talked about his appreciation for British rock. He asked me about Jacqui Smith, and how she banned him from entering the UK - and all the time I didn't detect any hint in his voice that he was insincere about what he was talking about.

Steve used to do philosophy at university so his arguments were airtight in his own way. I think the main thing that struck me was that he was so nice. Don't get me wrong, I could never sympathise with their own views - but I thought (and I told him) "I expected you to be this monster. Everybody knows the views that you hold, but I didn't expect you to be so polite and courteous towards me". I did ask him "Why haven't you told me I'm going to hell yet?" His reply was "Because you've been respectful in the way you approached me, but you should always know that there's an implication in everything I'm saying to you there".

It's left me with a feeling that perhaps good and evil isn't necesarily evident. Here was a man who admitted to having thousands of people following him on twitter "just to send him abuse", yet he told me what a polite and respectful man I was, and how much he loves our music scene.

The saying "never judge a book by it's cover" comes to mind here...

Ever feel like you're born in the wrong era?

I've been thinking this over a lot recently since Saturday night's "Take Me Out".



Viewers of the show will remember this chap (and the strange woman he ended up going with)

Immediately after this show was broadcast my facebook was flooded with friends telling me how this chap will either be me in 25 years, or how I am him now.

It got me thinking - I really do believe I was born in the wrong era. I buy 78rpm records rather than downloading songs via iTunes, I own a pocketwatch, and my room is full of vintage posters.

I do my hair in a sharp side part with plenty of pomade and I feel more comfortable in a suit than I do in a hoodie and jeans which would be normal atire for most students.

Yet - most people my age seem to treat me as a bit of an oddball. I'm that strange kid stuck in the past and I apparently have the mental age of a 70 year old man (as I'm always told that)

Is it now no longer acceptable to try to be a gentleman wherever possible, or am I doomed to a life of eccentricity with people who share similar tastes? I seriously hope it isn't the latter, because I can remember what things people said about SU President Daniel Hutchinson...

My brush with Japanese state television

WOW. That's all I really can say about today. I'm tired and drained but my god did I have the best day of my life so far.

It's still not sunk in that I'm going to feature in a programme broadcast to a country with a population of 120,000,000 people.

This morning I was tired and grouchy. I was also incredibly nervous - it's not every day something like this happens. So the crew arrived, with a mass of equipment. HD cameras, light panels, highly sensitive microphones and the like. As a journalism student I was a bit awed by the value of items now in my house.

Eventually they set up and began filming various shots of my gramophone, the record itself - and an interview with me. I don't think I was quite prepared for some of the questions they asked me!


After that, I went into uni then they came to film me around the university, and me at work - complete with Jonathan Creswell and Charlotte Reid as my friends walking around and laughing about various things.

Seeing the pros at work was a great thing - they were incredibly detailed and got some really amazing shots out of an otherwise boring gramophone and myself. I even got an origami handkerchief as a thank you - I just can't wait for the tape of the documentary in May!

PS - Given the amount of media appearances I've had lately, I think I could get used to it. It's damn good fun being in front of the camera!

It's times like these I remember why I chose my course...

Today was a very emotionally draining one. I got up at 5:30, and at 7am was on a train to Grantham to carry on my coverage about the "Keep Safe" project.

Basically it's a scheme whereby stickers are put in shop windows for people with learning difficulties recognise a place to go if they experience any trouble or are victims of crime.

It had got to about 2pm, I hadn't eaten since my breakfast at 6am and I was tired already - but I was finishing up. I decided to interview one of the representatives of the project from Hertfordshire where the project has been tested. This lady has learning difficulties, but gave some excellent responses to my questioning.

My heart began to tear when she said quite plainly "People think of us as children, people with learning difficulties". I bit my lip and continued the interview. The lady continued to relate about how she had been assaulted in more ways than one by her family members , neighbours and had abuse thrown at her by people in the street all because of her learning difficulty.

I was so disgusted. She genuinely was one of the nicest people I've met, I got on so well with her and she was so upfront with her responses. The smile never left her face and she really seemed interested in what I had to say.

There is however a silver lining to her tale. She was awarded the MBE for her services to disabled charities, and she told me quite a few funny stories about the times she visited Buckingham Palace for various receptions!

I left the day feeling quite torn inside. Part of my degree is finding people like this to interview, and as I always say - everyone has a story to tell. Unfortunately those stories aren't always the best, and I really can't help but feel for the pain that some of the people I speak to have been through.

I just hope I can do her story justice with my radio package, after hearing her tale I feel compelled to.

The next few days as a mute...

The lovely James and myself at the Masquerade Event

For those people who had the pleasure of talking to me (or saying things to me and me replying by writing on my Blackberry) last night, they will have quickly realised that I've become a mute.

On Thursday I was struck by an illness which left me bedridden for the next 3 days. Fast forward to Saturday. I was all but recovered however my throat was a little sore. Since I was determined to make it to the LGBT event that night I took some paracetamol and went out sober.

It turns out that the shouting I did in there to be heard (and also the time I spent on the door out in the cold) didn't do any wonders for my voice - I am now mute.

The likelyhood is that I will be mute tomorrow, and I think I will stick to not talking much on Tuesday if possible to allow my voice to recover.

I have to say, it is a rather weird feeling. Communication is one of those things that you take for granted - I found it incredibly frustrating last night when I could only communicate with facial gestures and over emphasized hand signals. You feel very cut off from the world. Taking it all in but not giving your input, and having to wave your hand in front of your neck and mouth the words "NO VOICE" quickly becomes annoying.

I'm thankful this happened over a weekend and not during the week. Obviously a lot of broadcast journalism relies on the voice!

Looking to the future with a few less commitments!

Photo: h.koppdelaney

I've been doing a lot of thinking recently about what I'd like to do with my final year at university. Looking at the calendar, it's a trifle depressing that I am past the half way part of my degree - I only now seem to have adjusted to university life!

One of the harder choices I've had to make is whether to re run for the SU again. This has been an especially difficult choice given how much I have enjoyed myself this year. I can honestly say that being a part of the organisation has been one of the best things to happen to me whilst at university, and I will miss it when I go.

It's little things like being in the know, walking in the office and saying hello to Amanda, having people approach you and helping them out - all of them are things that I love and I will miss it next year.

So why do it? Why leave something I love? If I could stick an extra 5 hours in to every day I would have re-run for elections but I simply don't have the time. I am burdened enough as it is this year, and I'd prefer a year of being a proper student journalist rather than a half assed student journalist with too many other commitments.

I think I will give up writing for Bullet magazine, and instead try out something different - newspaper writing for The Linc. I fancy something a bit serious and gritty. Don't get me wrong - feature writing is fun but I'd rather try out my hands on something else whilst I'm here.

Of course, you can't keep me away from getting involved with stuff. I imagine I'll still have some role to play with the LGBT, I will still attend student council and help the union in any way I can - it's the least I can do for them after all the help and development it's given me.