Kat Webb was in India over spring break, on a study abroad trip with fellow yoga studies minors and religious studies students, when she got the email: The remainder of Utah State University’s classes for the semester would be moved online due to the recently named pandemic.
“It was like the wind got knocked out of me,” said Webb, who was a senior. “Obviously, I was glad I got to go on my trip still — because if we’d been scheduled to leave even a few days later, our trip would have been canceled entirely — but I also felt numb about not returning to life as normal for my last few weeks as an Aggie.”
But there was yet a bigger gut punch — her future as a journalist was in question, along with every other college student with similar aspirations. While jobs in print media have been declining for years, newspapers have taken an even harder hit since the outbreak of the coronavirus, especially smaller, local shops.
Poynter is keeping a running list of newspapers that have folded due to the COVID-19, and the tally is more than 30. Dozens more around the country have cut print days, placed employees on furlough or announced layoffs. But that may not be enough to keep them afloat.
On March 12, universities around Utah started to transition classes online and asked students to head home to finish the semester there, if possible. Campuses became ghost towns and college newsrooms closed up — but that didn’t mean they were halting operations.
Like many reporters around the country, student journalists had to figure out how to cover their own community’s stories remotely.
The Utah Statesman usually prints a weekly version on Tuesdays, but it stopped printing physical copies and instead started sending out an e-version along with the weekly newsletter on Tuesday mornings.
The Daily Utah Chronicle at the University of Utah also moved to a virtual edition for its weekly issue. But Brigham Young University’s Daily Universe kept the same deadlines and press and distribution schedule for its print edition.
(Francisco Kjolseth | The Salt Lake Tribune) Reporter Kat Webb, left, checks in with Linnea Leonard at Utah Public Radio on the campus of Utah State University in Logan during a brief visit on Friday, May 29, 2020. When COVID-19 shut down campus in March, Webb was sent home like everyone else, where she now produces her reporting pieces and struggles with the uncertainty of a journalism career.
Of course, that was just through the end of the semester, as most student media operations slow down during the summer. But depending on how the next couple of months play out and whether or not students are allowed back on campus, student journalists may have to continue to report remotely this fall.
Jacob Sorensen, director of student media at the U., said he believes the campus shutdown came at an unfortunate time.
“Our students were already on spring break and I feel like getting into the mentality of an online production process was difficult,” Sorensen said. “There were also other things impacting our students — housing, outside jobs, an earthquake. … It felt like it took us a good 10 days of encouraging, cajoling, asking and working with students for us to get right mentally. Even then, we had some delays and things fall through the cracks.”
Out of the newsroom, and out of sorts
Suddenly, students were back home all over the country — and even internationally — without much time to get their bearings and learn their new normal. One of the biggest difficulties all three college newsrooms faced was having to work without in-person interaction.
Steve Fidel, director of the Daily Universe, said using Zoom for daily editor meetings has helped keep the group connected, but the newsroom has lost the usual social interactions. Instead of working together where he could ask someone a quick question, the staff has moved to group texts.
However, he said, he’s been “stunned by the incredible quantity, quality and variety of stories” the staff has produced.
“I can’t think of a time when I’ve had to live so much of the story we’re covering, or how much of the story we’re covering is part of so many people’s day-to-day lives,” he added. “I’m trying to take the advice I give to family and friends: Take pictures and screenshots of everything you see that’s different. We’ll be at the ‘new normal’ before you know it. Memes, pandemic jokes, poignant stories, save it all.”
While college can be stressful enough, add in a pandemic — and a horribly timed earthquake — and it’s more important than ever to check in on each other. Because just about all communication is now digital, Sorensen said, it’s been harder to pick up on signs that a student is struggling.
“Even Zoom meetings or phone calls make it difficult to pick up on signs a student might need more help,” Sorensen said. “But we have connected some students to counseling opportunities, directed them to resources on campus where they can potentially find the help they need. And we’ve tried to stay positive, adjust our expectations and make sure we are checking regularly on students where we had previously identified needs for support and help.”
Then there are those who not only were jolted by leaving the newsroom, but had to process the loss of their final semester and last goodbyes they had hoped to have.
“I remember one night, like the week before everything shut down, we all went and got pizza after the night we designed the paper,” former Statesman news editor Alison Berg said, “and we talked about how we hoped school would be canceled [as every student hopes at times], but had no idea what storm was coming.
“Four days later, school was online, everyone was leaving campus and our whole lives were being turned upside down.”
No one walked across a stage to receive their diploma. Students didn’t hang around dorms, helping each other pack at the end of the semester. There were no more campus parties. There was no closure.
“This was my last semester and it was really difficult,” Berg said. “You imagine your last year of college to be filled with ‘lasts’ and a series of goodbyes to people you may never see again who were such an instrumental part of this formative part of your life, and instead they’re all leaving so suddenly and you can’t even give them one last hug or say a real goodbye.”
Uncertain futures
Going home early also robbed many aspiring journalists of opportunities to help them move into professional newsrooms. Any upcoming job fairs or added learning opportunities were canceled. Any last-minute networking events were scrapped.
Jenny Goldsberry, who just graduated from BYU and worked at the Daily Universe during her final semester, was hoping to still be able to rub elbows with various media contacts through the end of her collegiate career. But she had to do without.
While she’s tried reaching out, Goldsberry believes the current situation makes it easier for people to ignore an email or phone call. And with fewer jobs available, Goldsberry had to take a job at Sprouts.
“I was hoping to leave college with a notebook full of personal contacts and instead I feel like I have no real rooted relationships, which makes it look like I have nothing to bring to the table at a new job,” Goldsberry said.
“Even past newsrooms I’ve worked in, who loved me and gave me glowing recommendations, can’t afford to hire me,” she said. “I’ve had a few invites to freelance for these places, but no permanent position. I’m working as an in-store shopper at a local grocery store now to make ends meet. I can’t live off of a few freelance jobs.”
Fellow BYU graduate Lauren Lethbridge has always been scared of not having job security in a newsroom. But the pandemic has made all types of jobs even harder to find, she said.
“I’m more scared by the lack of jobs all around,” Lethbridge said. “I’ve of course spent a lot of time applying to any jobs that have to do with writing and editing, not just journalism, and it’s scary how many have just been completely dissolved mid-hiring process or companies that just abandoned hiring.”
(Francisco Kjolseth | The Salt Lake Tribune) Recent Utah State University graduate and reporter Kat Webb talks with her son Hendrix Twitchell, 4, as she looks over one of her deadline reporting pieces related to COVID-19 and the Navajo Nation on Friday, May 29, 2020. When the coronavirus shut down campus in March, the recent graduate found herself producing, writing and editing from home. Now she struggles with the uncertainty of a journalism career, currently working as a part time reporter for Utah public radio. A job that ends in a month.
Webb, who recently graduated with a bachelor’s in journalism with a print emphasis, is currently a reporter at Utah Public Radio in Logan, but the job comes to an end in June. She’s hoping to find a reporting gig in the area after that.
“One of my favorite professors had told us months ago that there will always be jobs in journalism, always be local papers to report for, but we may have to be willing to move for them,” Webb said. “I don’t have that option. I have substantial roots in Logan because it’s where my partner’s career is based at the moment, and we have lots of family nearby to help with our 4-year-old son.”
Webb feels as if everything is in limbo now, and she’s trying to focus on one day at a time as she awaits word on a recent potential job offer.
“I’m scared of the uncertainty, but that’s nothing compared to the knowledge that I may have to take something that’s not a journalism job,” Webb said. “I picked this major because I love it.”
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