The only way one can truly master the craft of journalism is just by going out on the field and doing the job. Other areas of study you can learn in the classroom, but that’s not the case with journalism. For example, I personally never learned in the classroom how to handle a particular situation over the summer that almost put me behind bars.
It was another busy day at the celebrity news website I was interning at, and we were on a mission to break news about who the new ‘American Idol’ judges were going to be. Fortunately that day, a round of auditions was happening just a hop, skip, & a jump away from Manhattan— in New Jersey. One of my editors called me over to his desk— “Nicole, can you call over to the Izod Center and try to see if any of the judges are over there?”
My adrenaline began to rush through my body, I love to report breaking news. So I began to call around, asking to speak to security guards to see which judges were there. Some said Randy Jackson, others mentioned a Ryan Seacrest sighting, some said nothing. So I reported back to my editor & he made the executive decision that someone needed to go over there and find out the truth.
I excitedly volunteered and was on my way to New Jersey. What should have been no more than a 30-minute train ride lasted almost three hours. Finally, I made it to New Rutherford, New Jersey, in the middle of the afternoon on a very hot summer day.
The Izod Center was full of ‘American Idol’ contestants singing solo and in groups— exactly what the auditions look like on TV.
Security guards were stationed in front of every entrance, but I went over to see if I could get in anyways. And sure enough, I slithered on by behind a large group of gum-chewing, pre-teen girls that took way too long to flash the old security guards their wristbands.
And I was in! Totally feeling like I shouldn’t be, because I shouldn’t have been, but I was on a mission to report the truth & find out for myself who was in there.
Since it was the first round of auditions, there were hundreds and hundreds of people. Groups of American Idol-wannabes would line up in groups of about 20 in front of two to three unknown producers. They would sing, the producer would say ye or nay, and the following person would repeat the process. It was very quick and somewhat uneventful. But then I spotted Ryan Seacrest at the corner of my eye, he was preparing to do a pre-recorded segment for the show, so I went over to see if I could hear him.
I began video-taping him on my iphone in a group of fans, until a security guard came over and demanded everyone to show him their wristbands & tickets.
Uh oh… I didn’t have one, so I slyly made my way through the crowd to find a safe zone— and I thought I did. Minutes passed and it was time to go back and spy on Seacrest.
I found myself in another group of Seacrest fans, videotaping him, taking phtoos, and screaming him name. I thought this could be good raw footage for a story just on a preview of the auditions so I began talking to the people around me & having them sing on camera for me. (Mind you, people who WEREN’T reporters were doing the same thing– I thought I blended in!)
Well, next thing you know two big security guards and someone on the ‘American Idol’ staff began to congregate a few feet away from me.
I’m feeling nervous. They looked like they were talking about me. Then I hear…
“Hey you in the red skirt, come down here now.”
Oh no, my heart is pounding– I’m going to get arrested & kicked out, I’m so scared!!
So I rush down and they take me behind a staircase. “What’s your name & what media outlet are you from,” the blonde-haired lady demanded. She wore an ‘American Idol’ shirt, I’m pretty sure she was a producer.
My mind is racing– I felt like if I told them who I was & where I was from, I would be wronging HollywoodLife. But, obviously, there wasn’t any other choice.
“My name is Nicole and I’m an intern at Hollywoodlife.com,” I responded.
“How did you get in?,” the woman asked. “I just walked in,” I said. “Didn’t you notice that all other media organizations are outside?” she said. “Yes, but I just walked in and nobody questioned me.”
She asked me to delete everything I had on my flip-cam & to write my name down so if anything was leaked to the internet she’d know where it came from. Then the security guards escorted me out…
What a failed mission, I thought.
I felt pretty shaken-up and embarrassed, so I went to sit down and re-group.
Were they going to blacklist me to all other media outlets? Has my future in journalism been destroyed? Are my editors going to be mad at me? Did I betray HollywoodLife? These were all the thoughts swirling around my head.
I called the office to tell them what happened.
And here was the response.
“Nicole, you know you’re doing a good job when you’re getting kicked out of something.” He proceeds to tell me about a time he was once exiled from the Oprah Show as a young reporter.
That’s definitely a moment in my quest to becoming a journalist I’ll never forget. I think it raises another question though— how far do you go to seek the truth? When do you put your own safety first? But that’s for another post.
Later that day, when I arrived back in Manhattan, I walked down the wrong avenue after departing the subway and ironically ended up right in front of the New York Times building. I smiled, turned around, and shortly after I stumbled upon a filming for the movie Arthur, starring Russell Brand. This only happens in New York City.
Ah-hah! Here was Russell Brand, a major celebrity, right in front of me! Maybe I can get a quick Q&A with him in between takes and at least I won’t arrive to the office empty-handed. So I start conversing with his body guard, a big muscular man wearing a white shiny shirt & had a thick European accent. I explained my day (hoping he’ll feel sympathetic), & asked if Mr. Brand would take a short interview with me. Kindly, I’m denied.
And his response to my horrific day?
“That’s the life of a reporter, kid.”
