The end of the Master Plan

I had a girlfriend my first year of college, and she called it the Master Plan.

Whenever more work came up, she’d chalk it up to the Master Plan. When I couldn’t think or talk about anything but my reporting; yep, it’s the Plan.

What she called the Master Plan was the course I’d charted for myself to go from zero to pro in my four, short college years. It was about working at the papers in Columbia, scoring internships and beefing up my resume with references and awards. She loved to tease me about putting all my gas into this plan, and her mocking title has stuck with it ever since.

My Master Plan didn’t account for the incredible summers I spent in Maine and Utah or the Saturday night graveyard shifts in the Columbia Missourian newsroom. But the plan always ended with a shot at reporting for my hometown newspaper, The Kansas City Star.

Now I have that shot.

Today I turn 22 years old, and I couldn’t think of a better birthday present than to start the final stage of the Master Plan.

It’s an opportunity I’ve worked toward for a long time. The countless hours I poured into my work (and those initial stages of the Plan) have all built up to this summer and the chance to break in to my dream profession.

With some more hard work, I’m hoping that my short time at the Star can help further establish my reputation as a reporter and writer. When job applications come around at the end of the summer, I’ll be proud to turn in the Star’s banner atop my clips.

Maybe by the time it’s all over I’ll have charted myself a new course.

And perhaps instead of the old adage, “When one door closes, another opens,” it’ll become “When one Plan ends, another begins.”

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