This weekend was an insanely eventful one, but the greatest thing was heading back to the Cal State Fullerton campus for the 50th anniversary of my campus paper, The Daily Titan. Some of my best college memories were in this crazy newsroom, filled with wacky personalities and hilarious antics between the editorial and advertising staffs. And members of the paper from the '60s through the '00s were all there to represent.
I walked across the campus with my friends from when I was on the Titan, looking at all the crazy new buildings that have been developed since I left campus (complete with the Student Recreation Center and its rock wall). But coming to the Titan Student Union was like a homecoming – reminding me of days even before I transferred to Cal State Fullerton, when I was competing for the Journalism Association of Community Colleges. I felt as if I had never left my beloved university.
I entered the Titan Theater, where I had gone to watch movies on campus when I was in my junior year, where there was a panel happening. They were, obviously, talking about the horrible job situation that’s been going on in the journalism world. The New York Times writer that was moderating the panel, Mark, was mentioning the layoffs that recently took place at his paper, whereas Daniel, a writer for Reuters, discussed all the great job opportunities in the financial markets.
But then Terry, an editor for AP in Central Florida, said something that made a lightbulb flash in my head.
“There will always be a market for storytellers,” he said in his deep baritone. “As long as you are able to tell a story, you’ll be able to go far and be able to translate it to any medium.”
Suddenly, it dawned one me. I realized I had forgotten myself in all the insanity of being jobless. I lost myself through the years of fighting to be a journalist, and being told that I wasn’t good enough and that I would never make it. I forgot that, once, I was good enough. And it was still inside me.
After all, didn’t my father always tell me that my greatest strength was being able to tell a story when no one else could? It was a sentiment echoed by one of my favorite professors at Cal State Fullerton, Professor Jeff Brody, who discovered that the girl who came barging into his class a week after it began was actually able to produce some pretty good narrative. It was a talent we worked on after that and I learned to succeed at. Not everyone liked Brody, but he was the first person to really believe in my abilities. Unfortunately, he was one of the only ones.
As I hit the real world, I found people who didn’t understand. They didn’t get it. I worked for Metro, which wanted PR pieces, not really stories. The Jewish Journal was not much better in that respect.
Then came The Signal, where on a regular day basis I was berated and treated like a piece of dirt by my boss. He said that I was horrible and that it was only because of him that I wasn’t fired. I don’t think I realized until later that this was just abuse on his part. He was later fired -- for sexual harassment.
A worse experience came at the next job, where I was also berated regularly. Doesn’t help that the boss didn’t think much of my faith, to the point where he threatened not to release me before sunset on Yom Kippur, meaning that I wouldn’t even be able to eat before the fast began. As I quit, his parting words to me were, “Oh, so I guess you’re going to be marrying some rich guy and having 20 babies.” He also told me to go back to journalism school.
I eventually became an editor, and found that when I wasn’t being constantly talked down to by a boss, but rather encouraged and told how to improve, that I thrived. But my layoff delivered such a dramatic blow that it was hard to determine whether I should continue on the crazy path that is journalism.
But the truth is that I have come to the conclusion that I should never give up. This had been my dream for so long, and I feel like I should see this dream to the end. I have always had such a hard time doing it, but in this time of change, I don’t see why I shouldn’t try now. I guess I was so sick of being treated like a piece of dirt that I gave up. But as my father always said to me, “You can do it.” I know I can. And I will never quit. I will never give in. I am going to be an editor and journalist, and I’m going to do what it takes. Mama, let’s just say that I’m coming home again, and I’m falling in love all over again.
And on that note, here is a recipe for Italian Tuna Peppers. They are pretty tasty, and a show that you can do anything in the kitchen – even rework a recipe (traditionally, stuffed peppers are supposed to be a meat and rice thing, but no more!).
ITALIAN TUNA PEPPERS
4 sweet peppers, any color (see Quick Tip 1)
1 can albacore tuna
2 cups cooked spaghetti
5 basil leaves (see quick tip 3)
2 cloves garlic
½ cup parmesan cheese
¼ cup olive oil
½ cup mozzarella cheese, shredded, plus additional for topping
Salt and pepper
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
Combine the spaghetti, olive oil, and cheeses into a bowl and mix. Drain the tuna and put in the bowl. Meanwhile, mince the garlic and chop the basil and stir in with the spaghetti mixture. Season with salt and pepper. Set aside.
Wash the peppers and cut off the tops, removing all the seeds. Fill the peppers with the pasta mixture and put them into a deep baking dish. Put additional cheese on top of the peppers. Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes until top is golden brown. Serve hot.
Quick Tip 1: Any type of sweet pepper can work here, but the main condition is that it should be able to stand up straight. When you pick you peppers, make sure that the bottoms are flat enough so that they can hold the filling and not topple over.
Quick Tip 2: This dish can work just as well with cut-up soy patties or crumbles in lieu of tuna.
Quick Tip 3: I love the flavor of fresh basil, but the problem is that you have to use it as fast as you can before it goes bad. If you don’t want to bother, dried basil can work just as well.
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