My crash course in journalism at UF’s Summer Media Institute

The sky bled into deeper shades of grey as the screen stubbornly displayed yet another delay for my flight back to New York. Outside the glass windows, a storm was gathering that rolled all flights into cancellations. My knees felt weak as I slumped onto the cold floor, staring at my gate intently. Hours had passed since the original departure time, leaving an impatient crowd at the airport. Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta Airport, intended as a mere layover, somehow turned into a portal dragging me back into my recollections of Florida’s warmth. 

Sunlight grazed the bright green grass as temperatures lingered in the high nineties on the campus of the University of Florida (UF). While the morning breeze yielded productivity, the humidity greatly challenged the limits of my hair. Sunscreen and a water bottle were my constant companions at UF’s Summer Media Institute (SMI), an immersive workshop for high school students interested in journalism and communications. From the bell tower to the newsrooms, this university seemed to have perfectly encapsulated the rhythm of journalism. From the moment the programme began on June 22, 2025, till its poignant ending on the 27th, I felt like a part of something bigger than myself, swept up in the drive of the newsroom. 

On the first day of the programme, the Interim Chair of UF’s Journalism Department and the director of SMI, Harrison Hove, provided individual guidance for everyone so that no question remained unanswered. It was clear that he knew each participant’s story, and I was no exception. He knew me at first glance and greeted me with what felt like a warm hug.

Over the next few days, the schedule is filled with hands-on reporting, filming, and pitching. From learning to navigate a professional video camera to building a news report of our own, this experience shaped my understanding of media. My chosen elective out of the handful of choices, Broadcast News Reporting, allowed me to understand the background of news reports. My teammate, Allan, and I produced our own segment on students’ first-time dorm experiences. We started off by pitching our idea to Kalisha Whitman, our professor, who helped us develop it from words to vision. We walked around the torrid campus, shooting interviews and capturing footage, and spent the nights editing, fueled with nothing but passion (and maybe a few cans of energy drink). 

Beyond the teachings of journalism, the current UF undergraduates working as student volunteers (Gator-Aides) let us take a glimpse into their experiences. They shared their high school journeys and reasons behind choosing UF, and even journalism as a whole. One Gator-Aid, a sports journalism major who initially considered broadcast journalism, described how her interests evolved during her first days at UF. It left me wondering if my own interests would change once I start college. The Gator-Aides’ stories made my path forward feel less abstract and more attainable. 

By the dawn of our last day at SMI, Allan and my news report was complete and ready for broadcasting. That afternoon, in an auditorium brimming with bittersweet farewells, each group’s work flickered across the screen. Reports, weather forecasts, talk shows, interviews and other edited packages played one after another, transforming hours of work into something tangible. Applause followed each segment, not out of politeness but true appreciation of each other. Every late-night edit had led to that moment.

A roar of applause broke my thoughts and brought me back to the chaotic airport of Atlanta. I lifted my head to look at the window and found the horizon retracting to the colours of dawn.

Just a few weeks earlier, I had walked out of my last O Level examination at S F X Greenherald International School with an uncertain mind and unsure of the person I wanted to become. But somewhere between newsroom debates, late-night edits and unfamiliar cities, something had settled within me. I let out a sigh as the screen finally displayed my flight’s boarding call. Just like the sky, I had shifted into a different version of myself, a more seasoned self. And when I stepped onto the plane, I knew that I was ready. For New York, for journalism, and for anything else that followed. 

The author is a junior at CIMS, New York.