Today at my internship, I went on my first two shoots: an interview and a red carpet event. I’m not allowed to mention specifics thanks to “the man,” but I’ll say what I can. Here’s how it went.
I had an absolutely incredible time. It was so awesome being in an environment that had such high energy and excitement, but was so relaxed at the same time. It felt like home. There was a lot of waiting and then running and then waiting. I loved watching everything and everyone get set up, observing people doing their job, being a peasant in the presence of greatness, and just experiencing how everything runs before and after a shoot. It’s amazing, and even more of a complex, down-packed science than I originally thought.
End dreamy rant.
As we were about to enter the back room to set up for the interview, the friendly lady who runs (the place that shall not be named) passed me. We had talked earlier, so I smiled at her and said hello again.
“You keeping busy?” I asked.
She laughed. “Always! You go on yet?”
“Not yet, soon though,” I said.
Then she said something along the lines of: “It must be great to be on-screen talent!”
If I could turn red—I would have. I laughed instead.
“No no no, I’m not the on-screen talent!” I pointed to the host from E! News. “That’s her. I’m just the intern!”
Then the most embarrassing thing happened.
Is there a name for second hand embarrassment from someone else, but towards you?
This woman SCREAMS,
(I’m not exaggerating)
“—JUST AN INTERN? JUST AN INTERN?!?!”
I get quiet. I have no idea where this is going, and the producer, the cameramen, and the host are all standing right behind me. She’s screaming (loudly but lovingly) about me being “just” an intern—which were my words—but totally and completely not in the way that she’s repeat-screaming them in this low-key, dimlight place.
“YOU’RE NEVER JUST AN INTERN!”
…not that i doubted it. I know I make a contribution, and I like to make a contribution. But I also know my place, and I diddddn’t exactly need this lady screaming it to make it look like I didn’t.
She proceeds to yell—
“YOU’RE NEVER JUST ANYTHING!”
And this was the moment I knew my lesson of the day.
Even though I much rather would have learned this lesson a little bit more quietly and maybe, like, not right in front of four very important people, she makes a point.
In case you didn’t already know it,
you’re never just anything.
You are important to this world, and someone needs you in some way, shape, or form.
Whatever puzzle you’re apart of—it’s not complete without you.
Whether it’s work, your family, your school, or your friends.
The world needs you.
So today, know this.
You’re never just.