THEY say news is the first rough draft of history, but for an intern at SunStar Davao, it felt more like being tossed into a sea of ink and told to swim toward a shore you cannot yet see. I arrived at the newsroom not with the seasoned confidence of a veteran reporter, but with the quiet, trembling curiosity of an outsider. My first days weren’t defined by the thrill of the scoop, but by the heavy, echoing weight of the unknown.
I was a collection of unformed sentences and hesitant questions, standing in a space where every second is accounted for and every word carries the weight of public trust. It was here, amidst the rhythmic clatter of keyboards and looming deadlines, that I began my most difficult assignment: learning patience and discovering a resilience I didn’t know I possessed.
In the world of media, we often romanticize the "hustle"—the breaking news, the adrenaline, the front-page glory. But the reality of an intern’s life is often found in the spaces between those moments. It is found in the waiting.
Patience isn’t just about sitting still; it’s about how we behave while we wait for the story to break, for the source to call back, or for the editor’s red pen to finish its work on our draft. Some days, the silence felt heavy, and I questioned whether I was making any impact at all. I had to learn that growth is often silent. Like a seed beneath Davao’s soil, just because you don’t see the sprout doesn’t mean the roots aren’t deepening.
SunStar taught me that resilience is the ability to stay tethered to your purpose even when the "unknown" feels like an endless fog. I had to wait for my voice to find its strength—and in that waiting, I found my spine.
The most profound discovery I made wasn’t a headline or a lead; it was a version of myself I hadn’t met yet. I found a person who could stand firmly and independently in the face of uncertainty. For a long time, I relied on the validation of others to know if I was standing straight. But the fast-paced, high-stakes environment of a reputable news outlet doesn’t have time to hold your hand. You are expected to show up, research, ask the hard questions, and return with a story in hand.
There were moments full of doubts. I would stare at a blank document and feel the weight of the "unknown" pressing down. Am I doing this right? Do I belong here? Yet, SunStar Davao has a way of tempering you. It taught me that doubt is not a dead end; it’s a signal that you care about the quality of your work.
Independence is earned in the "unknown." You discover your strength when navigating paths you haven’t walked before. Firmness comes from within. You can shiver with nerves on the inside, but as long as your feet are planted and your eyes on the truth, you are winning.
I learned to walk into a room where I knew no one, armed with nothing but a notepad app and a shaky sense of courage, and leave with a narrative. Even if my hands trembled, my feet were capable of holding their ground.
To anyone standing where I once stood—on the threshold of a daunting experience, feeling like an impostor in a room full of experts—hear this: The unknown is your greatest ally. Don’t fear the questions that keep you up at night. Don’t be discouraged by the silence of waiting. Use that time to sharpen your tools.
Resilience is not a loud, crashing wave; it is the steady, persistent lap of the tide that reshapes the shore. You are capable of standing independently. You are capable of navigating the fog of your own doubts. With patience and openness to the lessons, you’ll find that you aren’t just surviving the internship—you are being forged by it.
I leave SunStar Davao not as the same person who walked in. I leave with a clearer voice, a sturdier resolve, and profound gratitude for the "test of patience." The unknown no longer looks like a dark room; it looks like a blank page, waiting for me to write the next chapter. I am standing firm. I am standing independently. And for the first time, I am perfectly okay with not having all the answers—because I know I have the resilience to find them.
Thank you, SunStar Davao, for teaching me that the best way to predict the future is to have the courage to write it yourself.
- Justeene Sayson