MY TIME at SunStar Davao was short, but the impact was what I call a "late-burn effect"—an experience that didn't just hit me all at once, but grew warmer and deeper the more I immersed myself in the work.
I remember my first week, walking into the office with my co-interns and feeling that immediate sense of being overwhelmed. Seeing the rows of awards and recognitions in the conference room, I had a sudden, sharp realization: “Ay, dili man diay ni basta-basta atong agency.” Before this, SunStar was just a familiar name that popped up on my social media timeline. I used to joke that media outlets were just professional chismosa, but I say that now with the highest respect. Being a "nosey" storyteller is a gift. Realizing I was part of that machinery made me understand that I was exactly where I belonged.
Early on, I chose to handle social media tasks. I thought it would be "chill"—that maybe the media life wasn't as exhausting as people claimed. But that naive impression didn't last past the first week.
By the second week, the "late-burn" truly began. The tasks piled up, and I found myself interviewing people who actually mattered to the community. I learned that in this industry, you aren't just an intern—you are your output. If you write, you exist. If you don't, you're invisible. There is a specific kind of magic—a real "butterfly in the stomach" feeling—that comes with seeing your name printed under a story.
I felt so seen by the editors; they found a way to publish my work and gave me credit even when my drafts needed a lot of "major revisions." That validation made me hungry. I started chasing stories, following co-interns to coverages, and doing whatever it took to see my byline again.
The most important lesson, however, was independence. I noticed interns at other agencies were often "babied" or constantly shadowed by their supervisors. At SunStar, our mentors let us find our own way. They watched us, yes, but they let us stumble so we could learn how to stand. I didn't feel envy toward the "guided" interns; I felt a sense of pride. I wasn't just a student anymore—I was working and living like a real member of the press.
In my final week, covering the sports beat, everything clicked. I was no longer doubtful when communicating with strangers. I woke up excited for the next press conference or public hearing. I fell in love with the rush, and it makes my heart heavy to let it go.
To the team—Ma’am Cristina, Ma’am Marianne, Ma’am Gillianne, Sir Ralph, Sir Ezra, and the entire staff—thank you for not just giving me tasks, but for giving me the space to grow. You didn't just teach me how to write; you taught me how to be independent. That is a gift I will carry for the rest of my life.
I leave SunStar with a full heart and a clear direction. I’m taking the "Sun" and the "Star" with me as I continue chasing my dreams in the media world. KIMBERLY REPONTE
