The Shakespearean Tragedy of a Student Journalist

By Luella Coley

Two pathways, both alike in dignity
In fair university, where now we set our scene
From lecture halls to study sessions, dim
Where student scribes pursue uncertain dreams
One path is paved with promise, print, and praise
With bylines earned through sleepless nights and days
The other leads to endless job appeals,
Where youthful hopes grow quiet, thin, and green.

Between these routes, I pause, unsure which way,
To chase the pen, or choose the safer pay.

Our story begins, as many tragedies do, with ambition. A Russell Group university student stands at the edge of academic burnout, convinced she can outrun it. She enters her pursuit of journalistic glory with perfect confidence: full-time study, a part-time job born of necessity, and a student publication treated not as an extracurricular, but as the priority – a long-term investment.

She falls asleep brainstorming headlines and writes stories intended not for readers, but for a portfolio. Essays are quietly pushed aside in favour of articles, deadlines extended with the optimism that future success will excuse academic neglect.

Delusion, here, is bliss. There are bylines to admire, work in print… proof that the dream might just manifest. Rising to editor becomes a point of pride, but the time to write disappears, replaced by rewriting, responsibility, and the faint prestige of leadership. Somewhere along the way, a passion is exchanged for a role. Yet she refuses to abandon the imagined destiny that began it all, clinging to the belief that hard work alone will see her through.

Ambition, once internal, begins to look outward. Our heroine measures her progress not by effort, but against others. Each byline is weighed against another’s, and each opportunity is haunted by the suspicion that the door locked behind someone else.

She learns, slowly and bitterly, that effort is not the sole determinant. Around her, students speak casually of connections – family friends, internships secured through industry links, opportunities passed quietly without outreach. 

Meanwhile, cover letters and emails continue, sent to unreciprocating audiences. Daily LinkedIn searches reveal only unpaid internships: a paradox, a painful dead end. She refreshes inboxes and convinces herself that persistence will pay off. If she works harder, writes more, proves herself further, surely she will be discovered as the diamond in the rough she has already decided herself to be.

Deluded belief becomes ritual. More unpaid work. More late nights. More sacrifices. Fortunes reverse: the days of effortless grades and spontaneous inspiration slip away, replaced by the quietly mocking wrath of the green-eyed monster.

Her tragic flaw? Faith in a system that promises merit, yet rewards connection and the ability to work for free. Still, she refuses to stop her own undoing. More applications and more part-time work to make unpaid placements affordable. To put the dream to rest before exhausting every possible route would be to concede and abandon passion for pay.

Taking the long road is exhausting, knowing many of those who succeeded took a guided tour of the shortcut, and every step sees the dying destination of print journalism shrink into the distance. The mental torture wears on our heroine, and hubris is replaced by irreversible despair. 

And here, the story pauses… it is now time to make a decision. Do I continue on an uphill battle, or do I sacrifice the dream-job fallacy and settle on whatever presents itself, however long that takes. When the tragic hero takes the path of ruin, their demise is cruel and irreversible; am I to doom myself to that conclusion? After all, these violent delights have violent ends. 

How many more stories can a student journalist write before it’s time to let destiny run its course and leave the ink-stained hand to those who can afford to take the unpaid internships? Is this my tragedy to write, or is its Shakespearean cadence synonymous with the experience of thousands of ambitious youths who long for recognition in this painfully exclusive industry? 

And so, each of us ambitious students chasing the same fate are left to ask, 

To be or not to be (a journalist)… that is the question.