MAJ Archives

A journalist's profile, stories and career in the field of journalism. Know a journalist who should be profiled here? Send an e-mail to Janet E. Bardon.

November 12, 1999
Jasmine Miller
Managing Editor, IE Money
jmiller@iemoney.com

In 1991 I was at Ryerson, making up for a misspent youth by pursuing a general arts program, a "qualifying year" as it was called, for people who didn't actually graduate from high school or who, like me, finished with marks too low to get into any legitimate post-secondary institution. At the end of the program, all of us were more or less required to pick a major (at that time, no one went to Ryerson for a general arts degree). On the basis of some forgettable essays I wrote, my English professor suggested I write the entrance exam for the journalism program. He just mentioned in passing, in a hallway or coming out of the cafeteria or something. "Think about it," he said. I didn't have another plan and, honestly, I was a bit of a follower, so I was happy to take the suggestion as an order.

Really, I always wanted to be "Quincy, MD". Remember him? That TV show in the 70s/80s that was on before the Bionic Man and after Charlie's Angels on school days. He was a coroner and a lawyer or some equally impressive double-whammy professional. Whatever he was, he used a microscope, a scalpel and a big car with a removable police siren to solve murders. According to my high school guidance counsellor, however, Quincy also had years of math and science at a post secondary level, subjects I'd zoned out of some time in grade 9 and officially cut from my schedule by grade 10 or 11. So I settled: Today, I'm "Jasmine, ME".

It wasn't a huge sacrifice; I enjoy my real job as the managing editor of IE Money. (Despite the magazine name, my math ignorance is not a handicap. Go figure.) The people I work with and for have decades of varied professional experience (which makes spending so much time together more interesting than it would otherwise be). I've learned lots about magazine production being the ME here and, before this, at Canadian Business magazine. Most notably: Getting a magazine out on time is a lot like being a stay at home mom. If, in 3 hours, you can get 12 kids to 6 events using one mini-van, you're hired. (It helps if, at the end of the process, there are no tears or broken bones and everyone still likes you, but, really, that's not absolutely necessary.)

I didn't learn that part at university. I just picked it up after having to regularly deflect the legitimate rantings of production people screaming for copy that was late. The domino effect started something like this: the writer can't get a key interview on time, she needs an extension. After reading it over and over again, the editor wants more work done on that (late) first draft. The fact-checkers can't start their work on time; they're four days late at this point and the interview subject is out of town for a week. The proofreader ends up with about 12 minutes to read the 3,000 word feature (so St. Catharine's is spelled wrong). The people who work at the film house are waiting for copy and have started charging time-and-a-half while they do so. The film will be late. The cab to take it to the printer, which is in a suburb with a different area code, will cost as much as the rent on a bachelor apartment. I've also learned that, usually, none of this is anyone's fault. I mean that. Everyone has the same goal - a good magazine on the newsstands on time - but we all have different priorities. And, by developing the stay-at-home-mom skills, there are ways to cut corners and meet the deadlines. Everyone will still be exhausted and cranky though.

Before I learned all this, when I was safely cocooned at Ryerson, I had the benefit of professors who were engaged and available. Not very sexy descriptors, I know, but really important for students. They were also fabulous people who became mentors and friends. And who got me every single job I've had since graduation. (Journalism positions aren't generally advertised. It's all word of mouth. So don't ever p*** anyone off.)

My professional life isn't so exciting, really. (But then neither is my personal life, so maybe I'm just not a very exciting person.) I haven't been inspired or terrified by an interview, except, maybe once or twice, by the possibility that the interviewee would be way smarter than me and see me for the fraud I thought I was. That doesn't mean it isn't a career worth having. I've become more than acquaintances with many of the people I've profiled. Probably because I've been able to cover "human" stories: a 16 year old mother of triplets, a 35 year old mother of a severely disabled preteen; lawyers with brilliant senses of humour...

My career hasn't really had "highlights", though. I'll never be a name reporter / editor / journalist type (the world can only support so many of those anyway and I think we're at capacity now). Although every writer gets more than a little thrill from seeing their own by-line (I'm no exception), that's a very personal kind of highlight, not very widely applicable.

I honestly don't have an opinion about the biggest challenge facing journalists today. I suppose it's different for everyone: are you reporting at a daily paper where people are being laid-off, bought out and fired in droves? a monthly magazine where ad sales are quickly and mysteriously drying up? a dot com that's just struggling to make the numbers look good for whoever cares about that sort of thing? The short answer, as always: it depends. But I wonder if those aren't just the challenges of working. Period. In any field. I'm not qualified to give advice about an industry I've only been in for a few years. In fact, I ask for advice whenever the opportunity presents itself (meaning dinner parties, coffee breaks, line-ups, you name it). Still, I'm glad that English professor didn't whisper something about engineering or fashion design.