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*Same starter prompt, new essay. Version 3. (Last one, I swear.) In this edition, we explore the possibilities of what an increasingly fractional workforce might mean for fresh-out-of-college graduates who are just entering today's market with journalism degrees. And how we might rethink a so-called "modern-day" apprenticeship.
“Each week, I tend to talk with 2-4 new ‘fractionally curious’ people about how to break into this type of lifestyle.”*
I’m holding court with a few senior leaders of the journalism program where I went to school, at an alumni event in the city that’s celebrating this year’s new graduates.
“Really?” I see the eyebrows raise around me. “What’s that?”
“Is that like consulting?”
“Or freelancing?” asks another, drawing a more natural parallel to a journalist’s typical career path.
“Sort of,” I continue. “But just a little more embedded. I actually get email addresses for these projects that I work on. It’s sort of like, longer-term projects, but only for a fraction of your time. So today, I’ve got most of my work in the tech and startup sector, but you can imagine a world where someone wants to spend ⅔ of their working time earning money from work in the tech sector, but maybe ⅓ of their time managing a popular TikTok stream for sourdough bread starter tips and tricks.”
I’m met with highly skeptical looks. I’m worried I’m losing them.
“Journalists are particularly well-suited for this lifestyle,” I add. “So curious. Already so aware of the multi-faceted aspects of how the world comes together. Strong communicators. I wouldn’t be surprised if we see a lot more people looking to pursue portfolio careers in the future. Could be interesting to talk about this shift with the students.”
A little while later, someone comments how hard it must be to work on many disparate projects and ideas at once, how it’s probably not for everyone.
“Probably not,” I acknowledge. “But if you really think about it, that’s the exact frame of reference for a current student today. In many ways, I think going to school here is the best thing that prepared me to take on so many projects at once.”
“How do you mean?”
“Just look at the quarter system.”
The quarter system is the opinionated way that the school packs a semester’s worth of content into a 12-week quarter. As a result, everyone is always running around campus with their hair on fire, always in between midterms and finals, always behind on reading, always taking up classes in completely different areas at once.
It’s a lot of work, you get pulled in a lot of directions, but you learn how to get it done.
I’ll admit that it’s a little hard to imagine a recent college grad starting out their career, fresh-out-of-the-gate in a world of contract, freelance, or fractional work. Probably a bad idea, if I'm being honest.
In this country, so much of our well-being is tied up in having a full-time job, with health plan benefits, and a 401(k) to save for your future. Not to mention the true benefits that you get from things like early career mentorship, establishing role models, learning professional cultural norms, and picking up on many subtle cues about workplace communications that you can only really get from being around people more senior to you, on a regular, ongoing way.
But then again, journalists in particular are more acclimated to the so-called “freelancer” and “contributor” lifestyle than most. Many editing roles at major publications hinge upon the premise of overseeing a team of paid external writers and contributors. This group is uniquely equipped to manage an increasingly fractional labor force.
Maybe as a recent college graduate, you can think about finding a “starter job” or two before deciding whether to split off into fractional work. This, in a way, could be a more compelling, throwback to the modern-day apprenticeship. One that doesn’t just teach people how to get a job, but how to work like an owner.
Back then of course, the embedded nature of being an apprentice at a printing press or news shop always came underscored with the expectation that the apprentice would take that learned skill and apply it in their own entrepreneurial setting, in another city. One that didn't yet have a thriving newspaper business.
“How many of you have jobs so far?” I get right into the heart of things with a group of three newly minted journalism graduates.
Two out of three raise their hands.
I breathe a sigh of relief.
“How’d you find those jobs?”
“I got lucky,” volunteers the first. “I responded to a LinkedIn listing for an unpaid internship about a year ago. I worked at this fashion outlet remotely for free during the school year, and they decided to make me a full-time offer.”
My eyes narrow at the thought of unpaid work for a year.
“LinkedIn shouldn’t let people post jobs for unpaid interns anymore. What about you?”
“Oh I found this job on Handshake.”
“That’s the job matching app for students, right?”
“Yeah it’s sort of like LinkedIn, but maybe better for people early in their careers.”
“How are you kicking off your career? Also in journalism?”
“Actually it’s a job in private equity,” she shuffles her feet slightly. “I was a double major in poli-sci.”
The conversation pivots briefly while the third graduate asks for well-wishes from the other two on a final round interview she has with a sports media publication.
I know I shouldn’t ask, but I can’t help myself and go there anyway: “How well did you feel you were prepared to enter the job market with your degrees coming out of school?”
I’m met with blank stares.
I try again. “How did college prepare you for the workforce?”
They laugh a little to themselves as they fumble for a good answer.
The still-jobless graduate jumps in: “I mean, I guess I wish they had told us from like, freshman year or something that we needed to be thinking about building out our resumes and LinkedIns.”
I just nod politely and smile. Wouldn’t that be nice.
The trouble with helping people think about jobs or career is that you need to be in the mindset of a job-seeker in order to really internalize the advice.
This is the same problem for any coaching program. You can’t coach an executive who’s not ready to make a change. You can’t give someone a lesson on building a fundraising pitch deck and expect them to remember it until they’re actually fundraising.
And unless there’s a part of your brain that’s “always on” and considering this possibility that you might one day, sometime need to find a way to make money, you likely won’t spend your time scanning for ways to prepare yourself for the job market.
College programs, including the one where I went, have robust career services offices, jam-packed with resources, career counselors, and on-site professors and adjunct professors, who could (and likely did) give the basic advice, “Hey, maybe create a LinkedIn profile” to a student on campus.
But if someone tells you that when you’re halfway through freshman week orientation and your brain is wondering whether or not to confess to your new roommate that you busted her lamp after staying up too late drinking so-called “jungle juice” with the crew next door, it’s going to go in one ear and out the other.
When it comes to jobs and careers, I notice that, for most of us, we’re not looking until we’re really looking. And when we’re really looking, we get desperate. And doing anything from a state of desperation is never a good thing.
Which means we really need to solve for two problems at once:
Make sure places that work with pre-job-seeking groups of people in any capacity have the most accurate resources and recommendations available; and
Make sure people who are exposed to those programs are stepping in with a “growth mindset” attitude toward work from a way earlier starting point.
Easier said than done.
“Do you mind me asking, what was the most impactful part of your degree for you?”
“Oh, I’m probably a bad person to ask.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well I was in the 2009 spring graduating class. Tough time for journalists.”
“I see.”
“So I pivoted into tech.”
“We do still get a lot of people asking how we can better help graduates get jobs in the journalism industry.”
I know I shouldn’t do it but I can’t help myself and I just say it anyway:
“Why do you have to work in the journalism industry to use the skills of a journalist?” I begin. “Maybe the school can consider a rebrand or a reframe. Less pressure to graduate and then get a job in the journalism industry, more focus on repositioning the coursework taught and earned skills like learning the craft of a tried-and-true tradesman. Still journalism, but framed more like a ‘vintage degree.’”
I hear the words coming out of my mouth but it’s too late now to take them back.
I just referred to journalism as a vintage degree. To the alumni development lead. They are never inviting me back.
I know I sound like a broken record, but the world of work is changing. While I may not work as a journalist today, I use my journalism degree every single day and am eternally grateful for the robust academic rigor instilled in me from a young age. Graduating into an uncertain economy with strong communication skills has given me an incredible launchpad to enter many different industries over the past 15 years.
But it's unrealistic to expect a single school or program to magically place every graduate in an exact match job for that industry. While it's great for some journalism students to become journalists, it feels restrictive to expect everyone to fit into a single industry the same way. This doesn’t mean degrees don’t matter; it means we need better context.
Not everyone needs to work fractionally, but it’s important to acknowledge this as a very real (and previously impossible) possibility. Not everyone needs to be an entrepreneur, but I believe everyone should think a little more like one.
Yesterday, I spoke with someone who started her career as a talent agent in the entertainment industry. Today, she runs a high-profile startup accelerator. She took her skill as a people-centric person who could evaluate talent and adapted it to another industry—first as a tech recruiter, and now as a robust operator. She is crushing it.
In the end, it’s not just about finding a job—it’s about crafting a career that aligns with your passions and strengths. Whether you choose a traditional path or a fragmented, project-oriented approach is up to you. We need to encourage everyone to see the full board of what’s possible.
Collect this post as an NFT.
