I’m a journalist by trade, and maybe by nature. In the 6th grade I was the executive producer of our live broadcast Daily Morning Show, where students updated the school on events, lunch menus, and led the Pledge of Allegiance. It was my job to cast anchors for the show, write the script, come in early in the morning to operate the camera, and troubleshoot the minimal technical difficulties that a one-woman show could stir up. Later, I studied journalism at the University of Colorado and took a few internships at local newsrooms. “Interning” in modern newsrooms is funny situation, really. Newsrooms are so strapped for staff, being an intern really just means not getting paid to do the same amount of work. My first assignment was a general news story on a local gaza strip protest that overtook a main street in town. It was the first time I had actually tried writing for a public audience. It appeared on the front page. I was stunned. The experience of having potential and not being placed in the class is more common among students of color than it is among white students, how to write a summary for a research paper said marni bromberg, a senior research associate at ed trust! (So was my mom, who cut it out and put it on the refrigerator under four magnets to hold it up like a certificate. )

Two months in—even as an intern—I was required to write three or four stories per day.  All which seemed desperately rushed before the impending deadline rolled around near 6 o’clock. The routine was etched into my skin, my brain, and my impressionable self:

  • Read yesterday’s news in today’s papers to get caught up
  • Come up with at least one new story idea
  • Research the hell out of it
  • Track down people to interview on the topic
  • Gather all the notes, data, opinions
  • And then write write write write write write like mad hell.

I’d have about two or three hours to pump out the news before that word DEADLINE was more than a word —but the moment in time that I either kept or lost my job.

How Journalists Think About Deadlines

In newspapers, the idea of a deadline is a real thing. Like a book. Or more like a brick wall. You eventually run into it, and if you’re not prepared, it hurts. There’s a real product created everyday, and your story is it. It doesn’t matter how good you think your writing is, the paper must being printed: newspaper with newsprint. Having entered the professional world through the newspaper door, “deadline” has a different meaning to me compared to my peers. To me, the word deadline identifies a very particular moment in time, that is unchangeable. It’s hard to meet, and impossible to break. But my colleagues seem less prepared. Deadlines appear to be more like an “agile” release date. As a result of my steadfast mentality to meeting the deadline I urge my colleagues to move faster, work longer, keep going, whatever it takes to get “it” done. Personally, I’ve pulled all nighters for corporate work, followed by tall shots of espresso to pull off the next morning presentation. And have literally knocked on the front doors of peoples’ homes at 9pm to find them in order to get them to comment on a news story. There is no 9-5. It’s a deadline.

But in the less scrappy environment of “business,” my intuition of deadlines makes me into a perceived mini-monster. I’m the project manager who’s demanding, persistent, asking for updates, and easy to hate. But to my peers, colleagues (and others who I don’t know that just read that sentence and empathize with the person who has a project manager they can’t stand) I offer you this:

The reason I push you (hard) is because I believe in you.

I believe you can do it. You can make it, fix it, create it, finish it, and do everything you need to do to meet the deadline. Realistically, I demand from people who I believe have the capacity—and competency—to complete an assignment, even on deadline. And that is you.

“Type II Fun”

In rock climbing we have a term “Type II Fun. ” This is the kind of fun that sucks while you’re doing whatever activity it is, but later—in hindsight—it is one of your favorite memories. Like climbing a mountain in the rain. It’s cold and painful while you’re actively pushing through rain. But later, while you’re taking a hot shower, you remember the adventure as pretty darn awesome. That’s what meeting a deadline is like. Yes, it sucks while you are rushing against it. But it feels good, and empowering, to have pushed yourself to a place that maybe you couldn’t have done without the outside pressure of something else. I told this to a friend over dinner last night. And he said, “Why? Why does it matter if your blog post runs today or tomorrow? Does it really make a difference?”

Of course not. Not episodically. But it’s the principle. If a business builds its values on being OK with moving deadlines a little bit by little bit, pretty soon the year’s worth of productivity takes a heavy blow; its employees are held less accountable; and the personal growth a contributing member of the workforce could have had, is lessened. So now I implore you, dear LinkedIn network, meet the deadline. You might really enjoy it.