This is my Core Competency Reflection for our 2nd Health Unit. I reflected on my Communication Core Competency as well as my Personal and Social Responsibility Core Competency.
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Sheila Reynolds
For this Community Connections assignment, I decided to interview Sheila Reynolds, a former reporter and editor for The Leader (a Surrey owned newspaper company) for almost 20 years. For the past few years, she has worked as a communications professional for a school district. She is a writer, which is the career I would like to pursue when I am older as well. Sheila’s responsibilities include researching and writing engaging articles on behalf of the school board for parents to read. Her responsibilities also involve writing about important events that take place within the Surrey School District to provide accurate and insightful details for the media or press to learn from.
I chose to interview Sheila since I knew her advice for becoming a writer was really going to give me a knowledgeable insight about what I should expect while pursuing this career. It has been my dream for a long time to become a professional writer, whether it be working as an editor for a local newspaper or publishing my own book for the world to enjoy. My passion is writing and it’s a hobby that has really inspired me throughout my whole life. Sheila is an expert in writing and can help me figure out which paths to take and the education I need to be able to follow my dreams of becoming a professional writer myself.
Questions:
1. Why are you passionate about your job?
Depending on what kind of writer you are, there are rarely two days that are the same and it’s almost never boring. My job has always offered a lot of variety and diversity. You can — and sometimes have to — learn about new topics quickly and become knowledgeable enough to explain them to others. One day you may have to understand how a contagious disease is spread, and the next day, understand the importance of a specific cultural ceremony. Along the way, of course, there’s a good chance you’ll meet all types of interesting people, so that’s always fun.
The times where I’ve been most passionate about my job are when I’ve been able to help give a voice or platform to people who might not necessarily have one or don’t know how to express themselves so that they are heard and understood.
2. What obstacles have you faced to get you where you are today?
External obstacles have mainly been changes in the world (like the internet!) that have made vast amounts of information so readily available to so many people. It has diminished the value of good and truthful investigative writing, journalism and fact-finding because there are so much potentially false information and so-called “fake news” at everyone’s fingertips.
Other obstacles have come from inside. Like a lot of creative people, it took me a while to have confidence in my abilities and know that I have a great deal of expertise to contribute and unique talents that many people do not have. I used to think everyone could write. They can’t (not always well, anyway)!
3. What advice would you pass on to someone interested in what you are doing?
4. Would you be open to further contact from Riverside students and if so, how can someone contact you?
Of course! Email me anytime at sheilakr@telus.net
5. What experiences in your childhood prepared you for becoming a writer?
I didn’t really know it at the time, but I used to write letters to my grandma when I was a child. She lived out of town and we wrote back and forth regularly about things we had done or seen or heard about. I was practising writing, without realizing it, because it was fun.
My parents were also very supportive of anything creative or artistic. I think that combined with growing up in a home that valued equality and social justice and human rights made me turn to journalism as a way to use my writing skills to make a difference in my community.
6. What have you learned about the different styles of writing?
It’s important to know there are numerous different kinds of writing and many that can offer interesting careers. Creative writing, such as writing fictional stories and novels, may well be the most difficult to pursue as a profession, mainly because it can take time (and some luck!) to have your work recognized, get published, and be paid well for your work.
That said, there are many other avenues, many of which can still be quite creative. Interesting writing all involves storytelling, to some degree, whether it’s writing a news story, a novel, a press release or blog. With some specialized training and education, you can definitely find a path to make a living as a writer. You can also use good writing skills in many other professions!
What I took away from this assignment
After interviewing Sheila and analyzing her responses, I have realized that writing is indeed the profession I want to pursue when I am older. Writing is much more beneficial to our everyday lives than I have ever realized before. Not only is it important skill set to acquire for your schoolwork, it also can lead to more job opportunities and increased communication skills. Proper grammar and punctuation may be the reason I get accepted into my dream school or get a high end job offer. We always have to make sure our writing is suitable for our readers, which leads to use taking the perspective of others more considerably, and getting to know more people in the community. I have learned so much about writing from what Sheila had written. I have always wanted to write stories for a profession when I am older, and Sheila’s insight on the world of writing gave me bundles of tips and information to help me get a head start on my future career.
Writing is a gift, and this interview with Sheila opened my eyes to a whole new understanding of the power that our writing is capable of.
Opportunities
Sheila gave me the opportunity to write a letter to the School District to not only practice my professional writing abilities, but to challenge me to come up with insightful information that is useful to the School District. The topic of my letter was based upon what I would like know about the School District and included details of aspects that I thought maybe they should take into consideration of changing or modifying. Writing this letter opened up a beneficial opportunity and challenged not only my writing skills, but my mind.
Here is the letter I submitted to Sheila Reynolds about the School District:
Not only was I able to write a letter to the School District for Sheila to review, this assignment itself also opened up a major opportunity for me. As I was describing this assignment to my family, I learned that my uncle’s cousin is a screenwriter herself. She writes original screenplays (which is the scripts for movies) and takes whole books and adapts it into a screenplay for movies as well. Two of her major projects includes the Princess Diaries and Coyote Ugly. I could also get advice from her to expand my knowledge on a writing career, and learn so much more about the world of writing scripts used in movies.
Here are a few intriguing stories Sheila has written for The Leader:
https://www.surreynowleader.com/entertainment/environmental-expressions/
https://www.bclocalnews.com/entertainment/finding-similarities-in-our-differences/
https://www.bclocalnews.com/news/he-intentionally-tried-to-hurt-or-even-kill-me-that-day/
Photo Citations:
https://twitter.com/sheilakreynolds
https://www.pexels.com/photo/advertisements-batch-blur-business-518543/
https://www.pexels.com/photo/adult-books-business-coffee-374016/
https://www.pexels.com/photo/woman-typing-writing-programming-7112/
https://www.pexels.com/photo/shallow-focus-of-letter-paper-1157151/
It all happened so fast. The last thing I recalled was taking a pleasant stroll onboard an Alaskan cruise ship. Now, I was awakened on the sandy beach of a forgotten island surrounded by crisp, cold waters. At first, I thought it was all a dream, however when I glanced around, I saw the washed-up bodies of all the victims in the tragic accident. I knew this was not a dream, it was a reality. I tried to stand up, then immediately regretted my action as my knees buckled beneath me and I crashed into the sand that was full of sharp and jagged rocks. My legs were hurt in the accident, so all I could do was crawl painfully and slowly. I pulled myself over the sand, rocks, and grass until I finally managed to recline on an arched black spruce tree. I took a moment to gather myself and took several deep breaths. I stared down towards the ocean which I came from and counted 25 bodies who weren’t as fortunate as I was. There were only 40 passengers on the ship the night before. As of what I knew, I was the only one who survived. A helpless tear trickled down my eye. The trauma took over me, and I curled into a ball and cried, longing for an embrace by my family that wasn’t there. I thought of how not only was I stuck on this deserted island, I couldn’t even stand up, let alone build a raft to try to get back home to my family. This thought caused more tears to stream down my grimy face.
By the time I seemed to calm down, the darkness was already taking over and the sunset was just declining behind the small-scale hilltops in the distance. I wasn’t hungry, so I decided to rest my eyes for a mere minute or two. That was a mistake. I dreamt of the incident. I was walking along the deck with a book in my hand that I was longing to read that evening when suddenly something crashed into the rear end of the ship. The boat swayed for a moment before the object crashed into the ship again, which contained such a force that the ship’s deck was almost vertically standing above the water. Many passengers fell out, but I was holding on to the slick railing and wasn’t ready to let go. It was then when another object hit the boat with the same deadly force, that I was pushed overboard. When I emerged from the surface of the dark water, the sunset was just starting to set, and I was watching it in the most painful way. I was fighting to stay at the surface when the boat suddenly detonated. Pieces of the ship struck people fighting to stay alive, killing them off one by one. I ducked out of the way as a flaming piece of debris raced past my fragile head. I was exhausted, and before I knew it, I was unconscious.
I awoke in a cold sweat, in the dead of the night. My stomach growling beneath me, I stood up to try to find some sort of food. My legs were still in pain from earlier, however, I managed to find a sturdy stick to lean on. I hobbled on my bare feet, walking into birch and tamarack trees every second while trying to navigate in the darkness. Then suddenly in the distance, I witnessed an occurrence that was almost magical. A creature, walking in a mystical, mysterious sort of way, was wandering through the forest. She appeared to be a woman, yet her skin was glowing the colour sapphire, and her hair was almost like icy blue fire. Behind her trailed a path of a glimmering blue substance, that almost appeared to look like foam. She didn’t notice I was watching her, or perhaps she didn’t care. As I was about to follow her, since I was curious as to where she was going, I spotted more creatures like her walking throughout the forest in the distance. They were moving incredibly fast even though they were only walking, so it was hard to keep up with them. I finally saw where they were heading. They were all roaming, as if in a trance, towards the deep depths of the sea. They walked down the beach, and right into the water, where they disappeared into the darkness that not even the moon could seem to light up. I was dumbfounded and thought my mind was betraying me and playing tricks on my feeble brain. Despite that, when I saw a fin splash in the distance, I knew this had to be real. These were mermaids. I was witnessing the creatures from the realms that everyone believed were just fables.
Still in shock, I hobbled back to the arched black spruce tree where I first went when I arrived on this mysterious island, to rest once again and watch them in a comfortable spot. However, when I arrived, I saw that a shimmering blue path trailed right through the spot where I once was. I crouched down on my knees to examine it, which was a mistake since my knees still hadn’t fully recovered, and I fell into the frothy substance. I didn’t know what to expect. My knees then suddenly started to heal, as if I took a thousand painkillers, and the cuts and scrapes began to disappear. Even the gash in my side started to close. I was bewildered and started jumping for joy. The answer to my problems was the blue foam! These mermaids were my saviour. They were beautiful souls who saved me and gave me the strength to walk again. They gave me the chance to go home while there was still time to build a boat before the tide washed all of the wreckage away.
I ran down to the beach, ecstatic about the new opportunity to return home that was bestowed upon me. To my disbelief, a lifeboat that was fully intact was perched on the shore, waiting for my arrival. I pushed it out to sea and paddled away into the black water. I sang out loud, joy seeping through my veins. I began paddling away when suddenly I saw the sapphire colour glowing in the water ahead of me. I instantly knew it was the mermaids who helped me before, so I rowed to them hoping to get a chance to thank them. My lifeboat was pulsing through the water, and as the sapphire blue became closer and closer to me, I yelled out, “Thank you! Thank you for everything!”
The mermaids seemed to hear me since they swam closer to my boat. I could see their glowing skin move swiftly through the soft waves. When I thought they would come and greet me, or at least show me a sign that they appreciated my gratitude, they crashed into the side of my boat, almost causing me to fall overboard. Then from the rear, another crash. Then another, and another, until I was finally knocked into the depths of the sea once again in the same dreadful night.
And it was when I was sinking back lower and lower into the icy cold water that I then realized these mermaids were the reason I was stranded on the island in the first place. They weren’t my saviours, they were my killers. The pressure became too much for my lungs and they collapsed. The last memory I can recall is seeing the face of the sapphire mermaid, her mouth covered with a smirk, yet her skin ice cold. My eyes then closed for the last time, and I would never see my family again.
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