An open dialogue with my unpaid interns
I hosted a Q&A. They had a few grievances.
Photo by Pixabay via Pexels
My Dear Reader,
Recently, my team of unpaid interns began asking me to explain to them why they don’t get any time off. This is simply the most recent in a string of ungrateful complaints.
“Why do we have to work thirteen hours a day? You don’t pay us.”
“Other internships at least give people the weekends to recuperate.”
“That’s not ‘creative license,’ that’s tax fraud. We could all go to jail for this.”
Believe me, it’s exhausting. I love my unpaid interns, but this type of whining serves no purpose beyond pouring sand in the gears of our journalistic endeavors. I don’t have time to worry about their safety and well-being – it’s you, my good reader, who’s safety and well-being I’m responsible for.
To put an end to this once and for all, I hosted a town-hall-style Q&A with my unpaid interns, letting them ask for clarification on any topic they desired. Here is a lightly-abbreviated transcript of the event.
The Intern Who Once Brought Me A Latte When I Asked For A Cappuccino: “Every time you ask the team for suggestions and I offer one, you just bring up the time I mixed up your coffee order and instruct the other interns to shun me. Why do you do that?”
Me: “Well, well, well… It seems someone does have the ability to pay attention to details. Taking a sip from a latte when you’re expecting a cappuccino is like expecting a hug and getting punched in the throat. Now go sit in the utility closet and think about how your actions affect people.”
The Intern Who Usually Smells Like Ham and Cheese Sandwiches: “Why don’t you want us to talk to our families, even during off-hours?”
Me: “You might think you’re just catching up with your parents, but do you know who else is catching up? Our competitors. This is a cutthroat business – we don’t have time for families or friends or pets or any form of relationship.”
The Intern Who Looks Vaguely Like Dwight D. Eisenhower: “There are times where it feels like you assign us pointless tasks. Just to list a couple examples – the other day you told us to spend a few hours trying to construct a model of the Mackinac Bridge out of cotton swabs, and this morning you said we needed to send ‘veiled threats’ to the editor at The Daily Squawk. If this is the kind of work you’re having us do, why does everyone have to stay at the office until 9:00pm every night?
Me: “Listen, you’re the one who wanted to be an unpaid intern when you grew up, not me. Do you think I have the time to be doing these things on my own? I have to write upwards of one hundred words per day. This is the publishing world – get used to it.”
The Scary Intern: “OSHA Standard 1910.1000(d)(1) states that the cumulative exposure to an air contaminant for an 8-hour work shift shall be computed as follows: E = (Ca Ta+Cb Tb+. . .Cn Tn)÷8, where E is the equivalent exposure for the working shift, C is the concentration during any period of time T where the concentration remains constant, and T is the duration in hours of the exposure at the concentration C. The value of E shall not exceed the 8-hour time weighted average specified in subpart Z of 29 CFR part 1910 for the substance involved.”
Me: “Were you one of those gene-edited babies?”
The Scary Intern: “The point I’m trying to make, sir, is that you have on multiple occasions sentenced interns to spend several hours in what you refer to as ‘The Asbestos Room.’ How are you expecting to avoid a lawsuit?”
Me: “You were created with some sort of CRISPR technology. I’d bet money on it.”
As you can see, these mutinous Gen-Z infants seem to think they can have it all when it comes to their jobs. If they want ping pong tables and goat yoga and lunch breaks, they should apply to Google. This is the real world. Life is tough.
It’s our willingness to outwork our opponents that makes us the best.
Stay informed.
BHDP