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Going from being a full-time mum to a full-time journalist has turned life at home upside down. My husband Nick and I have reversed roles: I wake him at 7.30 a.m. with tea and the Today programme before catching my train into town. He drops our nine-year-old at school, walks our cockapoo and makes dinner. As he is self-employed and works locally, it suits us both. Some older ladies at church seem to see him as some sort of saint, but it just seems fair enough to me. As Bill said of Hillary Clinton: ‘It’s her turn.’ It wasn’t, as it turned out; but then I’m not trying to be leader of the free world. Just to have the career I’d long thought I couldn’t have.
I’d love to pretend it’s all happy families, but the transition is bumpy and the house is descending into chaos. My teenage boys are expected to unload the dishwasher and — shock! horror! — locate their own shoes. Their bedroom floors are disappearing beneath a rising tide of clothes. I missed a parents’ evening for the first time. There have been major meltdowns. Mostly mine.
It seems that the House of Commons takes a vote on ending press freedom every other month, with another one last Wednesday. I suspect this is not because the press is so strong, but weak: print circulations are plunging and jobs vanishing. You’d be surprised how often aspiring journalists are advised by those in the industry to flee, to get out while we still can. But I’m running in the other direction. Whatever your view on Brexit and Trump, they underline the case for news and comment worth paying for. Amid all the fury, journalism matters, perhaps more than ever. The idea of ‘speaking truth to power’ sounds pompous but it’s vital. Call me idealistic or naive, but I want to be part of that.
Tomorrow I’ll meet my Women In Journalism (WIJ) mentor for the first time. It’s a fantastic organisation and many of their female journalists give their time to support those (like me) just starting out. I was told at a very early stage that journalism is a rollercoaster full of ups and downs. Learning to write is part of it, but so is learning to deal with rejection. Getting used to tears, unanswered emails — all in pursuit of a breakthrough. Or just a break. I met the Duchess of Cornwall at a WIJ event at The Ned in the City but my biggest thrill was celebrating women’s right to vote on the terrace at Westminster. The Sunday Times’s deputy political editor Caroline Wheeler very kindly got me in and introduced me to Laura Kuenssberg, who said straight away ‘You’re the Spectator intern!’And if you’re reading this, you too could be a Spectator intern — applications for its 2018 scheme are open now. No CVs are asked for: they don’t care who you know, or what school or university you went to.
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