Since before the turn of the century, only two cherubs from Montana have attended the Medill-Northwestern Journalism Institute. I am one of them.
I verified this fact by looking through Program Director Roger Boye’s vintage paper records. It didn’t surprise me. Montanans like to keep to ourselves, so it adds up that very few would venture out from our picturesque mountain villages and plains farming towns to the busy streets of Evanston.
When I arrived at the Medill Cherubs program, I noticed my cherub peers held misconceptions about my home state.
“I thought [Montana] was really just wilderness, and not a lot of people,” said Molly Chodos of Marlboro, New Jersey. “Everyone wearing camouflage and talking about the deer they caught today.”
Like Chodos, many of my fellow cherubs were unable to place Montana on a map. (Yes, I held up a blank map on my iPhone and forced them to point to it.) As the first Montanan they’d ever met, I was able to educate them on what makes my state so special: its unique culture, connection with the outdoors and “Canadian accents,” as Chodos put it.
In exchange, they exposed me to parts of their cultures. We laughed at varying pronunciations of words (Montanan “milk” vs. Floridian “melk”), united over shared favorite sports teams (go Packers) and introduced each other to new traditions (apparently there is a whole second half to ‘Happy Birthday’ that just involves counting).
The lessons I learned from the other cherubs, who are just as passionate about reporting as I am, will stick with me for life – in Montana or wherever journalism takes me.
