The University of Sheffield is keen to declare itself as top university for journalism.

The University of Sheffield has helped journalists see their route map through what is by any accounts the most extraordinary revolution in communication, and… we’ve had a lot to thank Sheffield for in terms of the people you’ve sent us.

Alan Rusbridger, editor-in-chief, the Guardian 1995-2015

With a network across the media including BBC, Press Association, Bloomberg and The Guardian, the University of Sheffield Journalism Department teaches for the best journalists. Rated number 1 in the UK by the Complete University Guide and the Guardian University League Tables 2019, it promises Sheffield students to see “journalism’s bigger picture”.

The undergraduate degree, Journalism Studies BA offers the option of a one-year placement in industry. Although this opportunity is not guaranteed for every student, according to the university’s official website, the university will do everything they can to make workplace experience placements possible for students who take “responsibility to secure”.

The modules contained in the three-year degree offer both traditional skills like note-take in shorthand and digital skills like editing audio and video. As a Russell Group university, the Journalism Studies BA from the University of Sheffield requires initiative, persistence and imagination in order to deal with tough legal and moral issues around students’ work.

Saya Uotani, who was in the final year of the Journalism Studies BA 2019-20, described her experience, “I had about 10 minutes left when the MP rang me back, and I rushed to the radio booth to record my phone interview. I dashed back to the newsroom, edited it, double-checked for errors and sent it through just in time to be read on air. It was nerve-wracking, but incredibly thrilling at the same time!”

One of the things that the university stresses the most is that journalism is about right and wrong, war and peace, liberty and democracy, about the life stories of people, societies, and entire continents – the reasons why journalism matters.

Birds were singing, in the morning, when the sky was still dark, I lifted up the curtain beside my bed. Some people had awoken with the lights in their rooms, such was mine. Another day, a new day, but, stay at home.

Out of my window, in the court within my accommodation, there was a black man holding his body facing the ground. He was doing an exercise, silently, brightly. There was a blue cushion which corresponded with his blue sports outfit.

What a warm sunny day, I could feel the lustre through the square in the wall of my room. Undoubtedly Spring had come, which story the small yellow flowers and that tree in white and pink were telling. So what were they talking, the two ladies who were sitting side by side on different benches? I didn’t know, for I could only see their hairs through the tree.

Boxes, masks, protective clothes and familiar voices, I noticed them before they appeared under the window. I was happy when I saw them, because I knew they had come to distribute “health packages” to Chinese students who had registered to China Embassy. I became nervous in fact, because tens of minutes later I got no notifications to collect, until they left; there were bright orange crosses on their white protective clothes.

Many times I had heard the sound of wheels sliding on the ground. British students were moving cases in the court. I came back from shopping, there was a car whose back storage door was open parking near the door of the accommodation. As I proceeded, parents carrying bags and cases appeared in my eyes, they were moving out of the accommodation. I knew, students who want to go home can be released from the contract…

I had received the grade of the listening exam of Academic English Skills module. As it neared the dusk, voices of boys and girls chatting passed into my room. Unfortunately, what I heard was English, if this was a listening exam, I could get no better than 2, the number of words I could identify from their chatting. But, I say, this is good. They don’t know me, I don’t know them; as they come and sit around the wooden table in the court, chatting almost every day and eating sometimes, though I dare not, I’d like to.

Christianity is something western. I am from the far east. In Sheffield I have been a student and occasionally into a talk held by Christian Union in Students’ Union.

I didn’t mean for Christianity that noon. As usual I was walking to the Students’ Union building for a satisfying lunch, two girls stood in front of the building and gave me a question: What do you think if there is anything remaining after a person’s death? They wore the same T-shirt on which I could see Christian Union. “Well, something would remain, I think.” “How come?” asked one of them, called Sarah. “Because there are two parts forming a man, the outer part of the body and the inner part which is inside the body. The inner part of the man would remain though the body is dead.” “What happens after death?” followed Sarah. “There would be a judgement.” “By what?” “According to what we do.”

Before I left, I picked up a candy from the yes box which the other girl was holding. What’s more, I was invited to a talk that night.

I was expecting to exercise my English when I decided to go, otherwise I would only be sitting in my room. However, the first words I heard from a Christian Union person I didn’t understand, though he repeated three times, I think. Upstairs, I saw people standing, sitting, grouping and talking, and began to feel embarrassed, for hardly could I see an Asian face.

Sarah recognised me and I was saved from a dilemma to a table. Still I had nothing to say, but I really liked the red tea with milk added.

In fact, my grandpa and grandma are both Christians, but I think they are too superstitious, I told Sarah, most of whose families are Christians too, she said: “yeah you may want to say the teachings Christians said are good, but where is the evidence, we cannot see God Himself.” Maybe it was just because my grandparents are Christians I was attracted to the talk.

The preacher had a time to speak. He was an old man, but his face shone red in speaking, and the words when he said slowly and affectionately were somehow touching and into me to some extent. After, Sarah gave three questions: what did he speak about Jesus, man and God? “Concerning Jesus, that He died and resurrected accordingly. Concerning God, that He loves people. About man, I don’t know.”

I read Bible before, because Bible has been regarded the highest book in the western world. Talking about church, Sarah invited me to their church on Sunday, an Anglican church, which I know is the national church of the UK, that there would be a free curry after the service, but I was cautious, because I don’t like religion.

I didn’t return until I finished talking with Will, or William, who was wearing an apron to serve the drink. He was now studying mechanical engineering. I found him even more embarrassed than I was coming here when I refused to receive a Bible in Mandarin and English. He was cute.

This is just the first adventure I took concerning Christianity. There is more when I did come to their church……

They exist only to remind me of all the rest of it

Now should be the time that I have done some interviews and translate them into a news article. I’m not sure if this can count as a piece of homework. Anyhow, a fresh writing is before you, take it if you like.

Seriously I am writing my own blog, hopefully I could invite all my families, friends and even teachers to visit my blog and have fun and even feedback to me. No, this I did not, in my contrast.

Life could be really hard when you find a lot of things to do while relaxing for things you have done. No, the very thing you receive is just the thing you thought to be done perfectly- my dream-like contrast.

Imagination is useless when it becomes complaints. Now this imagination is much sweeter than anything you can get in the world. The contrast is it’s both surreal and satisfying.

Literature has become the most prevalent factor to me and to the blog. Now it satisfies me, torments me and is supposed to be accepted as a formal enough homework.

Exposure is the only thing I want or I can do when I feel extremely lonely. No, everything else is behind, aside, and false. Yes someone would say I am silly in effort that I may wake up; you are right, leave me alone.

A door is all I want, and I have just shut it up.

The only thing I have is contrast, and the only audience contrast. Contrast as my journalism.

(Now I feel good, if I were not good)

Reminisce of my simple days

I decided to take a trip with my classmates, rather than an interview. And that’s what happened on that weekend.

We are still new. But the first thing we had to figure out was to arrive at the train station on time, or to get up in time. Tickets to a village Bamford were already booked, when we ran to the train which was about to depart, no one was checking the tickets as I supposed. On board, but not in seats.

The Sheffield station is a small railway station, and we saw an even smaller one at the destination, which only had wooden seats beside the railway. It’s OK, because we were not seeking cement jungles. Still, we had a basic problem: hunger. Following the navigation and the sign post, a line began to advance alongside the road. We wanted food or a restaurant, if the white eating grass in the pens could serve…… I mean, the sheep were really cute!

So many cars were running through the road, did they like the small village? Scarcely could you find a near restaurant in the map app, at the same time we were helping a late friend who was catching the train……Now the only thing you wanted to do was eating fried fish between two pieces of bread with a green mountain in front of your eyes. Let me tell you, I was. With a full team and a filled belly—time to climb up the Peak District!

As a Chinese, I didn’t find delicate steps and armrests as they are standard in Chinese scenic places. Wet, dirty and steep was the path; people did not want their shoes defiled, as I rushed in front of them. I was the first to find a grass field, under sunshine and above trees and houses. It was a private farm, in which they were taking photos individually, collaboratively and professionally for a long long time. I don’t like photographs.

The journey was getting hard, not for its altitude and distance, but in terms of winds. What a misery it was that my ten pounds were stolen by the wind, and towards the direction of the ten pounds I found a staff, a natural leader staff. I told my friends: “I bought this staff by ten pounds.” (Which I gave to a classmate and was abandoned in the end.)

Now our cute friends were back: goats climbing and grazing in a valley! One of which had a purple tail. Again, I do not like photographs. That was almost the end of the trip.

Due to powerful winds, we did not reach that cliff above a lake (probably because we had just enough photos and selfies).

But definitely that was not the end of the journey, it is, in fact, a willingness to sleep—which I want now…