It's been two and a half years since I last wrote about resigning. (Extended reading: Work isn't actually hard: it's just a matter of "fit" and "adaptation")
In mid-March, I resigned from the TV station! This was a job I'd longed for since my second year of university through graduate school. Although it took nearly seven years to fulfill that wish, I only stayed for two years before leaving. I really miss it, but I've been unable to speak about it openly.
Why didn't I mention it earlier? For one, I genuinely loved the work at the TV station and the busy yet fulfilling environment that kept me constantly growing and facing reality. On the other hand, I loved seeing my work being watched, and I enjoyed the moments of being on air reading the news. Even under intense scrutiny, because that was perhaps the only sense of achievement I had left.
Moreover, through working as a TV reporter, I was constantly experiencing other people's lives. I went to places I thought impossible to visit and met people I never expected to encounter. I became close friends with people I had no previous connection to, or developed mutual admiration with them. This nourished my life in countless ways.
Another thing—I was extremely camera-shy and introverted. Precisely because of this, I wanted to challenge my limits as a TV reporter, and it truly opened infinite possibilities for me. For example, not knowing what was happening at a fire scene yet having to go live for three minutes; reporting on a suspect's background right as they were being transferred to the police station; having never heard of Kuan Chung-ming, then knowing his residence, office, which bus he takes, what time he wakes up, and who his son is; or having 1 a.m. negotiations and staying until it's settled.
These precious experiences are an irreplaceable part of life. From my words, you can sense how much I loved this job—or rather, how much I loved being a TV reporter. Yet I still resigned.
After resigning, I realized: a job's nature determines your lifestyle. During my two years as a TV reporter, I didn't attend many lectures or courses to improve myself. I'm someone who loves learning, but sometimes after registering, work would keep me late, or I'd be too exhausted to muster the energy to attend events. This made me feel very hollow.
Meals were never on time. Breakfast was always bought and eaten on the go with milk tea. Lunch came either at 11:30 or 1 p.m., and I'd eat while on the phone, typing scripts, or staring at the screen, all five senses open and absorbing information. Eventually, I could barely finish one or two bites of a meal box.
Not to mention proper sleep. Of course, I could manage on little sleep, but when I had to catch an important interview the next day, my dreams were filled with that person—finding ways to approach them, or asking questions to get them to say something. Or when I had an early shift the next day, requiring me to wake up in the middle of the night, these things caused me to sleep shallowly or wake in a start.
Believe me, I'm not complaining about any of the above—I'm recording facts. I believe every reporter works this hard, but in such harsh conditions, many still persist with their ideals and original intentions. This is something I may not yet be able to do as a TV reporter.
Why? You might wonder about the real reason for my resignation. It's actually very simple: the salary was too low. All the work pressure mentioned above, combined with 12-hour shifts and 24-hour on-call status, and I'm not exaggerating—after deducting labor and health insurance, my salary was just over 30,000 a month. You read that right. And I wasn't the lowest-paid—some earned 10% less than me. You might say the TV station offers exposure, connections, and many added values...
But are these really sufficient leverage for corporations and employees to negotiate with? (Extended reading: Poor and only having ideals left! When corporations "hold dreams as bargaining chips" and trample on employee value—do you accept it?) Maybe yes, maybe no. What kind of life you live is your own choice. I've experienced my ideal, so now I must face reality: 480,000 in student loans, credit card debt, rent, and endowment insurance. I genuinely couldn't save money on that salary.
Loving your work is fine, but life goes on. I don't regret those days of choosing a 10,000-dollar pay cut, but from now on, I also need to think carefully about my future.
