In the spirit of fall, and as my roommates and I resume our valiant effort to make it through (at least one season of) Gilmore Girls, I've been thinking a lot about Rory. Specifically, I've been reminiscing on a summer that felt very Rory-coded, down to the copious amounts of caffeine intake, a voracious appetite for books while on public transport and, of course, journalism. Lots and lots of journalism.

During the summer, I had the opportunity to work at CommonWealth Beacon, a Boston-based newspaper focusing its coverage on politics, policy and civic life in Massachusetts. This non-profit, non-partisan newspaper is published by the Massachusetts Institute for a New Commonwealth, or MassINC, which also conducts statewide polls and public opinion surveys, publishes policy research and much more. The newsroom team is small — just two editors and four full-time staff writers. These reporters cover a myriad of topics, from housing and transportation to elections and ballot questions, with occasional input from freelancers.

The newsroom had no dedicated reporter covering education in the Commonwealth, so that became my primary area of focus — or, as it's dubbed in the journalism world, my beat — for the summer. I wrote about childcare deserts in the state, new state testing requirements for graduation and funding for schools. In doing so, I had the opportunity to speak with parents, advocates, lawmakers and educators.

To my surprise, this reporting also led me straight to Massachusetts Governor Maura Healey.

I came to Brandeis undecided about what I wanted to study and with no clear direction. I took a journalism class that fall — I had edited my school newspaper in high school and thought it might be interesting to learn how it worked in the real world. Needless to say, I loved it, and had declared my minor by the end of that first semester.

In the time since, like every good Brandeis student, I've collected an eclectic bunch of credentials: a major in neuroscience and minors in journalism and Hispanic studies. But something about journalism has always pulled me back. I think maybe it’s because, four years later, I still feel undecided today — I can’t seem to settle on the one subject or path I want to pursue for the rest of my life, and journalism offers me a way to avoid that choice. Instead, it lets me be curious about a seemingly infinite variety of topics, people and events.

That is how I ended up in the Massachusetts State House on a Wednesday afternoon, watching with a mix of absolute awe and terror as reporters from the Boston Globe, the State House News Service, GBH Radio and more gathered and awaited the arrival of Governor Maura Healey. The press conference was about her decision to divert an additional $100 million to public schools, and the room was essentially standing-room only, crowded with press members, politicians, advocates and a few curious members of the public who had wandered in to find respite from the heat outside.

Camera crews lined the back wall, and broadcast reporters stood ready with their microphones out. It looked and felt exactly like it does in the movies. The press conference itself only lasted twenty minutes or so, though the exciting part came afterward, when the reporters and cameramen rushed around the governor (in what’s known as a scrum) and had the freedom to ask her anything they wanted, on any topic they wanted. And when the Q&A portion began and journalists raised their hands for questions, I put mine up too.

In light of the President's recent attacks on the media — he attempted to ban CNN, Politico and MS NOW from the White House for writing “fiction or lies” about his team, though access for these outlets was restored on Thursday following a judge's order — I’ve been thinking a lot about what it meant for me to be in that room and in that position. And I think it’s pretty cool that I, or anyone else for that matter, could shout out a question at the governor of the state, and she would feel compelled to answer.

I left that press conference armed with quotes, a notepad full of furiously scribbled notes, and a story idea. It was, without a doubt, the most memorable afternoon of my summer. And it was worth every ounce of the caffeine addiction.