“How are you?”

“Busy.”

At this point, that response feels almost automatic in college culture. It slips into conversations so casually that nobody really questions it anymore. In fact, being busy has somehow become comforting. If your schedule is packed, your calendar color-coded, and your sleep schedule completely destroyed, it can feel like proof that you are doing something right.

College students do not just experience stress anymore. We perform it.

Everywhere you look, productivity is being advertised as personality. On TikTok, there are endless “day in my life” videos showing students waking up at 5 a.m., drinking iced coffee, going to the gym, attending classes, completing internships, running clubs, networking, and somehow still finding time to maintain a social life. Platforms like LinkedIn have also transformed college into something that feels less like education and more like a competition. Everyone is constantly announcing new internships, leadership positions, certifications, research opportunities, or side hustles.

It creates the feeling that if you are resting, someone else is getting ahead.

According to reports about student burnout and mental health, college students are experiencing record levels of stress and anxiety. Yet exhaustion is still normalized. Sometimes it even feels rewarded. Saying you only slept four hours before an exam almost sounds like a badge of honor instead of a warning sign.

I have noticed this culture everywhere around college campuses. Students rush from class to work shifts to meetings to study sessions, all while joking about how little sleep they got the night before. Conversations about hobbies or genuine downtime are replaced with discussions about productivity. Even rest starts to feel stressful because there is always something else you “should” be doing.

Social media makes this even harder to escape. Productivity content is designed to look aesthetic and motivational, but it can quietly turn self-worth into output. Suddenly every hour has to be optimized. Relaxing feels lazy. Free time feels unearned.

What gets lost in all of this is the actual experience of being young and in college.

Friendships become rushed between assignments. Hobbies disappear because they are not “productive.” Students begin measuring their value through accomplishments rather than happiness or balance. Somewhere along the way, many people stop asking themselves whether they are genuinely fulfilled and start focusing only on whether they are falling behind.

The strange part is that most students know this lifestyle is unhealthy, but participating in it still feels unavoidable. In a culture built around achievement, slowing down can feel almost irresponsible.

Maybe being ambitious is not the problem.

Maybe the problem is that college students have started believing exhaustion is the price of worthiness.

Scrolling through social media often feels effortless. Posting a photo, reposting a TikTok, or uploading a casual Instagram story usually happens without much thought. But writing an “About” page or professional biography feels completely different. After reading Ali Williams’ “Writing You & Your About,” I realized that introducing yourself in a professional digital space can actually feel more vulnerable than posting online every day.

Williams explains that a bio is shaped by its “particular audience,” meaning the way someone presents themselves changes depending on where the writing lives and who is reading it. That idea stood out to me because most students already maintain multiple versions of themselves online. A LinkedIn profile sounds polished and career-focused, while Instagram or TikTok usually feels more casual and personal. The challenge comes from trying to balance professionalism with individuality.

One point from the article that especially interested me was the discussion of the “one-liner.” Williams describes it as a short statement that communicates someone’s accomplishments, goals, and personality all at once. That sounds simple in theory, but it is surprisingly difficult in practice. Most people are not used to summarizing themselves in a confident but authentic way. It can easily feel either too formal and robotic or overly casual.

This connects to a larger issue with digital identity today. Many students constantly curate themselves online without realizing it. Social media encourages people to present polished versions of their lives, whether through aesthetic photos, academic achievements, or carefully chosen captions. Writing a professional bio forces people to step back and intentionally decide how they want to be perceived.

As someone interested in data science and research, I found myself thinking about how professional identity is becoming increasingly important online. Recruiters, graduate schools, professors, and employers often search students online before ever meeting them in person. A strong About page is not just a short biography anymore — it becomes part of a person’s digital footprint.

What I appreciated most about Williams’ article was the emphasis on voice. The article encourages writers to remain straightforward and professional while still showing personality and individuality. That balance feels especially relevant right now, when so much online writing either sounds corporate and impersonal or completely unfiltered.

In the end, creating an About page is really an exercise in self-definition. It asks a deceptively difficult question: how do you want strangers on the internet to understand who you are?

Open any issue of The Atlantic. Scroll through The Daily Nexus. Skim the last WORD magazine you picked up. The interview is everywhere — but it almost never looks the same twice.

Sometimes it’s invisible: a source quoted in a news brief, two sentences folded into a paragraph. Sometimes it’s the whole architecture — a Q&A where the subject’s words carry the piece without a narrator in sight. And sometimes it lives between those extremes: a profile where one conversation becomes the backbone of an entire person’s story.

The more media I look at, the more I realize: the interview is not a single thing. It’s a method of gathering information, yes. But it’s also a genre, a framing device, and a relationship — and the form it takes on the page depends entirely on what the story needs.

Raw material vs. finished form

Most of the time, interview material gets dissolved into reporting. You talk to someone, extract what’s useful, and fold their knowledge into the narrative. A quote here, a paraphrase there. The reader never knows a conversation happened — they just trust the writer knows things.

That’s the interview as raw material. It’s how most journalism works, from beat reporting to long-form features.

But a Q&A exposes the seams. The back-and-forth structure stays intact. The subject’s voice drives everything. The writer almost disappears — their only real job is to ask the right questions, then edit with precision. Done well, a Q&A feels like access. Done lazily, it feels like a transcript.

A profile is something else entirely. It’s not about the conversation — it’s about the person. Interview material is one input among many: observation, reported detail, outside sources, context. The profile writer synthesizes all of it into a portrait. A pull quote might anchor a section. A revealing answer might become the lead. But the interview never shows. The writer does.

Art direction shapes everything

Here’s something I didn’t expect to notice: the format of a piece tells you how to read the interview material before you read a word.

A glossy magazine with a full-page portrait photograph signals: this person matters, slow down. The design is already doing interview work — establishing intimacy, authority, significance. The text doesn’t have to argue for the subject’s importance. The layout already has.

A quick Substack post with a single pull quote in a shaded box signals something else: here’s the one thing worth remembering. The block quote becomes editorial. It’s the writer saying: this is what the conversation turned on.

Digital writing makes these choices faster and smaller — a bold pull quote in a sidebar, a hot-linked name, a subheader that restates what a source just said. The interview bleeds into the design without ever being labeled as such.

How I’ll use this in my own work

For this course, I’m planning to use interviews primarily as reported material — not as a finished Q&A format. The stories I want to tell have too much context, too many moving parts, to let a conversation carry all the weight alone. I’ll need to know how to pull a quote without losing the person behind it. How to paraphrase without flattening them. How to ask something specific enough that the answer can actually do work on the page.

I’m also paying closer attention to how interviews are conducted — not just what’s asked, but the conditions of the conversation. Is it email? In-person? Over a recorder? Each change what’s possible. Spontaneity, vulnerability, precision — they don’t all come from the same setup.

The interview is a relationship before it’s a genre. What you get from it depends entirely on what you bring to it.

Magazines + Descriptions

1. Life magazine – “The King Lives On: Remembering Elvis Presley”
This issue focuses on Elvis Presley and his legacy. It’s very visual and photo-heavy, with a lot of archival images and storytelling about his life, influence, and cultural impact. LIFE is known for photojournalism, so the storytelling is done a lot through images rather than just text.

2. National Enquirer – “Hilary’s Dirty Dossier”
This is a tabloid-style magazine that focuses on celebrity gossip, scandals, and dramatic headlines. It’s very sensationalized and designed to grab attention quickly, with short articles and bold claims.

3. Woman’s World – January 19, 2026 issue
This magazine targets a female audience and includes lifestyle content like health tips, recipes, human-interest stories, and shopping ideas. It feels very practical and easy to read.

Where I Found Them

• Life magazine (Elvis issue): Found at Target

• National Enquirer: Found at a grocery store checkout aisle

• Woman’s World: Also found at a grocery store checkout/newsstand

Life Magazine (Elvis Issue)

• FOB (Front of Book):
  Short intro pieces and photo spreads about Elvis’ early life and rise to fame (quick, engaging content to pull readers in)

• Well (Middle/Main Section):
  The main feature story about Elvis’ life, career, and legacy — longer, more detailed, and more serious storytelling. This is the core of the magazine.

• BOB (Back of Book):
  Final reflections or timeline-style pages about Elvis’ later years and legacy, possibly including smaller features or closing photo spreads.

National Enquirer

• FOB:
  Short celebrity gossip blurbs and quick headlines on the first few pages

• Well:
  The main “Hilary’s Dirty Dossier” story — longer article with more dramatic detail and photos

• BOB:
  Miscellaneous gossip, horoscopes, or weird/fun stories (like “strange news” or quick entertainment pieces)

Woman’s World

• FOB:
  Quick tips (health, beauty, recipes) and small articles you can read fast

• Well:
  Longer human-interest stories (like personal transformations, emotional stories, or featured interviews)

• BOB:
  Recipes, puzzles, or feel-good content toward the end of the magazine

It was interesting to see how different each magazine was — LIFE felt more serious and historical, National Enquirer was super dramatic, and Woman’s World was more practical and everyday-focused.