I WAS HIGHLY aware that the day would come eventually. And yet, here I am in a state which could only be described as trepidation. Hyperbole? Perhaps. Yet, when you’re up against the unknown, it’s quite a common reaction.

You see, as part of my college course and in order to obtain that elusive ‘degree holder’ status, I am about to embark on an eight week long unpaid internship. The role is at a Dublin-based radio station and, despite the lack of monetary reimbursement, I’m rather looking forward to the challenges it will inevitably bring.

Why such trepidation?

By doing the internship and the nature of the hours I am required to work, I now have to give up my trusty part-time job. My paid job. That pays me money. Real money on a weekly basis. And that is a scary thought.

Much as I may have complained about my evening/weekend retail number (and my friends will attest to serious complaining being done), when such familiarity is suddenly erased, in its place comes uncertainty. And nobody likes uncertainty.

Whilst I’ve never felt overly impassioned working in the retail industry, it has provided me with a wage. A wage which has paid for holidays, put food on the table and replaced ageing tyres on an equally ageing car.

As I type up my letter of resignation, word by word, the overwhelming feeling is one of anxiousness. Those payslips on a Friday, no matter how paltry the sum, are about to become a thing of the past. At 24 I am, essentially, unemployed.

We’ve all heard anecdotal stories about the effects of unemployment. The loss in one’s confidence, the endless financial burden, the sleepless nights. In fact, it’s not just anecdotal. We all know of real lives affected by unemployment. And yet, it is only when you’re faced with such a prospect that those concepts become succinctly realistic.

For context, I’m not heavily laden down with a crucifying mortgage nor do I have children to feed and clothe like so many others. To that end I’m rather fortunate .But graduates do have their own set of worries, many of which are financial. Continually rising rents and the paying back of student loans are just some examples. The pressures feel just as real.

Many graduates simply feel they don’t have a choice

Internships of the unpaid variety have come in for a lot of criticism in recent times. Many regard them as a means for big, well-established companies to gain free labour. One lecturer, during the course of my studies, vehemently showed disdain towards the idea of ‘working for free’.

And yet for many graduates, whose job prospects are uncertain (that word again), they may feel that they simply don’t have much choice. The market for jobs, in media especially, is fiercely competitive. By taking an unpaid position, it could be argued, they are at least gaining a foothold in their chosen industry. And by doing so, it will (conceivably) improve their chances of becoming gainfully employed in the near future.

My decision to forgo paid work in favour of something less concrete was not a decision arrived at in haste. I spoke with my family about the pros and cons, convincing them while simultaneously convincing myself.

My employers, who have facilitated my college timetable for the last three years are, understandably, unable to provide me with weekend-only hours. And even if they did, the novelty of working seven days a week would quickly wear quite thin.

Self-justification

I still find that I’m constantly resolving and justifying the decision in my own head by uttering things like: “Sometimes you need to take a leap in the unknown”, “It’ll be worth it in the end” and other such musings. Despite this, my concerns have yet to be fully alleviated.

This article isn’t an exercise in the garnering of sympathy. It represents the decisions facing graduates the country over whose future careers hang in the balance. Do they take unpaid internships upon graduation? Or should they hold out in the hope that a paid job will soon come?

My internship begins next month. Hopefully, upon completion, I’ll have an answer to some of those questions.

Thomas Bergin is a 24-year-old freelance journalist from Dublin.