“Folkloristics, cultural anthropology, and religious studies,” sighed the managing editor and wondered what possible use I thought I might get out of them in real life. I did my best to smile at the insult. I did get the reporter’s job though: my work experience counted, rather than my studies.

When I started as a journalist at a local newspaper, we banged out our articles on mechanical typewriters. Technology belonged in the printing room and computers in science fiction. When computer monitors invaded our desks, we journalists were given a separate bonus for using them. Now my working environment is an endless stream of ever newer machines and operating systems. But luckily this flood of technology hasn't drowned the fascination of journalistic work. I can still be eager for new things and curious about people’s stories.

As a schoolgirl I resolved not to waste my life on activism. This decision was influenced by Teiniliitto (a grammar school student organisation) and my mother. In the 1970s I witnessed class struggle within the grammar school. One of the crowning achievements of school democracy was a smoking room for the students. My mother's involvement in political organisations showed me how much working for shared dreams eats into your family time.

My best memories at the University involve three libraries. When I wanted to be by myself, I sat and read in the Rotunda of the National Library. When I felt like being sociable, I went to the library on the third floor of the Main Building; you could always find somebody there to go for a cup of coffee with. One sound from there has stayed in my mind: the clop of the worn-out clogs of the amanuensis going around restocking the shelves.