The next problem was trying to find a photographer; a story about Mr Kerry arriving with no picture would be rather boring. I made numerous calls, but to no avail. All the photographers were in class.

With the clock ticking, I asked one of the administrative staff to give me

a five-minute crash course in photography. Then, I rushed to the airport to welcome Mr Kerry.

But in a rush I forgot to bring any form of identification, and I soon realised the difficulty in persuading a member of the secret service to let me onto the airport tarmac. Eventually, I got in, with the Kerry campaign spokesperson vouching for my identity. And Mr Kerry hadn't even arrived yet.

But as the campaign plane touched down, a sudden fear gripped me. What if my photographs were bad? What if I failed to capture the precise moment as he descended the steps of the plane? What if I dropped the expensive camera?

My arms quivered as I tried to hold the heavy camera in place. I aimed for the door that Mr Kerry would exit from.

And I think that it was here, as I started to furiously click away at the approaching presidential candidate, that I understood the similarity and difference between journalism and photojournalism.

In both cases, you try to excite the reader while telling a story. But you have that extra time as a reporter to delve more deeply into issue. For photographers, every moment is

a luxury.

If you haven't worked for a newspaper yet, I urge you to try. I guarantee you'll never regret it.

Ms Yeung is a student at the University of Pennsylvania