Every now and then when I’m talking with a bright youngster I ask a dumb question.

I ask what he wants to be when he grows up.

I don’t know why we ask kids that question because they have no idea. But it’s interesting to hear their answers. Those answers haven’t changed much over the years.

Heck, I couldn’t even do a good job answering that question when I was I grade school.

I remember one specific time in sixth grade when I had to stay after school because the teacher didn’t like the way I answered the question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” I answered the question by saying I wanted to be a tap dancer. At the time, I enjoyed the free lesson we were given and wanted to have more but my mom said we didn’t have the money.

The teacher said she wanted me to give her a more serious answer. OK, then I said I wanted to be Nancy Drew. I read all her books and it sounded exciting.

The teacher didn’t like that answer, either.

Only two students were reprimanded for not being serious — a kid named Earl Boyer and me. Earl said he was going to be a funeral director. She thought he was being silly.

But many years later that’s exactly what he did. He worked for the local funeral director and was then promoted to being in charge.

No, I didn’t become Nancy Drew, but I did find a career that excited me. And it all started in my sophomore year of high school at career day.

The editor of our local paper, the News Dispatch, was there to give a talk on journalism.

I was enchanted with what he said, and knew that’s what I wanted.

When the editor was ending his talk he made a mistake, but he didn’t know it at the time.

Mr. Dyer ended his talk by saying if any of you are interested in learning more feel free to come see him in his office. So that’s exactly what I did. When I got to his office, his secretary asked if he was expecting me.

I said, Oh, yes. He told me to stop by if I was interested in hearing more. And I was very interested.

Sixteen-year-old kids think they know everything. Looking back, I sure did.

I told Mr. Dyer there was nothing in the newspaper to interest kids.

“And you think you could do it better,” he said.

With all the assurance of misguided youth, I answered, “Yes, I can. I’m a kid and I know what kids want.”

I told him I wanted to write a weekly column called “Teen Tips and Topics.” I went into detail about what the column would include.

He liked what I proposed but was skeptical about letting an inexperienced kid have such prime exposure in the paper.

He delayed making a decision by handing me a thick copy of The Associated Press guidelines.

He told me to study the book and come back when I knew it all.

For two weeks I memorized the entire book, asking my friends and dates to quiz me on AP rules.

At the end of that time I went back to see Mr. Dyer. And with the assurance of youth, said, “OK, now I know everything.”

The newspaper editors laughed about that for a long time.

But I did answer every question at length, and Mr. Dyer said he was willing to give me a four-week trial. I would have my own teen column every Saturday for four weeks.

He said I would even get paid $4 a week. He warned me the newspaper didn’t pay a lot. Heck, I would have paid him for the chance to work for a newspaper.

I threw myself into interviewing teens on a wide range of topics. Mr. Dyer liked the response we got from readers so he told me I had my column on a permanent basis, as well as the opportunity to do other stories.

I remember how excited I was when my stories started to appear in the regular paper.

When I graduated from high school our local popular weekly newspaper was advertising for a reporter.

As I was waiting for my turn to be interviewed I learned another applicant had graduated from college with a degree in journalism.

But I had something she didn’t have: I had experience. The editor who interviewed me said he remembered seeing my stories in the local paper.

The question he had for me was what I would do to cover a fire on Bunker Hill.

I told him I would no doubt be the first reporter to get there because I grew up playing on Bunker Hill and knew the fastest way to get to the top.

He said he liked my moxie and hired me on the spot.

I was so excited and ran all the way home in my high heels.

That was more than 50 years ago, but I have never lost my passion for newspaper writing.

I found exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up.

And even my cranky teacher eventually agreed.

Email Pattie Mihalik at newsgirl@comcast.net