Many believe that wanting to be a journalist is one of the most depressing life choices a person could make. And sometimes, I indulge their beliefs and agree with them. It can be hard seeing sad news every day, but unfortunately, the world will never be perfect and serene. Bad situations have to happen in order for the good to shine through. As a journalist, one has the opportunity to cover a wide range of stories and some stories that start out sad have the chance to have a happy ending. I've only opened up to a few people about why I decided to be a journalist, so here it goes.
The first experience I had with journalism was a sad one, but it helped me determine what I wanted as a career at a very early age. On September 11th, 2001, I was only five years old. It was my second day of kindergarten and I was excited to go to my afternoon session of "learning."
But when I woke up that morning, my mom told me that it wouldn't be safe to go to kindergarten. So my brother and I did not go. Naturally, I was confused. I decided to ask my mom why we couldn't go, but in my search to find her in the house, I found her watching the TV. The expression on her face was one that I'll never forget: shocked and scared, with her hand over her mouth.
I looked at what she was watching on the TV. It looked like a scene out of a movie. I saw things that I wish I could unsee. Later on in the day, a person on a news channel (who I later learned was a journalist) was recalling the stories of survival she had seen earlier in the day. She kept her composure almost until the very end and then she shed a few tears. I asked who the woman was. My dad told me she was a journalist. I admired the way she reported the facts of one of the worst tragedies in the world and still managed to remind everyone that there were humans hurting out there in New York and that we needed to remember what they were going through.
After that day, I started watching the news frequently. I wanted to know more, not only about the tragedy at home, but more about what was happening around the world. I became obsessed with news coverage in all forms, but breaking news was what I really enjoyed. I felt as though I was part of the investigation, and that was exciting.
Around seventh grade, I started writing small articles in my journals about news stories I would read in newspapers. They would never be published, but I took every opportunity I could to hone my writing in hopes that one day I would be noticed.
My first article to be published would come around five years later when I decided to take a leap and join my high school's newspaper club. I wrote about Chamber Singers, an advanced choir I was lucky to be a part of my senior year. When we wrote for the newspaper club, our articles would be edited and then published in The Enterprise, our local newspaper. It was a dream come true. It was strange seeing my name in a newspaper with an article I wrote and a picture that I took.
About five of my articles were published my senior year. It was incredible.
Before I applied to Curry College, I seriously considered what becoming a journalist would entail in college: long nights, deadlines, and extensive writing courses. I was ready for it. All I wanted in the world was to become a journalist, just like that woman I had seen on TV over ten years ago.
I laugh when people tell me that good journalism doesn't exist. I scoff when they tell me journalists are a dying breed. They are out there, ready and willing to tell a story. Don't even worry about it.
Sure, journalism can be depressing, but so can anything else. I have an undying need to tell stories. Some people don't get to have their stories heard and I want to be the person to get them out there. I love the career path I have decided to take. And there are many roads left to be traveled. I just hope one of those roads takes me to The New York Times.
