Newspapers are folding. Buyouts and layoffs keep coming. Companies are in debt, some even bankrupt. So why, you might ask, am I trying so hard to climb aboard a sinking ship? I don’t have any superpowers, nor do I have any answers. I can’t predict the future. And I’m nobody special. I just hope maybe — just maybe — I can make a difference in the journalism industry.
I’ll admit I had some doubts. I wondered if I should stick it out. If I should wait it out in graduate school. Maybe even transfer my skills to law or politics.
I tried to stay optimistic about journalism and my future in it. I got rejected. I got discouraged. I blamed the crummy economy.
I waited tables while searching for full-time work. That didn’t help. I got a look of disgust from one customer who discovered my “dream” to be a journalist. “All journalists are liars,” he said, ranting on and on about his dislike for “all media.” Another worried about my future, suggesting my skills would be useful in public relations at a nearby hospital. Others suggested it would be a “perfect time” to return to school. Not particularly inspiring for a young journalist like me, trying to break in.
Even my mother encouraged me to pursue another career. Maybe I should have listened to Mom in the first place; I’d make a decent living as a doctor, lawyer or engineer. Maybe it was time to be realistic, not naïve.
But then Poynter came along and saved the day.
All my doubts and worries disappeared. I was honored they considered, even picked me as one of 39 fellows to study at a school dedicated to teaching and inspiring journalists, both old and new. My two weeks at Poynter helped remind me why I became a journalist in the first place.
To give a voice to the voiceless. It was a common answer for many fellows when Poynter’s Butch Ward questioned why we got into journalism. It is more than a job, but a mission. For me, a calling.
I met a substance abuse counselor for the Salvation Army in 2005. He revealed his life as a former alcohol and drug addict. I told his story with words and photos in my community college newspaper. He thanked me for giving him relief for his past actions. Imagine a stereotypical leather-jacketed, bandanna-wearing biker saying “thank you” to puny, young me.
I realized I gave him a voice and it might help others by sharing his story. I continued to give a voice to many others, who wanted to be heard.
For two weeks, I was surrounded by 38 aspiring young journalists, all of whom were deeply passionate about the craft. We had instructors like Al Tompkins and Sara Quinn, who expected nothing but highest standards from us. We had a nearly three-hour class discussion with Kelly McBride about ethics in a digital age. Our guest speakers included journalists from USA Today and three Pulitzer Prize winners from the St. Petersburg Times.
How can that not reinvigorate my passion for journalism?
We each produced a multimedia news package on deadline. It made me optimistic about the future of journalism. Newspapers may be folding. News organizations may be cutting staff. But journalism is more alive than ever. News is evolving to the Internet. We just need to find a way to make online news profitable.
Until then, local news is still important. People still care about what goes on in city council and school board meetings. Moms want to read about their kids’ little league teams. Neighbors want to know who won the state fair’s rhubarb pie contest. Surely, you can’t get such news at any national outlet. Only your local news organization.
I’m excited about the changes our industry is going through. There are more opportunities to tell stories than before. We can connect with our audiences through blogs, Facebook and Twitter. We can produce interactive pieces using a combination of words, audio, photos and video.
The journalism industry needs young folks like me. We offer a different perspective. We take risks. We innovate. But even in a digital age, good old-fashioned gumshoe reporting like fact-checking and digging for truth still applies. If we don’t continue telling stories, who will?
Journalists don’t have a stellar reputation. We’re often unappreciated and underpaid. So why do I keep doing this?
I can’t imagine doing anything other than journalism. I meet new people everyday, learn new things, see events unfold and document history. It’s not a nine-to-five job, but I don’t sit around, waiting for my shift to be over.
At my internships, I always came in early and left late. I always had a wide grin on my face. Veteran journalists usually asked me why I was so upbeat. Why not? I’m doing what I love.
I’ll keep smiling. I’m hoping maybe my enthusiasm will be infectious. Maybe journalists will stop crying the “sky is falling,” and instead, team up to find solutions to help save the journalism industry.
Maybe, just maybe — I can make a difference.
