Why Journalism

I have always been found of words, and they have always been found of me. (Even when nothing and no one else seemed to be.) But words, though powerful, are not always beautiful, good, or even true. I didn’t care at the time because I only cared about the worlds I could create in my mind, and on the page when I wrote fiction. And, in my mind, truth didn’t matter and beauty was whatever I saw fit.

That all changed when I was 16 and became a journalist. Journalism kind of came to me, a little while after the words did. Because I realized I wanted to tell stories about these strange, interesting creatures called humans. (It never occurred to me that I was one of them) I decided I wanted to tell true stories. In the end it was curiously that won.

Albert Einstein once said, “I have no talents, I am only passionately curious.”

I think Einstein should have been a journalist. What other profession allows you to go to events that matter, interview interesting people, and tell stories through multiple forms of media. You are basically a storyteller, an adventurer. (and storytellers have always been adventurous because stories have always been adventures. Just like the books we read as children.)

I think I never lost that childlike longing to question everything, to ask “why” after every explanation given. I never gave up on understanding. I never gave up on truth. In fact I still think truth (and love) are the most important things there are.

I believe change can happen when truth is told, and there is still much to be done.

And that’s why I’m a journalist.