My Story

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     As a staff writer taking the beginning journalism course, I was instantly drawn to News and Feature writing. My first ever published article was a sports feature centering around the unfortunate placement of the soccer nets during soccer season in relation to the neighborhood houses that border the school. Not only does this stand out to me as my first published piece, but it's also memorable because it reaffirmed my choice to continue with journalism passed the first semester. (Click Here to read the story)

     In order to write the story, I teamed up with a fellow staff writer. We took on the story because of rumors that there had been neighborhood complaints against the soccer team, in order to report the story properly, we knew we had to interview some of the neighbors. 

     We went house to house one day after school knocking on every door that directly borders our school's soccer field. It wasn't until we knocked on the last house on the block that someone finally answered the door (probably because it was 4 pm in the middle of the week). We explained to the woman who answered the door that we went to Prospect and were investigating rumors of neighborhood complaints regarding soccer balls, and we asked her if she knew anything about it. Imagine our surprise when she not only said yes, but went on to tell us about numerous incidents of coming home to broken windows, broken light fixtures, dents in her garage, and soccer balls scattered throughout both her front and back yards. After hearing her side, we went back and forth between her and our school's athletic director because we had to give each person an opportunity to comment on what the other had said. 

     This story stands out to me, not because we never asked for the woman's contact information — and thus had to knock on her door unannounced every time we had a follow up question — but because she had given up hope that her story would be told. After the story ran in press, I made sure to drop off a copy of the paper so she could read the story for herself. 

     When I presented her with the paper, she thanked me. It crushed me to explain to her that she shouldn’t thank me because there was nothing I could do. This woman had submitted multiple formal complaints, pleaded with the school and the police, and experienced several instances of property damages. The article wouldn’t help replace her damaged property, or even guarantee that anything would change in the future. I apologized for wasting her time, but she refused to listen.

     While She was skeptical at first to tell her story to a high school freshman that she had never met, she thanked me for the opportunity to allow her voice to be heard. She reassured me that, even though no good may come from it, she did not regret any of the time she spent talking to me. 

     Roughly three years later, as Editor-in-chief of the program, I sat across from a peer while he described how the color his skin alienated him from not only a traditional high school experience, but also a fair one. During the interview, I couldn’t help but think of the soccer lady and the thankfulness she expressed. Throughout, the entire story process, I didn’t think about the thanks that could be given, but rather about the voices that could be heard.

     As soon as the interview had started, a boy that I barely knew found the courage to talk to me about how he quit the wrestling team sophomore year because his teammates could not let go of the fact that his skin was darker than theirs. During the rest of the 45-minute-long interview, he revealed how his friendships, lifestyle, and mentality changed during his high school career as a result of simply being a racial minority within a school that is most known for having a homogenous white majority. As a person, I was horrified to glimpse into the brutal discrimination that somebody in my school, and my grade, faced on a daily basis for almost four years. Over something that he had no control over, no less.

     “It got to me because I can’t stop them, because that’s who I am,” he said. “That’s my color, and I can’t change the color that I am. At the same time, they were my teammates … I’m friends with them.”

     I was shocked to learn that he had been, and still is, dealing with this his whole life — especially at my own high school. It also became apparent that the majority of the school, students and staff alike, were shocked as well. Yet, it was not difficult to find others like him. Instead of African American, maybe the next person was gay, the one after that Latino. It didn’t matter what kind of minority they were because it became the only thing that people saw. 

     For the next four weeks, I poured my heart into the story in order to bring awareness to students and staff, who seemed to be merely floating through life unaware of the burden and oppression these individuals endured every day.

     I wrote the story to leave a legacy. Not the kind of legacy that gets the attention of your newspaper staff as a freshman. The kind of legacy that forces change because others were too afraid or too oblivious. As a writer and as a journalist, I will be forgotten. My only hope is that my work — the injustice exposed by light and the truth exposed to the right people — will go on. 

     Reporting and writing this story was by far my most emotional journalism experience to date. Not only have I known the main source for four years, but I was also wrestling teammates with him for freshman and sophomore year. Listening to him talk about how his own teammates made fun of him for the color of his skin, and how that made him feel, was heartbreaking. Not just because that was the reason he quit wrestling, but also because I had never stopped some of the incidents he described. Although I never directly participated in the discrimination, I also never did anything to stop it. Thus, denouncing bystanders and defining them as part of the problem became the foundation of my story. (Click Here to read the story)

     The morning my article went to press, teachers throughout the building cleared their schedules for the day to talk about the 

situation and the importance of no longer being bystanders to racial, ethnic, and sexual discrimination. While no one believes the culture of discrimination was created in an attempt to exclude students for their differences, everyone let it happen for so long because it was justified as jokes between friends. People needed to understand that this was not a joke, and kids with different skin colors, sexual orientations, and ethnic backgrounds were / are being constantly harassed.

     Pursuing the story opened up my eyes to the world around me as a human being and further confirmed in me the drive to continue with a career in journalism. I became a journalist because I wanted to make sure people's voices were heard. I never anticipated how much I could grow as a person because of it. It is my belief that journalists are created to be forgotten. However, our work will leave a legacy. By telling stories and shining a light on issues, we spark change, and leave ourselves — and the audience we reach — better people because of it. This is what matters to me, and this is what motivates me to be the best journalist I can be.  

     While I am proud of all I have accomplished, my ambition continues to grow and my legacy continues to expand. To me, journalism is about connecting people through stories, and that is something that I refuse to live without.