about being a journalist

is to find sources that tell the story right,

and tell the story well.

The hardest part

is balancing your writing with their words, their voices,

right and well, too.

The hardest part

is not taking anything too personally,

not being too affected by their words,

but telling the story to, for, and about them.

Feeling the impact of their story as you’re writing it,

but not showing your fear, your sadness, your sorrow, your grief, your fears to, for, with or

about them within your expressions, voice, or writing either.

Being objective, neutral, mindful, and careful, as a journalist

while being human, and young, and a student, and Latina, and a woman,

is the hardest part.

p.s. I interviewed a wonderful woman at the polling place in The New Paltz Middle School on Tuesday-National Election Day- and she told me that if Trump won, she’d “buy a bottle of scotch and get drunk.” She was wonderful, yet I found myself heartbroken with not only her responses to my questions, but others, too. “What kind of journalist am I then? “–I  questioned. I realized I am human, and am entitled to my emotions. But at the same time,  I learned that I cannot let my stories be my kind of personal–I have to let the stories be theirs–and share them. So, here’s to the hardest part of anything!


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