Reflection

     When I selected journalism as my high school elective, my reasons were simple: I liked to read and write. As I ruled out everything from “Intro to Business” and “Foundations of Art,” it seemed that journalism was the last one standing, even though I knew almost nothing about it. Even months later, as our class learned journalism principles and worked through what seemed like hundreds of practice assignments, I found that this feeling of “knowing nothing about it” wouldn’t stop there. 

     Taking on my first article, I was, like most new staffers, a nervous wreck. As I walked towards my first scheduled interview, I only absorbed more and more doubts. I didn’t know how to conduct interviews. I didn’t know if I would be able to think of “follow-up” questions. I didn’t even know whether my source even wanted to answer my questions at all. Known as the “quiet girl,” in middle school, I questioned whether I had it in me to do it at all. On top of this, having moved to Westford recently, I felt even more misplaced in approaching people I had never seen before.   

      In contrast to this seemingly dramatic struggle, what ended up happening was quite simple: a normal conversation. Admittedly, the occasional awkward pauses and blips I had dreaded still occurred, but, to my surprise, it wasn’t the end of the world. Most importantly, the conversations brought the story I was covering - a feature on male teachers raising cancer awareness through an annual “No-Shave November” competition - to life for me. These interviews even led to two teachers sharing their own experiences with fighting cancer, something that I am still touched by today.

 With even more experiences like these, what has helped me ease my anxiety the most about confronting the unknowns of journalism realizing that writing stories, quite simply, isn’t about me. It’s about understanding the people I interview and the community I report on. So, while it was natural to feel anxious about talking to new people or my lack of experience, it also became necessary to (mostly) put that aside and instead focus on a larger goal: uplifting others' voices. 

     From spotlighting a visually impaired student passionate about public transportation to student actors working on a particularly profound theater production, I’ve had the opportunity to learn so much about a community I once felt a stranger to, and in the process, forge dozens of new connections. When I used to think of journalism, it was phrases like “breaking-news” that came to mind. Now, I also think of the simple pieces that elevate the voices around me, uncovering people simply doing cool things - things that often go unnoticed.

      Even now, as an “editor-in-chief,” there are still moments where I feel like I “know nothing.” As a sophomore, I remember that familiar feeling of overwhelm when I first ventured into covering town politics with teacher salaries. Last year, when our town faced nearly $6-8 million dollars in deficit, additionally posing disastrous cuts to the school community, I remember not even fully understanding the gravity of the situation when I read an initial document. It was only dozens of articles, hours of interviews, and an uncountable number of staff conversations later that words like          “Proposition 2 ½,” and “Fiscal year,” somehow became second nature. By then, I not only understood the budget but was able to explain and report on it to hundreds of students.

     “Seek first to understand, then to be understood.” Painted into the wall in blue, faded letters, I walked by this quote every day on my way to elementary school. Ironically, it isn’t until years later, equipped with four years of journalism, that I truly understand it. 

     Student journalism taught me that it’s okay to “know nothing.” What matters more is the process that comes afterward: seeking to understand. This starts with something as simple as learning to ask questions with the intent of listening to a genuine answer, rather than preconceived assumptions about where a story is headed.

      It continues with being curious about the community, learning to ask: “why are these decisions being made?” or “what is the other side to this?” before writing. It is with this mindset that I have become so much more aware of the people, events, and decisions around me, in ways that freshman-me would not even have been able to consider.

​      It’s not often that high schoolers are given the chance to see how our work can affect the community around us, but with journalism, it’s nearly a guarantee. ​With our budget coverage, we ultimately reached hundreds of students and community members, establishing ourselves as a trusted source for all things budget and raising awareness. And it’s not just hard news stories that create impact. It’s the smiles in the hall when I see a student I’ve interviewed and the thankful emails that prove this for me. 

     Though I try to be one sparking impact, it’s also inevitable that the impact of journalism is even greater on me. Whether it be the friendships formed in room 250, the communication skills I’ve gained over the years, or finding the courage to be curious, I know I will carry it on with me no matter where I am. And so, I am truly thankful that my decision to pursue journalism has led to so much more than I could have ever imagined.