The life of kings
“As I look back over a misspent life, I find myself more and more convinced that I had more fun doing news reporting than in any other enterprise. It is really the life of kings.”
—H. L. Mencken (1880-1956), journalist and curmudgeon, The Baltimore Sun
It’s funny how each step of life seems to build upon the last. The lessons learned (or not learned) in our teens and twenties keep popping up in later decades, giving us a chance to repeat or repair our earlier mistakes.
As a journalist, I often marvel at the serendipitous nature of life. How the perfect scene to end a story sometimes just drops into my lap, or how I can stumble across a stranger with just the right quote or the most amazing story when I least expect it. Most often, I am amazed by how often those strangers’ stories would reach deep inside my own heart and resonate with something stirring privately within my soul.
I remember listening to the stories of immigrant mothers toiling in South Florida sweatshops and thinking back to the stories my mother would tell of her early days in this country, sewing clothes for Barbie dolls in a New Jersey garment factory. I remember interviewing Sudanese refugees known as the Lost Boys and being inspired by their fierce embrace of love and joy in the face of utter horror. I remember being moved beyond measure as a teenage girl in Camden, N.J. celebrated her quinceanera in a battered neighborhood known more for its crime and blight than for its successes. Yet here this girl was, an image of hope bolstered by friends and family and faith.
Every story I do – the mundane as well as the marvelous – has the potential to teach me something, to make me a better journalist, and a better person. If I am paying attention.
Now, as a teacher preparing for my second year in the classroom and my first year teaching journalism, my challenge is to inspire my students to seek out those stories and those lessons in the faces they see, in the books they read, in the stories they write. I want them to realize that every assignment has the potential to enrich their lives. Whether they are charged with analyzing the rhetoric of Antigone or crafting a feature story about a school event.
As I prepare my lessons for the coming school year, I find myself thinking about my journey as a reporter. When did I stop being gripped by sheer terror at the thought of interviewing a stranger? How did I learn to recognize the spark of a good idea? How did I learn to turn piles of notes and notebooks into something readable?
Most importantly, when did I become smart enough to listen – really listen – to the stories swirling around me?
And how do I teach those things to my students?
The world is filled with small daily miracles, with heroes in our midst, with voices that can enlighten and encourage and provoke. Journalists may be paid to dig out those wonders, but everyone should experience the joy that can come from seeking out the gems among the pebbles.
If journalism has taught me anything, I hope it taught me how to pass that lesson on.