“Journalism is not a job — it’s a lifestyle.”

 

Despite having worked in this field for multiple years now, I still struggle to call myself a journalist. Although it is simply a job title to some, this famous saying in the journalism industry kindled an internal identity crisis. 

 

I didn’t choose to be a journalist because I love to write. I chose to be a journalist because of my desire to ensure transparency and accountability in a world built on inequitable systems of power. 

 

However, there are times I wonder if I’m a contributor to the problems I’m trying to solve and whether the sacrifices I make as a journalist are worth the pain that comes with this career.

 

Being a journalist is a badge of honor and shame, one that requires both a moral compass and, at times, apathy for those at the forefront of the stories I may hurt in the process.

 

To be a journalist is to be controversial, belligerent, and unpopular. Despite this, we recognize our responsibility to be the storytellers of living history and report the facts as one strand in an intricate web of accountability. 

 

To be a journalist is to constantly confront your own ethics. How do I balance the desire to share important stories without exploiting trauma for profit?

 

To be a journalist is to be thanked one day and despised the next. I am a friend, a neighbor, a listening ear, a nuisance, a public enemy. I draw national attention to local issues — and often secrets — while intruding on the privacy of those hiding from the public spotlight. 

 

To be a journalist is to push your sanity to the edge, while never feeling like you’ve pushed enough. Scouring the internet for a needle in a haystack. Calls at midnight and six in the morning. The fear of being doxxed, threatened, and physically attacked. 

 

It’s draining. It’s exhausting. It’s tiring. 

 

But it’s also inspiring. 

 

To be a journalist is to find purpose in a whirlwind of senselessness and hope in a crushing tide of despair — a community’s resilience against a storm, local heroes risking their lives to protect others, activists fighting to create systemic change. Despite the dark material we trudge through, we unearth the stories of those shouldering the world to save the rest.

 

To be a journalist is to never stop growing.

 

It’s respecting people’s boundaries and controversial opinions while simultaneously challenging your own. Plunging yourself into uncomfortable conversations with strangers, colleagues, and adversaries. Listening to those you never wanted to listen to and understanding those you never thought you could understand.

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Not many can say their jobs make them better people. I still don’t know whether I can or not. 

 

I’m perpetually afraid that I will neglect the moral implications of being a journalist and sacrifice the principles that inspired me to pursue journalism to begin with. How do I ensure that I will continue to fight for the values I hold near and dear to my heart, both outside of the newsroom and within it?

 

If I call myself a journalist, will I become a cog in the machine instead of the weapon that breaks it?

 

I may never stop deflecting on my place in this job and lifestyle, but I know that I will continue to grow and build a platform for those working to save a person, a community, a tradition, or an idea.

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And that's why I'm proud to call myself a journalist.

 

To be a journalist is to be loved and hated. To be a journalist is to love and hate yourself. 

 

I’m not a journalist because I search for answers. I’m a journalist because I refuse to give up on my search for humanity.