Essay

“Wear it with pride,” a voice said.

I turned my head and made eye contact with a man sitting in a chair. He looked at me and gestured towards my press pass while holding up his own.

Smiling, I nodded my head and headed back to my original spot, took out my notepad and pen, and waited until the meeting began.

Throughout my time as a high school journalist, I’ve covered countless meetings and events, not to mention the myriad of inspiring quotes that were memorialized in my articles. They became memories I recalled from time to time but somehow, on this particular night, when that man spoke to me, it was a moment I could never forget.

His words lingered in my mind for days; whenever I saw my press pass peeking out from the side of my backpack, I felt chills run through my body.

I hadn’t given my press pass much thought since I first received it sophomore year. Sure, it felt exciting to have my peers or adults point it out, but it was just a slip of paper with a blurry black and white photo of myself inside a clear slip… until now.

After that night, I had an epiphany—a wake-up call that was dying to be heard.

On the first day of sophomore year, I walked into my first period class, which was The Knight Crier, scanned the room, and realized I didn’t know anyone. Even though I was in a room full of 25 students, I felt so alone. I had no friends, no journalistic experience, and absolutely no confidence. I didn’t belong there.

On August 31, 2018, after just three days of being in the class, I drafted up an email to send to my advisor telling him how I felt I wasn’t fit for the course. The next morning, I confronted him after the period ended to tell him I was considering dropping the class.

He had a single request: write one article and see how you feel.

Immediately, I began brainstorming ideas. I thought, if I was going to write an article, I want it to be a meaningful piece; I wanted to write something that would make people feel genuine emotion, even if it was fleeting. 

I remembered receiving news last school year that a new student was joining our middle school. He was fleeing his home in Puerto Rico after Hurricane Maria hit to temporarily live in America with one of my classmates.

He ended up permanently staying here.

A year later, when I was deciding on my first article, I considered his story as an option. His perspective was one that deserved to be heard, and I wanted to be the person to tell it.

On our first Monday morning staff meeting that year, I pitched the idea and the editorial board approved it. That same day, I contacted him and set up an interview date. 

Once we spoke in person, I went home and got straight to writing. I finished my first draft in two days and, after review, the article was officially finished. After it was published, I sent it out to group chats, posted about it on social media, and showed it to my siblings. I was thrilled that I was able to write an article without having any knowledge on how to do so, but I was nervous about the feedback.

Throughout that week, however, I was flooded with compliments from my closest friends, my peers who I had rarely spoken to, and most importantly, his family. They thanked me for writing such a captivating piece.

It was because of that article that I decided to stay in the class. By the end of that year, I was offered the features editor position for my junior year. Today, I’m an executive editor among 2 other amazing journalists.

When that journalist told me to wear my press pass with pride, it made me realize how far I’ve come. I nearly left that class out of fear of not being good enough. Now, I oversee a class of 20 writers and I am proud to call myself a journalist.

As my remaining time on the staff begins to dwindle and I look towards a new chapter in my life, I’m able to reflect on what I’ve learned thus far.

Being a student journalist gave me confidence, not solely as a writer but as a person. Without this experience, I wouldn’t have believed I was capable of taking on leadership roles for numerous publications or being the president of two clubs. I wouldn’t have taken risks. I wouldn’t be the person I am today.

In addition, because of The Knight Crier, I had the privilege of meeting individuals from all walks of life and was given the opportunity to tell their stories. I grew a passion for storytelling, and I can’t imagine where I would be if I had stopped.

Most importantly, I was able to work with an incredible advisor who served as my mentor and inspiration to pursue my passion for journalism, as well as my fellow editors and staff writers who motivate me each and every day to keep being myself.

In the last 3 years, I devoted my soul to journalism, a profession that is essential in our democracy and in life.

Now, when I wear my press pass, what I once saw as nothing more than a piece of paper hung on the end of a cheap lanyard, I no longer wear it with little care in my mind. Instead, I feel empowered.