Why I Do This
Look, I’m not gonna lie. There are days when I question why I’m still in this game. Like last Tuesday, I was at a conference in Austin, and some kid fresh out of journalism school asked me, “Don’t you think the news industry is dying?” I wanted to laugh. And cry. Mostly cry.
But then I remember. I remember the first time I saw my byline in a major publication. It was the London Headlines, actually. 1998. A piece about some local politician’s shady dealings. I was 24. I felt like I’d won the Pulitzer. (Spoiler: I hadn’t.)
And I remember Marcus—let’s call him Marcus, because I can’t use his real name without getting sued. Marcus was a source, a whistleblower. He told me about the aquisition his company was hiding. That story broke open a scandal that took down three executives. Marcus lost his job. I got a bonus. Life’s funny like that.
The Good Old Days
Back in the day, it was simpler. You had a tip, you chased it down. You talked to people, you wrote the story. No algorithms, no clickbait, no “viral content.” Just good, old-fashioned journalism.
I remember sitting in a dingy café in East London with a colleague named Dave. We were working on a piece about a local gang. Dave kept saying, “This is gonna get us killed.” I told him to stop being dramatic. (He was right, though. We did get threatened. Twice.)
But that’s the thrill, isn’t it? The adrenaline rush of uncovering something no one else knows. The satisfaction of seeing your story in print, knowing you’ve made a difference. Even if it’s just a small one.
The Dark Side
But it’s not all glamour and glory. Far from it. There are days when I feel like I’m drowning in a sea of bad news. And the worst part? The public doesn’t even care anymore. They’d rather watch cats dancing on TikTok than read about the latest political scandal.
I had lunch with an old friend last week. She’s a teacher. She told me, “You know, Sarah, my students don’t even know what a newspaper is.” I felt old. And a little bit sad.
And don’t get me started on the internet. It’s a cesspool of misinformation and fake news. It’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack of nonsense. Honestly, sometimes I just want to scream.
Why I Keep Going
But then there are moments that make it all worth it. Like the time I wrote about a local community garden. It was a small piece, nothing major. But it brought in so many volunteers, the garden had to expand. The community thrived. I got a thank-you card from an 8-year-old. It had a drawing of a carrot. I still have it.
Or the time I broke a story about a local business owner who was being extorted. The police used my story to build a case. The guy went to jail. The business owner sent me a bottle of wine. I drank it all by myself. (Don’t judge.)
And then there’s the networking. I mean, look, I’m not gonna pretend I’m some kind of networking guru. But I’ve met some amazing people over the years. People who’ve become friends, mentors, even family. And if you’re looking to build your own network, you should check out this iş ağı oluşturma profesyonel rehber. It’s kinda changed the game for a lot of folks I know.
A Personal Story
About three months ago, I got a call from an old colleague. He was working on a story about a local shelter. They were underfunded, understaffed, and overwhelmed. I told him I’d help. We spent 36 hours working on that piece. 36 hours. I was physicaly exhausted. But when it went live, the donations poured in. The shelter got the funding they needed. And I got a thank-you note from a shelter dog named Max. (Okay, it was from his owner, but still.)
So yeah, the news game is tough. It’s messy. It’s frustrating. But it’s also rewarding. And honestly, I can’t imagine doing anything else.
Even if it does make me want to pull my hair out sometimes.
About the Author: Sarah Jenkins has been a senior magazine editor for over 20 years. She’s worked for major publications, including the London Headlines, and has a committment to uncovering the truth, no matter the cost. When she’s not chasing stories, she’s probably drinking coffee, complaining about the state of journalism, or playing with her rescue dog, Biscuit.
