My mind only works past midnight.
At least that is what I've come to discover. I just finished a rough draft for an article for a class, and I blogging now because I know this is a time when I can get it done.
College has been a challenge for me. Not in a sense that it's been a lot of work...well...I take that back. It has been busy. But it is challenging at the same time, in a different sense.
Picking a major was like picking a favorite food. Next to impossible for me. I picked journalism because I liked to write and I liked the news. That's it. How was I to know what I wanted to do if I hadn't really experienced it?
So on I trudged. There were so many times when I would receive a writing assignment for an article and just groan. Interviewing people is not my strength. So why, you may ask, am I in journalism? Good question.
After finally getting up the guts to call someone to set up the interview, my stomach would just be churning. Ugh...do I have to do this? I would be so nervous that it would feel like I was being eaten alive. I never felt prepared and I felt like I was so bad at jotting down notes.
But this year has been an entirely different experience.
For an assignment in class, I was to think of someone who has done something amazing or unique and write an article about them. My mind instantly zoomed to a girl I know who had recently gone to Uganda. Exactly what for, I wasn't sure. But it sure was amazing to me that she had gone there.
I contacted her and set up an interview. We met for lunch and she told me her stories. Along with a group from the university, she went to teach Ugandans, specifically Ugandan women, about public health issues. She explained about the northern part of the country that had been ravaged by war, how many children were killed and how these women remained unbelievably strong.
She mentioned something called the Invisible Children. I, being the extreme novice that I am, did not adequately do my research about the country and I had no idea what she was talking about. Either that, or I had been living in a deep, dark closet all these years. Probably the latter.
There has been brutal civil war going on in Uganda and it is still going. A rebel guerilla group known as the Lord's Resistance Army and the Ugandan army continue to wage war, especially on the civilians. No one is safe, especially not the children. They must migrate into the cities to sleep safely at night, for fear of being abducted by the LRA and being forced to be either a killer or a sex slave.
And by children we're talking tens of thousands of children. Tens of thousands of children who are forced to wear guns and kill. Children.
My interviewee taught public health seminars in this area. What amazed her the most was how happy and strong the people were, even though they were going through a brutal civil war.
Had it not been for a documentary, these children would probably still be invisible, almost non-existent. No one really knew this was happening. Three Americans traveled over to Sudan, looking for a story. They ended up in northern Uganda and witnessed these Invisible Children, and they made sure their story was heard.
My interviewee also told of a young man who was their interpreter on the trip. One of his dreams was to come to the United States to study engineering, in the hopes that he could take what he learned back with him to help rebuild his country. He has found a sponsor in the U.S. who is going to pay for his schooling. As she told me this, I got goosebumps.
Being a journalist makes you realize how much you don't know. How much is going on outside your own little bubble, and in a very real way. It isn't a history book that is lectured to me while I slumber safely in my desk; it's a cold, hard slap across the face forcing me to wake up. Each time I interview someone, no matter what it is about, I leave humbled and opened to a different view of the world.
Every person has a story to tell, no matter how small or large. Every person is significant. My job is to somehow pluck out that single thread, and to weave a story from it.
So for now, I'll keep weaving.
To read a recent article of mine, click here.
