Jordan Plotner has lived the most extraordinary life I’ve encountered. Seven months ago, I reached out to him to write a profile for my school newspaper, The Standard. The interview that followed was more meaningful to me than to him. I could run through his life story in remarkable detail – and it is truly remarkable – but I don’t have the space. After nearly two hours, the red “leave meeting” button on Zoom stared at me, but I refused to press it. When we finally closed our conversation, I stared blankly at my laptop screen for a solid minute. After breaking out of awestruck paralysis, I rapidly scribbled illegible notes in my reporter’s notebook. I ripped the pages out of the notebook’s tattered bindings and paper-clipped the pages together, then chucked them in my desk drawer. Every time I need a pencil, a piece of tape, or a notecard, those ink-smudged, folded pages are there to remind me of that interview and of Plotner’s story.
Through my reporting, I’ve encountered an array of sources who have incredibly rich stories and perspectives to share. Jordan relayed his story of discovering a life-changing neurological condition at university, his journey through self-diagnosis and cure, and his triumph in finding a vocation as a successful composer for Hollywood films. A teacher of mine opened up about how he’s evolved his brand of masculinity to become a better father. A DACA recipient cried tears of happiness realizing her legal right to remain in the U.S. will be upheld. These stories moved me, educated me, and inspired me – they still do. I feel compelled to share them with others upholding my responsibility to do them justice. I document their stories in the hopes that others will be similarly moved, educated, and inspired.
The barometers of success in the world of journalism are difficult to see. Naturally, there are times I question if I even achieve this journalistic purpose that is meant to intrinsically drive us. It can seem like every interview question I brainstorm, every word choice I fuss over, and every article I publish is for nothing. But I recall my motivation in the rare moments, when a source reveals a piece of exclusive information or shares a heartfelt story and breaks down.
My purpose has never been to win awards or receive any type of adoration, but I’d be dishonest if I said positive feedback isn’t gratifying. After publishing the Plotner profile, one of my best friends texted me, “Yo this article is straight gas bro… most interesting I’ve read in the last year no cap… Mainstream news articles are utter dog s*** compared to this.” Despite his language, I appreciated that he genuinely enjoyed the profile. I felt like I had done Jordan’s story justice.
It can seem like every interview question I brainstorm, every word choice I fuss over, and every article I publish is for nothing. But I recall my motivation in the rare moments, when a source reveals a piece of exclusive information or shares a heartfelt story and breaks down.
As with any aspiring journalist, the typical figures – Woodward and Bernstein, Walter Cronkite, or Ida B. Wells – inspire me. However, my true journalistic heroes are The Standard editors that came before me and my faculty adviser. Now at the helm of the publication, I strive to emulate their influence while developing my own leadership style. I’ve realized I’m not just managing a team to reach the next deadline, I’m developing a group of young people to equip them with the skills to succeed in any endeavor. Through journalism I found my purpose, so it’s only right that now I share my passion and story-telling skills with the staff members who look up to me.
We perform one of the oldest jobs in the book: communicator. The words we choose and the questions we ask enlighten and educate not only those around us, but generations to come. Some of the earliest reporters – Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John – reported a story that shaped thousands of years of history. Too many write off journalists as mere “middle men”. We are much more.
