Up/Down of Being a Journalist

Happy to be up late, happier to not have to get up early tomorrow. All week I've been on assignment to cover the annual Alaska Federation of Natives and surrounding events which meant 12-14 hour days and, god help me, waking up before 8am. It was pretty tiring and now it's done.

I think what's great about being a journalist is getting to enter all these diverse worlds, one after another, receiving just enough education to understand the issues, to report intelligently before moving on to the next assignment or interest. I called myself "something like a dilettante," the other day to an especially clever interviewee and then instantly regretted it because it's not my interest that is fleeting, it is my time. Which truly is and honestly, fleeting, and so this work is conducive to an easily bored person as I am, but there is a downside, too. Often, during that brief education just enough to care, you find yourself really caring and forming a opinion about what it is you're currently becoming well-acquainted with. An opinion that you can't freely express as an impartial journalist which can be frustrating when you're an easily bored but also easily stirred to passion person.

Sometimes I take good advantage of that "impartiality" like when I'm walking out of REI or the market and I'm asked to sign the same petition over and over - "Sorry, I can't," I simply say, thinking to myself that it's fine. But then there are other times when I see, so maddeningly, women continuing have their body rights challenged and I want to fucking scream and make a scene - REALLY ARE WE STILL TELLING HALF THE POPULATION - BUT ONLY THE HALF WITH VAGINAS - WHAT THEY CAN CHOOSE TO DO WITH THEIR BODIES?! Also... POVERTY AND KIDS FALLING THROUGH THE CRACKS!!

It's ironic, I think, feeling somewhat (facebookingly) gagged while I am fortunate to be allowed a public platform to publicize the stories that I get to tell. Which is a good thing, as passionate as I am, that I temper and edit, because no one wants to be the yelling, outraged lady in pajama pants and a tiny backpack making an ALL CAPS scene in line at the coffee house, telling others, "My time is at a premium, hurry it up with the creamer!" and that's what I remember her saying (plus remembering her outfit), but nothing about the purpose underlying that attention-stealing (not attention-grabbing, there's a difference) scene.