Since students in Jour 201 will learn the foundations of journalism and the craft's main two components - reporting and writing of news, this blog space will be used to encourage all sorts of writing, experimentations with leads and other exercises.
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
We begin today with a blog about a turning point in our lives or a significant experience that might make us worthy of a profile (no more than 300 words).
A turning point in my life was the first time I volunteered at a soup kitchen in Washington, DC. Growing up in a financially stable family and having everything I could ever want, I never really saw how some other people live. When I first volunteered at So Others Might Eat (SOME), I was introduced into what seemed like a completely different world. The people who came in for what looked like gross food to me were unbelievably grateful and polite. The people who came in for food thanked me constantly and were extremely friendly. Despite the fact that many of them were homeless or struggling to make an income, these people were still positive and happy as they laughed with each other and enjoyed the food I served them. Volunteering at a food kitchen also made me very grateful for what I have, since I could leave the kitchen and go back to the comfort of my home, many of the people I saw could not do the same.
It was summer and the heat was unbelievable. We sat slumped at the table, hoping that the next sale would be the last. After about ten minutes of complaining and searching for napkins to wipe off the sweat from our foreheads, my classmate’s mother came over and gave us the last $20 we needed to go on the trip. We finally had enough money to go to Costa Rica! However, in the moment, the money signaled something even less significant; we could go home! I hopped into the car with my mom to head home. I closed my eyes and allowed the air conditioning to attack my body. I was so overcome by the relief I felt that I barely heard her phone ring. If I had to estimate, my mother probably spends 65% of her day on the phone. So you can imagine how uninterested I was in her conversation. Well that was until I heard her tone transition to legitimate excitement, something that you’ll never hear during her work calls. “Of course! I’ll be home in about 20 minutes. We can make sure that everything is ready for him as soon as we get there,” she said. I went from apathetic to turning off the buzzing air conditioning and sliding my leg under my butt to position myself towards her. “Lacey, I did something bad,” she said as she bit down on her pointer finger. I laughed, “You seem pretty happy for it to be a bad thing. Who was it?” “It was…social services.” About a year prior, my family took on the grueling process that social services has created to become a foster family. We felt that we had more than enough and we wanted share it with others who needed it. The process is so extensive that it took over a year to complete it. The talk of background checks, house inspections, letters of recommendation seemed to never end in my household. Lo and behold, we got a call from them with their first placement request. “They said they have a little boy who needs to stay with us for the weekend. His mother brought him into their office earlier today because she is homeless and can’t take care of him right now.” I was elated, I had been waiting for this day for the past 6 months, “that isn’t a bad thing at all! Drive faster, we need to get home now!” “Well, he is 3 months old,” my mother whispered through her teeth. During the process, my parents set up a few simple rules so that they would be on the same page. They weren’t going to accept placements for boys that were significantly older than me; I was 12 at the time, and as for the other rule, absolutely no babies. “It will just be for the weekend! So no one will have to adjust his or her schedules. He has court on Monday so they can place him in a permanent foster home.” What was supposed to be a weekend, turned into years. Today, Lestat is 6 years old. He is in school, he is learning to read, and he is a great swimmer! Although, he didn’t come into my life the way most siblings do, I stand firm in my position as his big sister. I am so proud to be a part of his life and I enjoy watching him grow. His presence changed my life, my family, and how I see the world. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
When I was ten years old, my parents bought decided that our family should own a video camera. I was quite the dork back in the day, and this new piece of technology excited me. I quickly learned how to use the camera and the video editing software. I would often make videso for school projects. Occasionally, I would create a silly video in my spare time, but I would never share it with others. As I got older, I became more interested in video editing. I purchased more sophisticated software, and I started creating videos for my school news to advertise events. When I came to college, I began to miss my video creating days, so I made silly videos with my friends and shared them on FaceBook. Suddenly, making videos became my “thing.” My friends knew me as “Mr. YouTube.” I started vlogging, and purchased a very expensive camera so that I could capture all of my videos in HD. Excluding a large gathering of internet trolls, my videos very rarely got many views. However, they began to attract the attention of people on campus, including SGA students, and my boss. I began to make videos for the SGA Student Sustainability Committee to announce their What Will You(MD) Do? Pledge program. Another SGA committee asked me to make videos for them, but unfortunately, I had to decline. Towards the end of this semester, my boss at the Office of Sustainability suggested me for a Communications internship. I eagerly accepted, and during my first week, was asked to draft video scripts and plan video ideas for the office. I don’t know how, but my silly work with a camera soon gave me a reputation on campus, and landed me an internship. A small hobby suddenly became very useful.
Life cannot be explained. Things happen for a reason and no one can explain why. I continuously asked myself why I was the one who had to go through something like this, something that can change a person’s life so suddenly and drastically. I was only 19 years old when I found out I had kidney failure. I spent two and half weeks at Georgetown University Hospital being hooked up to a dialysis machine, getting tests done, and learning about how I had to proceed from this point. After I was released, I had to continue going to dialysis 3 days a week for 3 hours. It acted as an “artificial kidney” as they called it and it basically was what was keeping me alive. Along with dialysis, I had a very strict diet. I had to monitor everything I ate and I couldn't eat a lot of foods that people take for granted. This was a very hard time in my life especially because I couldn't do everything that everyone else was doing. I had to take on a greater responsibility that some people didn't understand. Thankfully, within a year I received a kidney transplant from my dad and I seriously feel like I owe him the world. Post transplant, I am able to live a more normal life besides taking my medications and routine follow-ups. Sometimes, I look back and think how terrible that period of my life was, but today I can say that I overcame a huge obstacle and I think it has truly made me a better and much stronger person.
It’s summer time and a friend told me earlier about a party in D.C. I rushed home feeling eager to dance as I just graduated 2 days ago. Once home I told my parents I was planning to take the car out for a party close by, my mother with a serious face said “ Okay Omar. What time you getting back here?” I responded with a smile “ Around 1 a.m. “ As I’m going to my room my mom shouts “BE CAREFUL!
I decided to wear a brown shirt, dark denim jeans and brown shoes. Looking at the time it’s 10:30p.m. I’m late but if I know my friend, Tre, I’m early. Walking out the door and starting the car I receive a text. The text read “meet me at M&T Bank.” Once I arrive I noticed his car had a few people inside. I park next to him and he says “Hey Omar, I invited four other people” I don’t know any of them and I responded “ …Okay” He asked if two of them can ride with me, feeling uncomfortable I just went along. As we are preparing to go, I notice two cop cars entering the parking lot. Tre’s car is now being searched by the first patrol car. I’m driving behind the bank when my two passengers said they have marihuana and liquor. They look no older than 16. I’m panicking as I am considered an adult. I drive past the second cop car and by some divine miracle he does not stop me. I drive to a nearby parking lot relieved. This experience changed my life because it made me think deeply whom I consider my friend.
I’m entirely invested in broadcast journalism. Personally, broadcast journalism is more than just a major; it’s a way of living- unlike any other career. A creative and unique way I enjoy developing myself, as an aspiring reporter in my free time, is to go on ride-a-longs with law enforcement and first responders. Going on ride-a-longs allows me to be out in the field near possible breaking news and the ability to network and expand my knowledge. For example, Labor Day weekend I was able to go on a ride-a-long with the LE in Prince Georges County and observe the system they use to retrieve calls in which they respond to while working out in the field. Additionally, I was able to observe the suspects and different walks of life that LE encountered on a day-to-day basis during a ‘normal’ shift. My passion for broadcast journalism has significantly shaped how I’ve built my life around every decision that I’ve made and continues to do so.
Since the age of 10, if not earlier, I knew I wanted to be a reporter. I’ve identified that I really have a passion for investigative reporting and hard news. Eventually, I would love to travel and report on major stories around the world on cartels, the war on drugs and illicit drug use. It’s apparent the media is changing, but what will remain the same is: no matter what medium is used there will always be a need for someone to tell a story.
Like most children, I would ask several questions within the span of minutes. At a young age, I would even talk while brushing my teeth! As I grew older, I felt compelled to find out why things were the way they were and the reasoning behind it. I enjoyed understanding reasons and still enjoyed talking, but there was more to develop as to why I want to be a reporter. Currently, I still have the same passion and spark to become a reporter. However, I’ve realized how important it is to have an open mind and keep all personal opinions to your self while reporting because it’s important to not taint any information or be bias. In short, I want to be a reporter because reporters keep the public informed. I want to change how the media is negatively perceived.
There’s an infinite amount of skill sets I’ve acquired working for a syndicated TV show and two local TV stations in a top ten market. However, I know there’s no limit to what someone can learn. The sky’s the limit when it comes to growth and opportunities available in the field as long as you’re ambitious and keep an open mind.
I have always felt throughout my life that I grew up faster than people my own age. I have dealt with more obstacles than some have their entire lives. My mother always told me, “ God gives the toughest people the obstacles because God knows they can push through them,” I just did not necessarily know why God picked me. It was very difficult for me to stay positive about life when I always felt as though something was always being taken away from me being filled with negativity and loss.
At the age of six, my father passed away from a stage four Glioblastoma brain tumor. It was malignant and took the most important man in my life away from me. As, I was getting older, I was always told to be appreciative to have my mother still around, but it was difficult to not be in constant fear that I would lose her too. When I was in the 7th grade, my fear almost became a reality, when my mother too was diagnosed with cancer. Her process was more vivid for me. I remember how she told my sister and me for the first time that she was diagnosed. I remember her doctors’ appointments and chemotherapy visits and the first time she shaved her head on my 14th birthday.
At this point in life, I hated the world, questioned my faith, and wondered how could someone my age experience losing both of her parents from the same awful monster, cancer. I constantly was angry, bitter, and negative about everything and it was bringing people around me down as well. There was a turning point in my life when I realized that I was not going to lose my mom and that she would be there for me throughout my milestones in life. Soon, my mom began to feel better, her hair started to grow back, and she became healthier. My mother has been in remission ever since, and I can honestly say my prayers were answered.
I realized I could not live in negativity any longer. I was granted the best gift anyone could ask for and did not have to feel loss. From that moment on, I have lived my life with positivity and happiness, because after so much sadness and loss, the good things that happen have to be appreciated even more.
I believe that our many significant experiences in life are what make us the people we are. Every so often we come across an experience that truly changes our perspective, either for better or for worse. A major turning point in my life was the first summer that I worked as a camp counselor at the age of 17. Having been a camper all my life before that summer, it was an interesting change now becoming a part of the other side. I lived with twenty-five 10 year olds and 3 other co-counselors, and the responsibility that was in front of me was more than I ever had experienced. Not only was it my responsibility to keep these kids safe, but it was my priority to make sure they had the best summer of their lives. I think the most important quality in a person is their ability to act selfless. My job that summer really opened my eyes and gave me perspective on what it takes to be a selfless person. My purpose for being at that summer camp was for the benefit of others and it showed me a lot about my self during the experience. I’m not afraid to admit that maybe I was not that selfless of a person prior to that experience, and I definitely was not as careful or responsible. That summer taught me a lot about myself, and my abilities to work with others. Working at a summer camp and watching a bunch of kids have the time of their lives running around wild and free like nothing matters was one of the most rewarding experiences that I could have, especially knowing that I was a major contribution to it. I believe that my significant experience makes me worthy of a profile.
It was three days after my 21st birthday, I was getting ready to go to school when my mother walked into my room and told me that the police were at the front door looking for me. When I went to the door two police officers stood waiting for me, when they saw me one of them said “Mr.Barber we have a warrant for your arrest.” Panic rushed over me in unrelenting waves. After they led me away from my house in handcuffs the waves of panic subsided and in their place confusion. While I had been something of a troublemaker I had not done anything in a few months that would warrant a warrant. It would not be until I arrived at the county lock up that I would learn of what misdeed had finally caught up to me. They gave me the arrest documents and I saw, to my dismay, what cruel betrayal had lead me to this point, an acquaintance of mine made his living by snitching for the police and had set me up to be his next payday. This individual a few months before my arrest had convinced me through a long and manipulative course of events to sell some medicine I was prescribed to his ‘cousin’ who turned out to be a fellow paid informant. Needless to say, I was shattered. Harsh realities that were previously unknown to me made themselves clear and the whole experience start to finish would prove to be one of the hardest but best lessons learned . The experience taught me to respect, fear, and hate the American justice system. I learned just how accountable I was for my own actions and that only fools are trusting.
Quelling the Storms: A Conversation on a Beautiful Day
It was sometime later in July last year when I called Bradford to come meet me at one of our favorite hangout spots, the Severn Heights community pier. I had sat there for about an hour before I called him, and by the time I had I was still unsure whether or not I had made the right decision. We always came here to talk about the important stuff, the stuff we didn’t talk about when we were with the boys. That day was sunnier than it had been all month. The water was still and the warm, summer-yellow light glistened across the river. There was a calm, whispering breeze blowing toward the pier. Bubbles of clouds dotted the sky here and there. Everything seemed picaresque. Everything seemed serene. It was. There was no chance that a storm would come interrupt this peace. Well, not in the way where storm clouds would blot out the horizon. Brad arrived about fifteen minutes later following the call. Just like always, we hugged, said “what’s up,” and finished our ritual with the traditional exchange of insults. We sat down at the center of the pier, just like always. We began to talk. I never told anyone about what I was about tell Bradford. I have dealt with depression since I was about 10-years-old. It smacks me like a brick wall when it hits. I lose my composure, motivation, compassion and self-worth. I hide away from the world. I crawl under my covers and just lay there thinking for hours about how sad I am. What makes it worse; I realize how sad it is thinking about how sad I am. These were the storm clouds that didn’t blot out the horizon that day down by the pier. I figured that my best friend needed to know about this; that’s what best friends do, right? Well, I began to unravel the whole truth to Bradford. The reasons why I skipped out on band practice, why I ignored our friends’ phone calls, why I missed his birthday party, why I fell out of contact when we went to college and the reason why I called him down to the river. My depression got to the point where it scared me; I just wanted to talk about it with someone. Going into the conversation, I had no idea what to expect. I didn’t know if he’d respond with the generic “it’s ok, man,” or if he’d be entirely uncomfortable. But by the time I had given him my story, by the time I had left myself most vulnerable and exposed myself, he did something unexpected. He stood up, then he told me to stand up too. When our eyes met, he embraced me with bear hug and did not let go. I was stunned. I didn’t know how to respond. I felt something run down my face. I wrapped my arms around him and let the tears gush out. This was catharsis. It was if the storm clouds that left my mind wallowing in the dark finally precipitated and faded away. My mind finally felt clear, I felt in tune with the day. After our long embrace, Bradford grabbed me by the shoulders and looked me square in the eyes. I noticed his eyes were red, and at first I thought I was just looking at a reflection of my bloodshot eyes. “You don’t ever have to feel alone, Ryan. I f*%king love you. I don’t know if I’ll ever understand what you go through, but know that I will always be here for you. Ryan, I want you to understand that you are not alone. I love you man.” Ever since that day down by the pier, things have begun to turn around for me. Even though I had a couple rough bouts this past year, I sought help and things have been better overall. Almost everyday, I call Bradford and we just talk about things. Almost everyday, I feel happier.
The life of a human being is littered with moments of importance and clarity. These instances are stored away in inner folders and catalogue change in a human’s life. Every once in a while, when asked the question of “what was a significant moment in your life?” we can access these folders and pull out these moments which define us as individuals.
If I have to pick one moment that truly flipped my world upside down, it would have to be last summer when I attended a protest in support of an anti- Kremlin activist and politic, Aleksey Navalny. The day beforehand, Navalny was imprisoned on bogus corruption charges by the government, so people gathered in the center of the city to show their disdain for the government, but also their support for Navalny. This moment was incredibly powerful for me not only because I am a supporter of this particular politician, but also because it is not an everyday occurrence to see Russian individuals gathering to support anything (unless it’s rallies in support of the government which are financed by the government). We are a secretive people, still plagued by the not so distant memories of gulag camps and massive arrests. So when ten thousand individuals surround the Red Square, yeah, it’s a big deal and it’s a shift in our countries history.
What was beautiful about the protest was the variety in age of those attending. The young, middle aged, elderly, everyone was gathered to support an anti- Kremlin politician.
The next day Navalny was released from captivity, but the energy which I felt that day at the protest and the faces that I saw can never be erased from my memory. From that day forward, I started getting incredibly involved in Russian politics and news.
The cultural shock I experienced after my unexpected move from Tennessee during my senior year of high school helped me find my identity, which is leading me to the next step after college. The change has opened my eyes to a new future that I had never imagined before. I grew up in a rural suburb just outside of Knoxville, Tennessee where I was often the only Asian girl in my grade. Most of my friends growing up were Caucasian while I began to lose my Korean language and culture. It was not just race that lacked diversity, but also religion and other interests that make my hometown seem like a small bubble separated from the rest of the world. When I found out I was moving, I had no idea where Maryland even was on the map. Embarrassingly, I Googled Bethesda, MD—to my relief, it was near DC, the capital somewhat familiar. Though my initial move was difficult, I am so thankful I was forced to make this move, especially after ending up at the University of Maryland. I appreciate the diversity I see everyday walking on campus, where I have met not only a ridiculous amount of other Asians, but also other backgrounds and ethnicities never before familiar in Tennessee. This has grown even more after moving to Hyattsville and Adelphi, a huge immigrant community. Through this, I found that I want to minor in Asian American studies and find a career dedicated to the Asian American Pacific community. When I visit Tennessee every few months, I cannot imagine the person I would be if I had stayed. I may not have gone to college like most of my peers and be stuck in Tennessee without being aware of the unlimited opportunities out there. This idea inspires me to move again after college- specifically to California, and to expect and accept new changes in the future.
Since the beginning of this year I have been blooming as a person more than I ever have before. After years of lostness and confusion about who I am, I am finally starting to find my path. I am willing to try new things, go new places, and just be alive. I still don’t have everything figured out but who does? At some point in life it’s good to open your eyes and enjoy the world around you, I choose to do so now. Hopefully I will inspire some of you to do the same. As a teenager I was ecstatic about entering college at Old Dominion University to venture off on my own and gain new experiences. My social life started growing as I began to create strong bonds and friendships with people. I joined clubs, went to events, and even joined a sorority during my time at Old Dominion.
In the midst of creating my social path at school, my academics were placed on the back burner. My grades began to suffer and my academic future was becoming unclear. I had noticed this pattern in my academic performance and realized that it was time to make a change before it was too late. Since transferring to the University of Maryland I have began to witness myself grow spiritually, mentally, and academically. Being in a new headspace as made me realize how distracted I was at school. When I transferred here I didn’t know many people which forced me to spend more time reflecting. The new environment at College Park has allowed me to start fresh and begin to focus on my future. In doing that, I have had more time to discover who I am and what I enjoy to do. Initially I was devastated about leaving my friends and sorority sisters. Then I quickly realized that I should be more concerned about getting an excellent education and excelling in my field of study. After coming to this conclusion my move has brought nothing but positivity in my life. I’m ecstatic to continue on my journey of self-love, enlightenment, and growth.
The transition from high school to college is one of the most stressful times adolescents endure. Its not easy to join a new community, one in which I did not have many friends, as well as my struggle to find a feel for the new workload that comes along with a college education. On top of this leaving for college meant that I was leaving behind my father who was in the care of hospice as a result of his losing battle with cancer. The idea of defaulting on my first semester ran through my head on a daily basis. It was a tough decision to leave my dad, but we both knew it was the right one. On September 11, 2014 my dad passed away. While it was an extremely heartfelt loss throughout the ranks of my family, we were able to find relief in my father's ability to finally rest. In one of the last few conversations between my dad and I we spoke of a 110 round boxing match that lasted 7 hours long. This was the legacy he wanted to leave me with as I was able to witness the every day fight he put up for his family, and the things he loved. August 28th, 2015 was the last time my dad and I ever exchanged words with each other in person. I am now the only male in my house and my responsibility to my family has become larger, Sometimes its difficult, but the lessons my dad left me with provide me the strength and courage to keep my head up and succeed in times of adversity.
A turning point in my life was the first time I volunteered at a soup kitchen in Washington, DC. Growing up in a financially stable family and having everything I could ever want, I never really saw how some other people live. When I first volunteered at So Others Might Eat (SOME), I was introduced into what seemed like a completely different world. The people who came in for what looked like gross food to me were unbelievably grateful and polite. The people who came in for food thanked me constantly and were extremely friendly. Despite the fact that many of them were homeless or struggling to make an income, these people were still positive and happy as they laughed with each other and enjoyed the food I served them. Volunteering at a food kitchen also made me very grateful for what I have, since I could leave the kitchen and go back to the comfort of my home, many of the people I saw could not do the same.
ReplyDeleteIt was summer and the heat was unbelievable. We sat slumped at the table, hoping that the next sale would be the last. After about ten minutes of complaining and searching for napkins to wipe off the sweat from our foreheads, my classmate’s mother came over and gave us the last $20 we needed to go on the trip. We finally had enough money to go to Costa Rica! However, in the moment, the money signaled something even less significant; we could go home!
ReplyDeleteI hopped into the car with my mom to head home. I closed my eyes and allowed the air conditioning to attack my body. I was so overcome by the relief I felt that I barely heard her phone ring. If I had to estimate, my mother probably spends 65% of her day on the phone. So you can imagine how uninterested I was in her conversation. Well that was until I heard her tone transition to legitimate excitement, something that you’ll never hear during her work calls.
“Of course! I’ll be home in about 20 minutes. We can make sure that everything is ready for him as soon as we get there,” she said.
I went from apathetic to turning off the buzzing air conditioning and sliding my leg under my butt to position myself towards her.
“Lacey, I did something bad,” she said as she bit down on her pointer finger.
I laughed, “You seem pretty happy for it to be a bad thing. Who was it?”
“It was…social services.”
About a year prior, my family took on the grueling process that social services has created to become a foster family. We felt that we had more than enough and we wanted share it with others who needed it. The process is so extensive that it took over a year to complete it. The talk of background checks, house inspections, letters of recommendation seemed to never end in my household. Lo and behold, we got a call from them with their first placement request.
“They said they have a little boy who needs to stay with us for the weekend. His mother brought him into their office earlier today because she is homeless and can’t take care of him right now.”
I was elated, I had been waiting for this day for the past 6 months, “that isn’t a bad thing at all! Drive faster, we need to get home now!”
“Well, he is 3 months old,” my mother whispered through her teeth.
During the process, my parents set up a few simple rules so that they would be on the same page. They weren’t going to accept placements for boys that were significantly older than me; I was 12 at the time, and as for the other rule, absolutely no babies.
“It will just be for the weekend! So no one will have to adjust his or her schedules. He has court on Monday so they can place him in a permanent foster home.”
What was supposed to be a weekend, turned into years. Today, Lestat is 6 years old. He is in school, he is learning to read, and he is a great swimmer! Although, he didn’t come into my life the way most siblings do, I stand firm in my position as his big sister. I am so proud to be a part of his life and I enjoy watching him grow. His presence changed my life, my family, and how I see the world. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
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ReplyDeleteWhen I was ten years old, my parents bought decided that our family should own a video camera. I was quite the dork back in the day, and this new piece of technology excited me. I quickly learned how to use the camera and the video editing software. I would often make videso for school projects. Occasionally, I would create a silly video in my spare time, but I would never share it with others.
ReplyDeleteAs I got older, I became more interested in video editing. I purchased more sophisticated software, and I started creating videos for my school news to advertise events. When I came to college, I began to miss my video creating days, so I made silly videos with my friends and shared them on FaceBook.
Suddenly, making videos became my “thing.” My friends knew me as “Mr. YouTube.” I started vlogging, and purchased a very expensive camera so that I could capture all of my videos in HD.
Excluding a large gathering of internet trolls, my videos very rarely got many views. However, they began to attract the attention of people on campus, including SGA students, and my boss.
I began to make videos for the SGA Student Sustainability Committee to announce their What Will You(MD) Do? Pledge program. Another SGA committee asked me to make videos for them, but unfortunately, I had to decline. Towards the end of this semester, my boss at the Office of Sustainability suggested me for a Communications internship. I eagerly accepted, and during my first week, was asked to draft video scripts and plan video ideas for the office.
I don’t know how, but my silly work with a camera soon gave me a reputation on campus, and landed me an internship. A small hobby suddenly became very useful.
Life cannot be explained. Things happen for a reason and no one can explain why. I continuously asked myself why I was the one who had to go through something like this, something that can change a person’s life so suddenly and drastically. I was only 19 years old when I found out I had kidney failure. I spent two and half weeks at Georgetown University Hospital being hooked up to a dialysis machine, getting tests done, and learning about how I had to proceed from this point. After I was released, I had to continue going to dialysis 3 days a week for 3 hours. It acted as an “artificial kidney” as they called it and it basically was what was keeping me alive. Along with dialysis, I had a very strict diet. I had to monitor everything I ate and I couldn't eat a lot of foods that people take for granted. This was a very hard time in my life especially because I couldn't do everything that everyone else was doing. I had to take on a greater responsibility that some people didn't understand. Thankfully, within a year I received a kidney transplant from my dad and I seriously feel like I owe him the world. Post transplant, I am able to live a more normal life besides taking my medications and routine follow-ups. Sometimes, I look back and think how terrible that period of my life was, but today I can say that I overcame a huge obstacle and I think it has truly made me a better and much stronger person.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteA Night of Fun Almost Ruined my Life.
ReplyDeleteIt’s summer time and a friend told me earlier about a party in D.C. I rushed home feeling eager to dance as I just graduated 2 days ago. Once home I told my parents I was planning to take the car out for a party close by, my mother with a serious face said “ Okay Omar. What time you getting back here?” I responded with a smile “ Around 1 a.m. “ As I’m going to my room my mom shouts “BE CAREFUL!
I decided to wear a brown shirt, dark denim jeans and brown shoes. Looking at the time it’s 10:30p.m. I’m late but if I know my friend, Tre, I’m early. Walking out the door and starting the car I receive a text. The text read “meet me at M&T Bank.” Once I arrive I noticed his car had a few people inside. I park next to him and he says “Hey Omar, I invited four other people” I don’t know any of them and I responded “ …Okay” He asked if two of them can ride with me, feeling uncomfortable I just went along. As we are preparing to go, I notice two cop cars entering the parking lot. Tre’s car is now being searched by the first patrol car. I’m driving behind the bank when my two passengers said they have marihuana and liquor. They look no older than 16. I’m panicking as I am considered an adult. I drive past the second cop car and by some divine miracle he does not stop me. I drive to a nearby parking lot relieved. This experience changed my life because it made me think deeply whom I consider my friend.
I’m entirely invested in broadcast journalism. Personally, broadcast journalism is more than just a major; it’s a way of living- unlike any other career. A creative and unique way I enjoy developing myself, as an aspiring reporter in my free time, is to go on ride-a-longs with law enforcement and first responders. Going on ride-a-longs allows me to be out in the field near possible breaking news and the ability to network and expand my knowledge. For example, Labor Day weekend I was able to go on a ride-a-long with the LE in Prince Georges County and observe the system they use to retrieve calls in which they respond to while working out in the field. Additionally, I was able to observe the suspects and different walks of life that LE encountered on a day-to-day basis during a ‘normal’ shift. My passion for broadcast journalism has significantly shaped how I’ve built my life around every decision that I’ve made and continues to do so.
ReplyDeleteSince the age of 10, if not earlier, I knew I wanted to be a reporter. I’ve identified that I really have a passion for investigative reporting and hard news. Eventually, I would love to travel and report on major stories around the world on cartels, the war on drugs and illicit drug use. It’s apparent the media is changing, but what will remain the same is: no matter what medium is used there will always be a need for someone to tell a story.
Like most children, I would ask several questions within the span of minutes. At a young age, I would even talk while brushing my teeth! As I grew older, I felt compelled to find out why things were the way they were and the reasoning behind it. I enjoyed understanding reasons and still enjoyed talking, but there was more to develop as to why I want to be a reporter. Currently, I still have the same passion and spark to become a reporter. However, I’ve realized how important it is to have an open mind and keep all personal opinions to your self while reporting because it’s important to not taint any information or be bias. In short, I want to be a reporter because reporters keep the public informed. I want to change how the media is negatively perceived.
There’s an infinite amount of skill sets I’ve acquired working for a syndicated TV show and two local TV stations in a top ten market. However, I know there’s no limit to what someone can learn. The sky’s the limit when it comes to growth and opportunities available in the field as long as you’re ambitious and keep an open mind.
I have always felt throughout my life that I grew up faster than people my own age. I have dealt with more obstacles than some have their entire lives. My mother always told me, “ God gives the toughest people the obstacles because God knows they can push through them,” I just did not necessarily know why God picked me. It was very difficult for me to stay positive about life when I always felt as though something was always being taken away from me being filled with negativity and loss.
ReplyDeleteAt the age of six, my father passed away from a stage four Glioblastoma brain tumor. It was malignant and took the most important man in my life away from me. As, I was getting older, I was always told to be appreciative to have my mother still around, but it was difficult to not be in constant fear that I would lose her too. When I was in the 7th grade, my fear almost became a reality, when my mother too was diagnosed with cancer. Her process was more vivid for me. I remember how she told my sister and me for the first time that she was diagnosed. I remember her doctors’ appointments and chemotherapy visits and the first time she shaved her head on my 14th birthday.
At this point in life, I hated the world, questioned my faith, and wondered how could someone my age experience losing both of her parents from the same awful monster, cancer. I constantly was angry, bitter, and negative about everything and it was bringing people around me down as well.
There was a turning point in my life when I realized that I was not going to lose my mom and that she would be there for me throughout my milestones in life. Soon, my mom began to feel better, her hair started to grow back, and she became healthier. My mother has been in remission ever since, and I can honestly say my prayers were answered.
I realized I could not live in negativity any longer. I was granted the best gift anyone could ask for and did not have to feel loss. From that moment on, I have lived my life with positivity and happiness, because after so much sadness and loss, the good things that happen have to be appreciated even more.
I believe that our many significant experiences in life are what make us the people we are. Every so often we come across an experience that truly changes our perspective, either for better or for worse. A major turning point in my life was the first summer that I worked as a camp counselor at the age of 17. Having been a camper all my life before that summer, it was an interesting change now becoming a part of the other side. I lived with twenty-five 10 year olds and 3 other co-counselors, and the responsibility that was in front of me was more than I ever had experienced. Not only was it my responsibility to keep these kids safe, but it was my priority to make sure they had the best summer of their lives. I think the most important quality in a person is their ability to act selfless. My job that summer really opened my eyes and gave me perspective on what it takes to be a selfless person. My purpose for being at that summer camp was for the benefit of others and it showed me a lot about my self during the experience. I’m not afraid to admit that maybe I was not that selfless of a person prior to that experience, and I definitely was not as careful or responsible. That summer taught me a lot about myself, and my abilities to work with others. Working at a summer camp and watching a bunch of kids have the time of their lives running around wild and free like nothing matters was one of the most rewarding experiences that I could have, especially knowing that I was a major contribution to it. I believe that my significant experience makes me worthy of a profile.
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ReplyDeleteIt was three days after my 21st birthday, I was getting ready to go to school when my mother walked into my room and told me that the police were at the front door looking for me. When I went to the door two police officers stood waiting for me, when they saw me one of them said “Mr.Barber we have a warrant for your arrest.”
ReplyDeletePanic rushed over me in unrelenting waves. After they led me away from my house in handcuffs the waves of panic subsided and in their place confusion. While I had been something of a troublemaker I had not done anything in a few months that would warrant a warrant. It would not be until I arrived at the county lock up that I would learn of what misdeed had finally caught up to me. They gave me the arrest documents and I saw, to my dismay, what cruel betrayal had lead me to this point, an acquaintance of mine made his living by snitching for the police and had set me up to be his next payday. This individual a few months before my arrest had convinced me through a long and manipulative course of events to sell some medicine I was prescribed to his ‘cousin’ who turned out to be a fellow paid informant.
Needless to say, I was shattered. Harsh realities that were previously unknown to me made themselves clear and the whole experience start to finish would prove to be one of the hardest but best lessons learned . The experience taught me to respect, fear, and hate the American justice system. I learned just how accountable I was for my own actions and that only fools are trusting.
Quelling the Storms: A Conversation on a Beautiful Day
ReplyDeleteIt was sometime later in July last year when I called Bradford to come meet me at one of our favorite hangout spots, the Severn Heights community pier. I had sat there for about an hour before I called him, and by the time I had I was still unsure whether or not I had made the right decision. We always came here to talk about the important stuff, the stuff we didn’t talk about when we were with the boys.
That day was sunnier than it had been all month. The water was still and the warm, summer-yellow light glistened across the river. There was a calm, whispering breeze blowing toward the pier. Bubbles of clouds dotted the sky here and there. Everything seemed picaresque. Everything seemed serene. It was.
There was no chance that a storm would come interrupt this peace. Well, not in the way where storm clouds would blot out the horizon.
Brad arrived about fifteen minutes later following the call. Just like always, we hugged, said “what’s up,” and finished our ritual with the traditional exchange of insults. We sat down at the center of the pier, just like always.
We began to talk.
I never told anyone about what I was about tell Bradford. I have dealt with depression since I was about 10-years-old. It smacks me like a brick wall when it hits. I lose my composure, motivation, compassion and self-worth. I hide away from the world. I crawl under my covers and just lay there thinking for hours about how sad I am. What makes it worse; I realize how sad it is thinking about how sad I am.
These were the storm clouds that didn’t blot out the horizon that day down by the pier.
I figured that my best friend needed to know about this; that’s what best friends do, right? Well, I began to unravel the whole truth to Bradford. The reasons why I skipped out on band practice, why I ignored our friends’ phone calls, why I missed his birthday party, why I fell out of contact when we went to college and the reason why I called him down to the river. My depression got to the point where it scared me; I just wanted to talk about it with someone.
Going into the conversation, I had no idea what to expect. I didn’t know if he’d respond with the generic “it’s ok, man,” or if he’d be entirely uncomfortable. But by the time I had given him my story, by the time I had left myself most vulnerable and exposed myself, he did something unexpected. He stood up, then he told me to stand up too. When our eyes met, he embraced me with bear hug and did not let go.
I was stunned. I didn’t know how to respond. I felt something run down my face. I wrapped my arms around him and let the tears gush out. This was catharsis.
It was if the storm clouds that left my mind wallowing in the dark finally precipitated and faded away. My mind finally felt clear, I felt in tune with the day.
After our long embrace, Bradford grabbed me by the shoulders and looked me square in the eyes. I noticed his eyes were red, and at first I thought I was just looking at a reflection of my bloodshot eyes.
“You don’t ever have to feel alone, Ryan. I f*%king love you. I don’t know if I’ll ever understand what you go through, but know that I will always be here for you. Ryan, I want you to understand that you are not alone. I love you man.”
Ever since that day down by the pier, things have begun to turn around for me. Even though I had a couple rough bouts this past year, I sought help and things have been better overall.
Almost everyday, I call Bradford and we just talk about things. Almost everyday, I feel happier.
The life of a human being is littered with moments of importance and clarity. These instances are stored away in inner folders and catalogue change in a human’s life. Every once in a while, when asked the question of “what was a significant moment in your life?” we can access these folders and pull out these moments which define us as individuals.
ReplyDeleteIf I have to pick one moment that truly flipped my world upside down, it would have to be last summer when I attended a protest in support of an anti- Kremlin activist and politic, Aleksey Navalny. The day beforehand, Navalny was imprisoned on bogus corruption charges by the government, so people gathered in the center of the city to show their disdain for the government, but also their support for Navalny.
This moment was incredibly powerful for me not only because I am a supporter of this particular politician, but also because it is not an everyday occurrence to see Russian individuals gathering to support anything (unless it’s rallies in support of the government which are financed by the government). We are a secretive people, still plagued by the not so distant memories of gulag camps and massive arrests. So when ten thousand individuals surround the Red Square, yeah, it’s a big deal and it’s a shift in our countries history.
What was beautiful about the protest was the variety in age of those attending. The young, middle aged, elderly, everyone was gathered to support an anti- Kremlin politician.
The next day Navalny was released from captivity, but the energy which I felt that day at the protest and the faces that I saw can never be erased from my memory. From that day forward, I started getting incredibly involved in Russian politics and news.
The cultural shock I experienced after my unexpected move from Tennessee during my senior year of high school helped me find my identity, which is leading me to the next step after college. The change has opened my eyes to a new future that I had never imagined before. I grew up in a rural suburb just outside of Knoxville, Tennessee where I was often the only Asian girl in my grade. Most of my friends growing up were Caucasian while I began to lose my Korean language and culture. It was not just race that lacked diversity, but also religion and other interests that make my hometown seem like a small bubble separated from the rest of the world. When I found out I was moving, I had no idea where Maryland even was on the map. Embarrassingly, I Googled Bethesda, MD—to my relief, it was near DC, the capital somewhat familiar. Though my initial move was difficult, I am so thankful I was forced to make this move, especially after ending up at the University of Maryland. I appreciate the diversity I see everyday walking on campus, where I have met not only a ridiculous amount of other Asians, but also other backgrounds and ethnicities never before familiar in Tennessee. This has grown even more after moving to Hyattsville and Adelphi, a huge immigrant community. Through this, I found that I want to minor in Asian American studies and find a career dedicated to the Asian American Pacific community. When I visit Tennessee every few months, I cannot imagine the person I would be if I had stayed. I may not have gone to college like most of my peers and be stuck in Tennessee without being aware of the unlimited opportunities out there. This idea inspires me to move again after college- specifically to California, and to expect and accept new changes in the future.
ReplyDeleteNew Beginnings
ReplyDeleteSince the beginning of this year I have been blooming as a person more than I ever have before. After years of lostness and confusion about who I am, I am finally starting to find my path. I am willing to try new things, go new places, and just be alive. I still don’t have everything figured out but who does? At some point in life it’s good to open your eyes and enjoy the world around you, I choose to do so now. Hopefully I will inspire some of you to do the same. As a teenager I was ecstatic about entering college at Old Dominion University to venture off on my own and gain new experiences. My social life started growing as I began to create strong bonds and friendships with people. I joined clubs, went to events, and even joined a sorority during my time at Old Dominion.
In the midst of creating my social path at school, my academics were placed on the back burner. My grades began to suffer and my academic future was becoming unclear. I had noticed this pattern in my academic performance and realized that it was time to make a change before it was too late. Since transferring to the University of Maryland I have began to witness myself grow spiritually, mentally, and academically. Being in a new headspace as made me realize how distracted I was at school. When I transferred here I didn’t know many people which forced me to spend more time reflecting. The new environment at College Park has allowed me to start fresh and begin to focus on my future. In doing that, I have had more time to discover who I am and what I enjoy to do. Initially I was devastated about leaving my friends and sorority sisters. Then I quickly realized that I should be more concerned about getting an excellent education and excelling in my field of study. After coming to this conclusion my move has brought nothing but positivity in my life. I’m ecstatic to continue on my journey of self-love, enlightenment, and growth.
The transition from high school to college is one of the most stressful times adolescents endure. Its not easy to join a new community, one in which I did not have many friends, as well as my struggle to find a feel for the new workload that comes along with a college education. On top of this leaving for college meant that I was leaving behind my father who was in the care of hospice as a result of his losing battle with cancer. The idea of defaulting on my first semester ran through my head on a daily basis. It was a tough decision to leave my dad, but we both knew it was the right one. On September 11, 2014 my dad passed away. While it was an extremely heartfelt loss throughout the ranks of my family, we were able to find relief in my father's ability to finally rest. In one of the last few conversations between my dad and I we spoke of a 110 round boxing match that lasted 7 hours long. This was the legacy he wanted to leave me with as I was able to witness the every day fight he put up for his family, and the things he loved. August 28th, 2015 was the last time my dad and I ever exchanged words with each other in person. I am now the only male in my house and my responsibility to my family has become larger, Sometimes its difficult, but the lessons my dad left me with provide me the strength and courage to keep my head up and succeed in times of adversity.
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