Personal Narrative

I’ve taken Spanish classes since elementary school, so I’m able to follow conversations and speak enough to get by. But I’m certainly not fluent. My reporting partner was able to translate for me, but I wasn’t able to ask follow-up questions at the rate that I would have had the interview been in a language in which I am at a native level. 

 

I struggled with this. Usually, the highlights of my reporting come from my follow-up questions, and although I did have help with translation, I let a lot of ideas fall back because it was difficult to get the point across. I was actually pretty disappointed by this at first. I knew that if I had been more comfortable speaking Spanish, I could have gone a little deeper with my reporting. 

 

But we made it work. I tapped into points of connection beyond verbal communication. I assessed body language and nonverbal cues. I took note of the tasks and actions that the workers were completing. I absorbed my surroundings with all my senses. I listened to the pouring of the aguas frescas and smelled the fresh ingredients being prepared for the tacos. I remembered that the words being said are only a portion of the story. 

 

When we were back at our dorms, my reporting partner translated the interviews into English, and we sat and combed through the stories we had heard throughout the day to format our article. This process, turning quotes into a story, a ritual I run through almost daily, this time, struck a different side of my brain. I was reminded of the flower stall I had seen before we started reporting. My partner and I were going through the same actions as the employees at that booth. We went through our notes and interviews to select the most vibrant parts, ordered what we had into a piece that flowed nicely and finally went through and fine tuned to tie our story up into a beautiful bouquet. 

 

As the granddaughter of Indian immigrants, going beyond what I can convey with words isn’t uncommon for me. I’ve grown up with two different aspects of my identity: my Indian roots and my American surroundings. That dichotomy manifests itself physically in language. I can understand my mother-tongue, Tamil, to know what my grandparents are saying, but I can’t speak more than simple phrases. I can converse in basic Hindi, but I am not fluent. So I’ve gotten used to relying on other tools. I’m used to connecting with people beyond through the limited use of our words. This background has been central to my success in journalism. 

 

When my school experienced a $20 million budget cut, some of the people I talked to got very emotional. I found myself balancing the sensitive side of me with the analytical journalist in me. I was comforting a devastated teacher in front of me while simultaneously making sure to hear their side of the story, and a lot of that was done with reassurance through nods or small smiles. I learned that silent gestures, a comforting presence and the way I make people feel have power. 

 

Recently, I’ve begun to tap more into the power of other forms of journalism, like audio, video and photography. I’ve learned that although written words are powerful in their own right, sometimes, there are better ways to convey someone’s story. 

 

As I look back on my seven years of journalism, I see just how intertwined with my life it’s become. Someone asked me a few months ago about what area of my life has been most impacted by journalism, and after reflecting, I realized that there’s no part of me that hasn’t been changed by my time spent reporting, writing and learning about the stories of those around me. I’ve developed empathy for people with whom I seemingly share no common bonds. I’ve learned about the power of community. I’ve understood that there is always more to a person than what meets the eye. These translate far beyond the newsroom and my interviews. These ideas have become fundamental to my life. 

 

I am planning to begin college in the fall. Although I have not committed to a school yet, I am hoping to major in environmental science while writing for my school newspaper. I am planning to pursue journalism as a career, and I can’t wait to see where this journey takes me next. I am excited to see how I can make an impact. 

 

Authenticity, compassion and perseverance are central to the person I am and the person I strive to be. Whether I’m learning about someone in an unfamiliar language, mentoring the next generation of journalists as a co-adviser of the middle school newspaper or interviewing someone about their emotional decision to leave our school, I care deeply and love wholeheartedly. These traits are the string of marigolds that add the special touch to my work.