A career in journalism seems like the antithesis for someone who was known for most of their early life as being the “shy kid” — but here I am.
Talking has never been my strong point. In a room full of people, I’ve always lent myself toward being the person who listens and observes rather than speaking up and sharing.
For as long as I can remember, it’s something I would fault myself on. But I quickly found that putting pen to paper and letting my thoughts, feelings and ideas flow out that way is what felt most natural.
Even if it was a simple elementary school journal prompt to get our tired little brains working in the morning — What’s the weirdest dream you’ve ever had?
Who is your superhero? — I’d write pages upon pages in my lined notebook, much to the other students’ bewilderment. I read higher-level chapter books and prided myself on receiving perfect scores on spelling tests. I craved everything there was to know about reading and writing. I excelled in creating stories and showing my personality through what I could write, not what I could say.
As I grew up, writing became all that I knew and the one thing I felt most confident in.
Where numbers and figures never made sense in my brain (and still don’t), words did. For me, expressing myself wasn’t about singing, acting, dancing or public speaking. It was taking on my first journalism leadership role as the “features section editor” for my middle school yearbook club where I designed silly, colorful pages and learned how to use a DSLR camera. It was getting my first taste of a newsroom and local journalism as a staff writer for my high school’s newspaper.
It was traveling out of the state and country and wanting to share the excitement and importance of experiencing new communities and cultures. It was coming to the understanding that no matter what journalistic medium I chose to pursue, my words had power.
Going to college for journalism was a no brainer. It’s what I knew I could do, but more importantly it’s what I wanted to do. The person who used to fault herself for being quieter than the rest quickly disappeared as I saw firsthand that there are journalists of all kinds in this industry — powerful and straightforward ones, subtle and inquisitive ones — and that despite the differences, we all share one thing in common: we want to inform.
Being a journalist has been the most difficult but rewarding adventure I’ve taken on. Whether you want it to or not, it alters your view of the world. Being comfortable and blissfully ignorant are no longer options. It requires you to have awkward conversations, ask tough questions and see people in their best or most vulnerable states, all things that would seemingly make the “shy kid” scared to death.
But it’s not all doom and gloom. The work I’ve done has helped nurture the inner shy kid who still certainly lives in me and requires a good push every now and again, but has become more wellrounded and self-assured.
The world that journalism has opened up for me is one where I can be the eyes and ears for the people, make confusing concepts easy for my community to understand and just lend a listening ear to someone who might need it. I’ve met interesting people with stories to tell — small business owners and leaders, veterans, grieving parents — and have learned more about local government, property development and the inner workings of a school district than I ever thought I’d know.
So, for any other “shy kids” out there who worry that their voice is quieter than the rest, know that it isn’t. You have a voice and it matters. There are stories to be told that only you can tell. How you get there might look and feel different from the rest, but you’ll find so much of yourself in this journey as you realize this part of you doesn’t define what you can or can’t do.
Anderson is a reporter for the Hays Free Press/News-Dispatch.
She can be reached at brittany@haysfreepress.com if you have questions, comments or story ideas.
