When I was still in school, journalism in my mind was just writing good articles, on the front page; going to many places, meeting many people, telling stories with words. I imagined a journalist as a “storyteller of the times”, holding a notebook in one hand, a camera on the shoulder, eyes shining with passion and ideals. Everything about journalism in me sparkled like a beautiful dream.
Then when I entered the profession, starting with short news reports, incomplete interviews, and awkward work in the crowd, I realized that journalism is not as simple as people think. It is a combination of passion and reason, of emotion and principle, of relentless commitment and alertness in every word. It is a profession that not only requires good writing skills, but also requires listening, observing, feeling, asking questions at the right time and keeping silent when necessary.
Reporter of Dak Lak Newspaper during a work trip in a flooded area in Quang Dien commune (Krong Ana district). |
I used to think that just knowing how to write was enough. But it turns out that to write correctly and deeply, I had to learn to listen carefully, travel a lot, and see with my heart, not just my eyes. I used to be happy when my articles were published in newspapers. However, later on, I realized that there was a greater joy, which was when my articles helped change something in a more positive direction, even if it was very small.
Journalism has taught me to grow through the trips and the people I have the chance to meet. Each trip is not only a mission but also a journey of discovery – discovering people, places, and myself. From long business trips in remote areas, to “hot” work at the scene of natural disasters, epidemics or important political and social events, we – journalists – understand and sympathize with what we witness and are more aware of the social responsibility of writers.
I once followed a working group to Cu Pui commune (Krong Bong district). There, I met barefoot M'nong children crossing streams to go to school, and saw people steadfastly sticking to their fields and protecting the forests. These stories seemed small, but they made me restless every night as I typed each line. I started writing not just to "publish in the newspaper", but to spread, to speak up, to contribute a small part to changing their lives.
I will always remember another time I was working in Krong village (Dur Kmal commune, Krong Ana district). At that time, heavy rain flooded the road to the village, vehicles could not enter, my colleagues and I had to walk for nearly an hour. We brought along cameras, video cameras, recorders, raincoats and some necessities for the people. In that cold, I received a handshake from an old man: "Thank you for not abandoning the village in difficult times". At that time, I realized that journalism is not only about recording information but also about accompanying and sharing.
As a reporter, I get to live many different lives. Sometimes I am the one who shares with the victims after a landslide; sometimes I am the one who accompanies a young man to start a career in the mountains and forests; sometimes I am the one who silently attends the funeral of a soldier who sacrificed his life for his noble duty.
Thanks to journalism, with its unplanned trips, it has forged people who are bold, sharp and full of ideals. Each trip is a journey of learning, a time to open the heart.
Journalism, after all, is not just a job but a way of life. A way of life with many emotions, in many different situations. A way of life that, despite the hardships and sometimes the fatigue, I still cannot give up. Because I know that somewhere out there, there are still many stories that need to be told truthfully, responsibly and humanely.
Source: https://baodaklak.vn/xa-hoi/202506/nghe-cua-nhung-chuyen-di-c94030b/
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