爱华网
左起：指导教师吴敏苏教授、陈洁昊、英语演讲协会主席PeterKyle
Journalism and I: A Love Story
My first acquaintance with the love of my life was hardlyromantic. My grandpa was sitting in front of the television tryinghis best to ignore me while I buzzed around him like a bee, tryingto convince him that homework is meaningless. Halfway through mylist of 101 reasons not to do homework, he threw his hands back andsighed: "Oh, jolly. It's like I'm watching two TVs at the sametime!"
My heart stoppedand I was suddenly transfixed by a vision - Isaw myself all dressed up in a fancy suit and pearl necklaces andrecounting on big events of the day. And not just to my stubborngramps, who never pays attention anyways, but to the world. Theaudience wept, they cried, they smiled and cheered at what I had tosay. Millions of people went to sleep knowing they'd hear my voicethe next day.
At that moment, I fell head over heels for journalism. Like allteenage love, it was an affair of the heart untroubled by reason. Iwalked around my block, talking with street vendors, cleaningladies and classmates who ran away from home with my recorder pen.Nights went by with me locked in the toilet and recording andreplaying the monologue of my show. When my mum suggested a moretraditional job like teacher or nurse, I'd laugh and shock her bysaying that I will visit prisons and war zones as a reporter. Itfelt as adventurous as telling them I wanted to be a tattooed heavymetal singer. Everything about the relationship sounded rebelliousand fun.
But as with all torrid affairs, my love for journalism slowlyburnt out like a glorious Roman candle. And like a pair of younglovers we went our separate ways and I had a string of otherlovers. One week, I was the next food critic for the MichelinGuide, another week I was becoming the first Chinese femaledirector to win an Academy Award. My passions never endured and Iwas Elizabeth Taylor, desperate for the safety of marriage yetreluctant to stay in a relationship.
When I enrolled two years ago at the Communication University ofChina, one of the best journalistic schools in the country, througha series of chance events, I was re-introduced to my formerlove.
The rediscovery of journalism wasn't as I expected. But the moreI came to truly know journalism, the more engaged I became. I’vecome to realize that journalism is both a window through which tosee the world and also a funhouse mirror that can distort thetruth. On national TV, I saw tawdry cover-ups and doctored factsreported without skepticism in an effort to create a harmonioussociety. In overseas news outlets, I read ridiculous rumors aboutChina eating dead babies and living in absolute poverty underauthoritarian rule. At times, China was depicted as little morethan Chairman Mao doing Kungfu while riding a rickshaw.
Joseph Pulitzer once said: “Our republic and its press will riseor fall together.”All the disingenuous opinions, so-called factsand active misinformation in the so-called news, both local andforeign, made me fear for the future.
A voice inside me was dying to come out. I wanted to set therecord straight, for people both inside and outside China.Journalism was all I could think about from the minute I woke up.The sheer contrast between what I saw with my own eyes and what Iread kept reminding me to run into the arms of journalism. And so,I was in love once more, but this time guided by the piercing lightof reason.
It’s the same, but it is also difference. My desire to shine anuncompromising light onto all that is crucial to China is no longersimply a heart-felt dream, though that is still true. It is nowalso a responsibility, a vocation, a calling formed in thepurifying crucible of the mind. Though my heart still propels me tomy destiny, it is my head that guides me along the path.
There will undoubtedly be times on my journey that I will wish Ihad chosen a less demanding partner but, no matter what happens, Iknow that together journalism and I will soar to new heights andreport back to the world all that we see and learn.
