Today’s the last official school day of the 2015-2016 year so I’m sporting this “Thank You” tank for my ~90 of my freshman journalism students taking their final exam this morning, which is online and hasn’t crashed the internet, yet (yay!)
It’s been about a month since I’ve swung my leg over my motorcycle, so I’ve been taking a “sabbath rest,” in terms of riding, but I was able to knock out a freelance article – my first in a few months – which fulfilled me with a sense of self that I used to have and was missing. Ever since I started writing – I started riding before I could write! – I used to love writing in my diary about my epic dirt bike adventures breaking wrists and crashing. In high school, I developed my storytelling skills in Yearbook class and started learning about photography. Then in college, I started covering the dirt bike races for FLmx magazine and…the rest is history. Journalism has always been a way for me to connect my passion for storytelling with my love of the dirt biking community. I was reminded of this just the other day when one of my colleagues shared this inspiring Pulitzer.org story, “My family was my journalism school.”
Journalism rescued me from my fear of living small and disconnected, gave me a way to feel useful, and I came to understand how my family prepared me for the work.