I Am Proud of Journalism Again

Before, when I would tell people that I work in journalism, I would get various versions of the same responses:

“Journalism is a dying industry.”

“All journalists do is lie and report bad news.”

“You will be stuck in a lonely cubicle.”

The list goes on. While in college at the University of Missouri School of Journalism, I started to get disheartened by every berating comment and would avoid saying the j word at all costs. Yet in May, after graduating, I started at Missouri Life as the assistant editor, and every day since, I am reminded that journalism is not a dirty word when it comes to a magazine whose reputation remains unwavering. Now, every time I mention what publication I work for, instead of a scowl, I get a friendly, knowing smile and congratulations. I no longer feel shame when telling people about my career.

Through our loyal subscribers, Missouri Life has proven to me that people still read print media. I was truly beginning to wonder, Do people still value the hard work and detail it takes to make physical media? But now, I can tell that people want something they can touch and hold in their hands, rather than something that disappears with a finger swipe. As a Generation Z, I am accustomed to the constant influx of online content, but there is just something about the experience of holding a tangible magazine that’s unmatched. With the negative whispers in my ear, it seemed like I was the only one who wanted to flip the smooth pages of a magazine and get a brain break from the blue light that always holds my attention—I was wrong.

When coming up with story ideas for upcoming issues, our small but mighty team meets and collaborates on what we think Missouri readers desire. I bring ideas about businesses, history, travel destinations, and people. Do you know what I don’t bring? Ideas harboring hatefulness or untruth. Every story in our magazine aims to support and aid our readership community and is fully fact-checked by at least five different people: the writer, the sources, and three editors. Every day, I truly feel fulfilled when editing and writing about the incredible people and places of our state. Before working at Missouri Life, I thought I would have to give up a part of myself in the name of journalism—I was wrong.

I always arrive at the 1838 cottage in the quiet town of Rocheport, also known as my office, 10 minutes early. I sit at my desk, which is in an open-concept sunlit room with hardwood floors, and peer through the large windows flanking me. I enjoy the peaceful morning and watch the energetic squirrels scurry up the massive oak trees. While sipping my iced coffee and eating breakfast, I wait for our team to arrive. Most days, Deborah appears first and welcomes me with a “good morning.” Then, Amy trickles in and comes to chat with me, with a soft grin and a funny story about her farm. Finally, Danita sneaks in the creaky backdoor and comes to see if I need any help or to update me on plans for the issue. They each intentionally treat staff not just as coworkers but as friends. Before the fates aligned and I was welcomed into this warm environment, I thought I was destined to rot in a lonely cubicle—I was wrong.

Through working at Missouri Life, I’ve realized that print journalism is alive, journalism doesn’t have to be all doom and gloom, and journalism doesn’t have to take place in an isolating work environment. People— including myself—will always have assumptions about what journalism is or has to be. Many people are wrong.

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This article was originally published in the November/December 2024 issue of Missouri Life.