I grew up watching the big names: Wolf Blitzer, Lester Holt, Anderson Cooper. “How many people are watching this,” I wondered. “How many people around the world are sitting on their couch, remote in hand, scrolling until they find this very channel. How many eyes are witnessing the same anchor saying the same words — maybe with a few second lag — but nonetheless watching history and the story of humanity unfold?”
I’m an ’08 baby and with my limited time and experience on Earth as a sixteen year old, the conclusion I reached to that question has seemingly changed and advanced as the years progressed. At first, it seemed all of America and — gosh, maybe the whole world, I innocently thought — tuned in to CNN to watch Prime Time or The Situation Room. But as I grew and I learned, I was exposed to so many concepts I still try to grasp. The top three are what led me to my passion as a student journalist — so bear with me as I delineate.
The first concept which shaped my understanding was the complexities within American media relating to political affiliation and the lobbying industry which practically write the words that scroll past in rapid motions on the teleprompters in front of our beloved, trusted news anchors. I learned that perhaps CNN isn’t at all the only news source — and nor is FOX. That different people get different news which shape their very perspective on the world around them. It’s fascinating, really, how the same world can be perceived in a multitude of ways simply by the sound-waves that dance into our ears and the anchors — pen-in-hand — telling us indirectly how to feel about election results. This is the first valuable lesson I learned about journalism in my earlier years: the power to influence, for better or worse, and the importance of honest reporting to unite, to connect, and to disarm hate.
Well, America is divided by its understanding— which is informed by its media sources. So there must be a way to allow people to see one another, and not judge them by the channels they tune in to. But what about the rest of the world? What about the other news sources or those who don’t even have access to internet, how do they get their news? And with that, I realized that the value of journalism isn’t reaching every corner of the world.
My last thought was how journalism really does reach the masses. Aside from its inherent biases and the propaganda model as Noam Chomsky cleverly organized, “There is another problem,” young me thought. “I don’t see people that look like me.” I didn’t see people that looked like me and I still don’t. And being born seven years after the tragedy which took many lives, the atrocities of 9/11, I felt the sting of racial profiling. Not only was I not seeing anchors or reporters that looked like me, I saw reporters painting my faith in a negative light on TV and how, in the real world, that translated to me being called a “terrorist” for the first time in elementary school before I even knew what that meant.
Ultimately, I learned from a young age that America is divided yet united in a bizarre way by its media, I pondered about how journalism could save the world if used correctly, and I asked why I don’t see myself positively reflected in the media. But with that came a beautiful mission, one that I would be able to pursue as a high school journalist.
I became a high school journalist sooner than I had expected to. I skipped sixth grade and am graduating early, as I am on track to graduate as a senior with the class of ’24. I joined NCHS Live!, our school’s journalism program, as a sophomore. I have been one of five anchors for a school of about 4,000 since the beginning of my sophomore year as well as a writer, photographer, interviewer, and social media staff.
I published stories in our print about “The New Norm” which covered the social changes of student behavior following the pandemic as well as a “Shopping with Salsabil” column to help out some NC Panthers dress to impress. I reported at sporting events, interviewed a variety of people for the “Feel Good Friday” segment on the News and have a show-stopping, jaw-dropping segment called “Salsabil Tries It” where I celebrate the diverse talents in our school by trying sports, the arts, and working with staff in a fun, light-hearted manner which brings smiles across every face in every classroom on our 190 acre campus.
I learned the most valuable lessons in these past two years of high school. Not just about editing and recording and interviewing. I learned how to connect with people. How to be a listener. How to appreciate the stories of everyone I came across. Our diverse student body comprises of over 45 nationalities and 50 languages and I had some unique experiences getting to smile, laugh, and communicate with such beautiful people.
I can confidently say I reframed in many people’s minds what it means to be a successful high school journalist. For a lot of people, I was the first time they realized a hijabi Muslim can be an English-speaking, American-born person just like them. I inspired and onboarded other minorities to be a part of this diverse movement. And their success keeps building us up higher.
From my experiences I realize that I want to use my future expertise — hopefully in law and business — to make journalism a unifying industry. One that can sew America’s ripped quilt and torn fabrics of togetherness back together since Betty Ross’ tired fingertips stitched the last seam. One that can allow us to see the “rest of the world” as the “rest of us” and that can allow “me” to see “you” for who you are and vice versa. I want to acknowledge and appreciate our differences but I also want the world to know that we are more alike than we are different. I want to tell the story of humanity, to “contribute my verse,” as Walt Whitman insightfully remarked, by using the art of journalism.
SALSABIL QADDOURA 