I woke up this morning feeling somewhat disillusioned by where I was and what was happening around me. It was as if I had been living in an enclosed shelter for years, and finally my eyes opened up to all that I was blind to. It hurt. Suddenly I saw the world differently, with different eyes. It was as if I had been stowed away for centuries – been protected from the evils of this world.
I don’t know what happened for the blinds to fall off...oh, I remember…I was hurting.
My perfect world was disintegrating into a negative downward spiral that just seemed to pull me under.
And this is where I found myself this morning. Down. Down, depressed, and disillusioned. I could not understand how I had missed this all along. It was everywhere and more importantly, it was overwhelming.
My kids! My poor unborn kids. What kind of a world would I bring them into?
How did I bring a child into a society where men stopped listening to women and rather hit them or shot them dead because they would not listen? How on earth, with all of this going on, did I instill a sense of “as the head of a household you have to protect your family” to my son.
In what kind of consciousness did I bring a child into a world where young mothers buried their newborn babies alive, because they were not given an option to choose by the very country in which they lived? How on earth did I instill a sense of responsibility, the choice to choose between right and wrong, to my young daughter?
How did I allow my child, my unborn child, to grow up in a world where, mistrust, cheating, stealing, killing, manipulating, and deceit, was the order of the day.
I felt pretty down. I had a feeling that my life as I had known it was no more.
It dawned on me then that the bubble that I had lived in for years had popped. Don’t get me wrong. I was always aware of the wrongs that went on around me in this world of ours.
However, somehow, I guess in an effort to deal with it, I found a way to justify these wrongs. I analysed the situation to an understanding that the person must have been in some state of mind to have done what they were doing. And that inherently, there was good in everyone. They deeds were merely driven by circumstances or uncontrollable situations. This was what I believed.
Lately, this believe was waning. For some reason, lately, I came to realise that there are really, genuinely, truly bad people out there. There are people out there who really want to hurt you. People whom just really want to steal from you. There are people who genuinely are trying to make your life as miserable as possible. There are people who cannot stand to see you happy. There are people who even want you to be dead. There are people who will do anything to send you off in a wrong direction – a less prosperous and unhappy direction.
This was my shocking realisation. I was losing my faith in good.
I came to the conclusion that if I did not change my outlook on life and people, that I would never stop crying and hurting, or expose myself and make myself vulnerable to the absolutely horrible things that are happening out there.
My kids, my unborn kids, I realised then, where manifestations of me, living through their eyes. Who would want to hurt their kids or would want their kids to be hurt? Although even that, these days, were not a far off possibility! Well I speak for myself, I will not hurt my children…I will not hurt me.
What was happening to me during the last few days was nothing short of my life telling me to put on my amour and protect myself. It was time to change from being ignorant to negativity, to protective mode. It made sense to me. I was under attack! My protective shield had fallen away. People, whom I had thought to be my friends, appeared as wolf in sheep skin. That was scary! Relationship that I had built over years seemed to be clouded by lies and manipulation. That hurt! I found myself in the middle of the evil pool!
Swimming in fear, insecurity, doubt, confusion and suddenly isolation.
Alas, I had one weapon! A weapon that was so strong that it would always protect me and guide me away from harm! That weapon was called ignorant faith. I believed! Whether I wanted to or not. I believed. I believed that my faith in life and people would be restored. I believed that I will remain protected from evil and negativity!
And now, with my amour on, I was ready! I was ready to fight for my life, and that of my unborn children! I was ready to do what I had to do, in order to do what I wanted to do! I was ready to fight for my life, in a world with possibilities, surrounded by good people, and filled with opportunities.
END
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
WHICH RELIGIOUS PATH IS RIGHT FOR YOU?
On a Sunday morning, it is common practice for me to sit and reflect on the week that has passed and then to contemplate the week ahead. However, sometimes, especially lately, I have been bombarding myself with so many other thoughts – like am I going to be happy in ten years, how many kids am I willing to have(family planning gives you the choice to decide), and on this particular Sunday, what religion are my kids going to follow?
I guess the thoughts were perpetuated by the fact that I was at the time flipping through a lot channels, and particularly the religious ones. I decided to spend most of my day going through these channels and listening to the messages by the very zealous preachers.
In doing so, I made a few observations. All the preachers had different methods of preaching, in that they had different ways of interpreting the bible. In addition to that, I was also aware of the notion that all preachers wanted people to come to their church.
Perhaps I should go back in time. I grew up in a relatively religious environment. By relative I mean, we were baptised, we went for confirmation, we went to church for a year, after the confirmation (or perhaps I should speak for myself – less then a year), we prayed before every meal, and generally involved God in all we did or endeavoured to do.
However, as I was growing, and being one to question everything, I could not help but to feel confused at the very idea that there were so many different churches, with so many different names! To add to that, there were those who dressed differently, (like a uniform that indicated that they belonged to a certain church), and also those who prayed differently, and to a different person or different God or Gods! I was confused.
Of course I asked, and was kindly told: You are Lutheran and you can go to any Lutheran church in the world". I guessed I would be more accepted there! However, what message would I get if I for instance, walked into a Catholic church?
Nobody really told me that I could never go to one, but since the beginning of time, I got the impression that it was probably not a good idea. It was only later that I found out that Catholics prayed through the Mother Mary to Jesus, while the Lutherans prayed through Jesus to God. I think. Bottom line - I was told that one of them was less respectful than the other, or was the right way to pray or something like that. I don't really know the details.
What I do know is that growing up, religion confused me. Don't get me wrong, I was not confused about the idea/knowledge/believe of God, Jesus, and Mary, but rather, the diversity in which they were portrayed or worshipped! For me, being a person with a very logical disposition, it boiled down to this: One God, one belief, one people, one church…even if they were built in different locations, or areas of the country. This was simply for purposes of easy access.
But no - there were many, at many corners, with many different believes and ideologies. For instance, the church of a lady that I know, who went to one of the churches that wore a uniform, believed that you had to give away a tenth of your salary to the church. In this regard, besides the fact that she had more than three kids, she was really struggling to make ends meets. But she was happy because in her church she was told: "Fear not, because the Lord will provide."
I wondered then how the section of "God only helps those who help themselves" paired in with that. In an even more extreme case, also a lady that I know, from a church that did not wear a uniform, but the people shared the same believe (I do not know what that is, but apparently it differentiated their church from the others), quit her job all together to serve the Lord and the church, besides the fact that she had bills, kids and other things that needed her to have a job.
On another occasion, I was visiting a friend in hospital when a bunch of church volunteers literary compelled my friend to "give his life to the Lord" or "burn in the eternal fire of hell"!
I was terrified! Not because I was probably going to be one of the people who would burn in the "fire of eternal hell", but of the people who went around spreading the word of God, but instead instilled so much fear in the hearts of others. Who wants to burn in a fire of eternal hell!
Aaaahhh, then there were "the people from the Jehovah's Witness"! You know the ones that you always hide away from when you see them coming around the corner. Truth be told, I never did. I mean, if these people were so kind enough to come to my house, to tell me about the Lord, why would I run from them!
Again I was kindly reminded that I was Lutheran and that the "people from the Jehovah's Witness"…well, they claimed that this (earth) was paradise and that God would come down to claim his place on earth. In addition, they claimed that if you lived a righteous life, you would live eternally, and that those who died, were sinners. I guess then thus far, since the beginning to time, we are all sinners because we all have to go sometime!
In short, it was wrong to listen to them.
I could go on and on about the diverse and different ideas and faces of God, which were portrayed to me by many that I came to meet in my life!
In a plight to aid my dillema, I then, from a young age decided that I was not ever going to go to church. This was to avoid and deal with all the confusion I had of why there were millions of different types of churches instead of one for everyone.
Secondly I decided to read the bible myself, and interpret it in anyway that suited my life and lifestyle. I figured that's what everyone else is doing anyhow. Also since the bible is really a very positive book and taught the principle of positive living I found it to be a really great motivationally uplifting tool to have. You know, obey your mother and your father, don't steal, don't kill - the Ten Commandments. I loved reading it, and applying it to my life as it made sense to me.
As for the Almighty himself! Just like the millions of people out there who had millions of churches to go to because they shared millions of different ideas and views about the higher power, I had my own special relationship with Him.
"Remember the part in the bible that says "we were all created in the image of God"? Well, that is how I applied my God to myself. That he lived in all of us, and that he was like a Father to us. A protector, a giver, a caretaker! Therefore, when I felt ill, I simply called on my Father and asked him to make me feel better – like my own father would do! Or when I was facing a financial difficulty, I would call on my Father to help me find a way to get money – note, not to give me money, to help me find a way to make or get money. True to his word, so it would be. Money would come. The same applied to all other areas of my life! If I wanted something, I would call on my Father to provide it.
Did that sound a little selfish? More like ask, ask, ask, and give nothing in return? Yes it did, and no, I do not feel guilty about it! Why? Because I deserve everything that is good and right in my life and I should not feel bad about it! That is what my Father would have wanted.
How do I deal with the issue of giving a tenth of what you earn to the church? My theory to that is, why give a tenth of what you earn, when you can give all of what you can! The operative words being what you can! It is called generosity. It is called sharing. It is called empathy and sympathy! It is called loving your neighbour, your brother, your friend, your partner! It works for me. I give of myself and what I can.
However the most important of everything that I had just mention, and I feared, majority of the devout church goers did not have – was FAITH! Oh, it is so important it makes me teary-eyed just thinking about it! I mean, you could go to church day in and out, give away all the money in the world, quit your job, preach from house to house, but if you have not faith, it is all worth nothing!
Faith means believing in something that you cannot see, and there is not guarantee that it is really there! I had loads of that! I loved life, the process, the believe, and my Father so much, that I took it for granted that whatever I asked for would be granted to me without question! And so it was! It worked for me!
I had faith my Father was with my every waking second of my life, guiding me, looking out for me, saving me, loving me, taking care of me, planning
my life in such a way, that I could live it without fear of what tomorrow would bring – just like my father would do!
As for my unborn children and what religion they could follow? Again, I would have to revert that back to my Father, who gave each and every human being the greatest gift of all – FREE WILL.
I guess the thoughts were perpetuated by the fact that I was at the time flipping through a lot channels, and particularly the religious ones. I decided to spend most of my day going through these channels and listening to the messages by the very zealous preachers.
In doing so, I made a few observations. All the preachers had different methods of preaching, in that they had different ways of interpreting the bible. In addition to that, I was also aware of the notion that all preachers wanted people to come to their church.
Perhaps I should go back in time. I grew up in a relatively religious environment. By relative I mean, we were baptised, we went for confirmation, we went to church for a year, after the confirmation (or perhaps I should speak for myself – less then a year), we prayed before every meal, and generally involved God in all we did or endeavoured to do.
However, as I was growing, and being one to question everything, I could not help but to feel confused at the very idea that there were so many different churches, with so many different names! To add to that, there were those who dressed differently, (like a uniform that indicated that they belonged to a certain church), and also those who prayed differently, and to a different person or different God or Gods! I was confused.
Of course I asked, and was kindly told: You are Lutheran and you can go to any Lutheran church in the world". I guessed I would be more accepted there! However, what message would I get if I for instance, walked into a Catholic church?
Nobody really told me that I could never go to one, but since the beginning of time, I got the impression that it was probably not a good idea. It was only later that I found out that Catholics prayed through the Mother Mary to Jesus, while the Lutherans prayed through Jesus to God. I think. Bottom line - I was told that one of them was less respectful than the other, or was the right way to pray or something like that. I don't really know the details.
What I do know is that growing up, religion confused me. Don't get me wrong, I was not confused about the idea/knowledge/believe of God, Jesus, and Mary, but rather, the diversity in which they were portrayed or worshipped! For me, being a person with a very logical disposition, it boiled down to this: One God, one belief, one people, one church…even if they were built in different locations, or areas of the country. This was simply for purposes of easy access.
But no - there were many, at many corners, with many different believes and ideologies. For instance, the church of a lady that I know, who went to one of the churches that wore a uniform, believed that you had to give away a tenth of your salary to the church. In this regard, besides the fact that she had more than three kids, she was really struggling to make ends meets. But she was happy because in her church she was told: "Fear not, because the Lord will provide."
I wondered then how the section of "God only helps those who help themselves" paired in with that. In an even more extreme case, also a lady that I know, from a church that did not wear a uniform, but the people shared the same believe (I do not know what that is, but apparently it differentiated their church from the others), quit her job all together to serve the Lord and the church, besides the fact that she had bills, kids and other things that needed her to have a job.
On another occasion, I was visiting a friend in hospital when a bunch of church volunteers literary compelled my friend to "give his life to the Lord" or "burn in the eternal fire of hell"!
I was terrified! Not because I was probably going to be one of the people who would burn in the "fire of eternal hell", but of the people who went around spreading the word of God, but instead instilled so much fear in the hearts of others. Who wants to burn in a fire of eternal hell!
Aaaahhh, then there were "the people from the Jehovah's Witness"! You know the ones that you always hide away from when you see them coming around the corner. Truth be told, I never did. I mean, if these people were so kind enough to come to my house, to tell me about the Lord, why would I run from them!
Again I was kindly reminded that I was Lutheran and that the "people from the Jehovah's Witness"…well, they claimed that this (earth) was paradise and that God would come down to claim his place on earth. In addition, they claimed that if you lived a righteous life, you would live eternally, and that those who died, were sinners. I guess then thus far, since the beginning to time, we are all sinners because we all have to go sometime!
In short, it was wrong to listen to them.
I could go on and on about the diverse and different ideas and faces of God, which were portrayed to me by many that I came to meet in my life!
In a plight to aid my dillema, I then, from a young age decided that I was not ever going to go to church. This was to avoid and deal with all the confusion I had of why there were millions of different types of churches instead of one for everyone.
Secondly I decided to read the bible myself, and interpret it in anyway that suited my life and lifestyle. I figured that's what everyone else is doing anyhow. Also since the bible is really a very positive book and taught the principle of positive living I found it to be a really great motivationally uplifting tool to have. You know, obey your mother and your father, don't steal, don't kill - the Ten Commandments. I loved reading it, and applying it to my life as it made sense to me.
As for the Almighty himself! Just like the millions of people out there who had millions of churches to go to because they shared millions of different ideas and views about the higher power, I had my own special relationship with Him.
"Remember the part in the bible that says "we were all created in the image of God"? Well, that is how I applied my God to myself. That he lived in all of us, and that he was like a Father to us. A protector, a giver, a caretaker! Therefore, when I felt ill, I simply called on my Father and asked him to make me feel better – like my own father would do! Or when I was facing a financial difficulty, I would call on my Father to help me find a way to get money – note, not to give me money, to help me find a way to make or get money. True to his word, so it would be. Money would come. The same applied to all other areas of my life! If I wanted something, I would call on my Father to provide it.
Did that sound a little selfish? More like ask, ask, ask, and give nothing in return? Yes it did, and no, I do not feel guilty about it! Why? Because I deserve everything that is good and right in my life and I should not feel bad about it! That is what my Father would have wanted.
How do I deal with the issue of giving a tenth of what you earn to the church? My theory to that is, why give a tenth of what you earn, when you can give all of what you can! The operative words being what you can! It is called generosity. It is called sharing. It is called empathy and sympathy! It is called loving your neighbour, your brother, your friend, your partner! It works for me. I give of myself and what I can.
However the most important of everything that I had just mention, and I feared, majority of the devout church goers did not have – was FAITH! Oh, it is so important it makes me teary-eyed just thinking about it! I mean, you could go to church day in and out, give away all the money in the world, quit your job, preach from house to house, but if you have not faith, it is all worth nothing!
Faith means believing in something that you cannot see, and there is not guarantee that it is really there! I had loads of that! I loved life, the process, the believe, and my Father so much, that I took it for granted that whatever I asked for would be granted to me without question! And so it was! It worked for me!
I had faith my Father was with my every waking second of my life, guiding me, looking out for me, saving me, loving me, taking care of me, planning
my life in such a way, that I could live it without fear of what tomorrow would bring – just like my father would do!
As for my unborn children and what religion they could follow? Again, I would have to revert that back to my Father, who gave each and every human being the greatest gift of all – FREE WILL.
Friday, July 11, 2008
DUAL TELEVISION: HOME WRECKER
When my fiancé announced that we were going to have to get DSTV’s PVR installed into our home “to allow us both to watch the programmes that we loved”, I absolutely had to put my foot down.
Now, in a young union like ours, it was not the easiest thing to do because as we all know, men always have to prove that they are the men – decision making and all. However, this was one thing, and probably the only thing, that I was not going to allow to take root!
For those who do not know, let me first explain what PVR viewing entails. The add on the Multichoice website reads like this:
“The PVR will revolutionise the television experience and the way you watch television. The DStv PVR Decoder is a Personal Video Recorder and decoder in one. With your DStv PVR decoder you will be able to take control of your television. Some of the exciting features of the DStv PVR decoder that you can look forward to include: Record 80 hours of TV Programming, Pause live TV, Watch two channels and record a third channel at the same time, Rewind programming, Fast forward and slo-mo programming you have recorded”
So basically, including all the other features mentioned above, the PVR decoder allows you to view two separate channels on two separate TV's simultaneously, while you can record a third channel and watch it later. That means, you in one room watching Desperate Housewives, while your boyfriend, fiancé or husband is in the other room watching soccer, rugby, wrestling or formula one!
In practice this sound really great! Nobody really ever has to miss their favourite programme. However, after much thought, I discovered that, if I gave into this request, we would hardly ever see each other! Let me explain.
Due to an increasingly competitive economy and high standard of living, we are forced to spend longer hours working and fewer hours with each other. On average, daily we spend about four hours with each other during the week, and about six during some weekends. During the four hours that we spend over the week, thirty minutes is spend on trivial chats and eating in front of the television, while the three and a half remaining hours are spend watching television!
Now, this can still work for me because at least, even if we don’t really talk to each other, due to the extent and intensity of involvement required to follow a certain programme, we are in each other’s company. In addition, we are forced to negotiate who watches what, when and on which date and why?
Correct me if I am wrong but this is preciously what a couple about to be wedded should focus their energy on! Finding a common ground, making decisions that are beneficial as well as pleasant for both of them, working together! I believe its called compromise!
What does the PRV decoder do? It literality separates you from each other, leaving you little room to communicate and build on a healthy sustainable relationship, as well as discuss important issues that affect your togetherness and future together.
Some, like my fiancé, will argue and say, “but the PVR has a recording function and anything we can’t watch now, we can record and watch it later”. Right! I would like to see him recording, thereby missing, a game between Barcelona and Liverpool so that I can watch American Idols! Not in this lifetime I have learned!
I was not going to let this go without an argument. So I went a step further! Enter Marshall McLuhan! A Canadian philosopher who long time ago, sometime in the 1950’s, already predicted that the likes of television would be “destructive” to society at large.
McLuhan's theory was that a medium affects the society in which it plays a role not by the content delivered over the medium, but by the characteristics of the medium itself! In other words, his argument was that it did not really matter if television broadcasts screened children's shows or violent programming all day, the effect of television on society would be identical. “Destructive”.
Think of the television in your house? Usually it tends to occupy the center of the room or somewhere in the room at an elevated level. This then requires a family of any household to gather around the television for hours on end, not communicating and therefore leading to the disintegration of the family. He coined it “the medium is the message”.
The message is that besides watching television it is important for families, couples, and even children to find other activities that can contribute to the stimulation of their brains – like reading a book, or in my case, to the building of a healthy relationship - like talking about wedding plans!
I rest my case.
Now, in a young union like ours, it was not the easiest thing to do because as we all know, men always have to prove that they are the men – decision making and all. However, this was one thing, and probably the only thing, that I was not going to allow to take root!
For those who do not know, let me first explain what PVR viewing entails. The add on the Multichoice website reads like this:
“The PVR will revolutionise the television experience and the way you watch television. The DStv PVR Decoder is a Personal Video Recorder and decoder in one. With your DStv PVR decoder you will be able to take control of your television. Some of the exciting features of the DStv PVR decoder that you can look forward to include: Record 80 hours of TV Programming, Pause live TV, Watch two channels and record a third channel at the same time, Rewind programming, Fast forward and slo-mo programming you have recorded”
So basically, including all the other features mentioned above, the PVR decoder allows you to view two separate channels on two separate TV's simultaneously, while you can record a third channel and watch it later. That means, you in one room watching Desperate Housewives, while your boyfriend, fiancé or husband is in the other room watching soccer, rugby, wrestling or formula one!
In practice this sound really great! Nobody really ever has to miss their favourite programme. However, after much thought, I discovered that, if I gave into this request, we would hardly ever see each other! Let me explain.
Due to an increasingly competitive economy and high standard of living, we are forced to spend longer hours working and fewer hours with each other. On average, daily we spend about four hours with each other during the week, and about six during some weekends. During the four hours that we spend over the week, thirty minutes is spend on trivial chats and eating in front of the television, while the three and a half remaining hours are spend watching television!
Now, this can still work for me because at least, even if we don’t really talk to each other, due to the extent and intensity of involvement required to follow a certain programme, we are in each other’s company. In addition, we are forced to negotiate who watches what, when and on which date and why?
Correct me if I am wrong but this is preciously what a couple about to be wedded should focus their energy on! Finding a common ground, making decisions that are beneficial as well as pleasant for both of them, working together! I believe its called compromise!
What does the PRV decoder do? It literality separates you from each other, leaving you little room to communicate and build on a healthy sustainable relationship, as well as discuss important issues that affect your togetherness and future together.
Some, like my fiancé, will argue and say, “but the PVR has a recording function and anything we can’t watch now, we can record and watch it later”. Right! I would like to see him recording, thereby missing, a game between Barcelona and Liverpool so that I can watch American Idols! Not in this lifetime I have learned!
I was not going to let this go without an argument. So I went a step further! Enter Marshall McLuhan! A Canadian philosopher who long time ago, sometime in the 1950’s, already predicted that the likes of television would be “destructive” to society at large.
McLuhan's theory was that a medium affects the society in which it plays a role not by the content delivered over the medium, but by the characteristics of the medium itself! In other words, his argument was that it did not really matter if television broadcasts screened children's shows or violent programming all day, the effect of television on society would be identical. “Destructive”.
Think of the television in your house? Usually it tends to occupy the center of the room or somewhere in the room at an elevated level. This then requires a family of any household to gather around the television for hours on end, not communicating and therefore leading to the disintegration of the family. He coined it “the medium is the message”.
The message is that besides watching television it is important for families, couples, and even children to find other activities that can contribute to the stimulation of their brains – like reading a book, or in my case, to the building of a healthy relationship - like talking about wedding plans!
I rest my case.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
JOURNALISTS ARE BORN
Maria was one of the cleverest girls I ever got the opportunity to meet during my journalism study course in South Africa, Pretoria. She, up until this point in my life, is the only women I ever met who got a distinction in almost every test we wrote during the four year period of our studies.
And while, like most journalists, we (some of my classmates and I), went out for drinks, club hopping and partying until the wee hours of the morning, Maria, spend hours in front of her desk studying.
Ironically, from a class of fourty students in the first year, we were only seven that graduated with a degree in Journalism at the end of the course. Maria was not one of us.
This got me wondering? Given the amount of time Maria put into her studies, was she not supposed to be in the best position to snatch a job at the most prestigious media house amongst us?
In fact, during our experimental or practical year, the fourth year of the degree course, Maria could not secure a job.
This confirmed everything that I had always believed about journalism and being a journalist. That they were born.
I, from a very young age knew that I could never do anything other than writing. At the age of six I, stuck with a pen in my head and another between my fingers to represent a cigarette, already had a toy type writer which I would use to construct the most amazing stories that happened around my home. Be that whether the cat got babies or my grandmother brought home meshed potatoes. It was a story to me! The point is,
I could not recall at which point I started writing and the desire to ever stop was never there.
By the time I reached high school, I could instantly correct a sentence because it was grammatically wrong, or a word that was wrongly spelled jumped up at me like a sore thumb!
Oh the formulation of a string of words that turned into a brilliant sentence that made sense! That feeling was total elation! It could be compared to walking up a very steep mountain only to get to the top and be met by a breath taking view of a sunset!
Maria, although she was an outstanding student, did not succeed as a journalist because she did not have the audacity of a bull. Only a true journalist could walk up a head of state and pose questions to them which might offend them. Maria did not have the incurable curiousity or the never ending inquisitiveness of a child. Only a true journalist could ask questions until they get to the bottom of a problem.
Neither did Maria have the ability to talk about a million different subjects in the same night on a perpetual basis! Only a true journalist is so mentally stimulated that their minds work overtime! Never a dull moment – or thought – for that matter!
Maria was also very much religious, which unfortunately, placed her in a position to make judgements, not necessarily because they were wrong, but because they were influenced by a group of people with strong believes!
That was one thing a true journalist could never ever be! Judgemental! Regardless of whatever feelings a journalist had about a certain topic, a true journalists, has the uncanny ability to separate themselves from all issues. Yes, even something close to their hearts for the sake of a fair and balanced story.
I came to the conclusion that everything that I possessed as a person is what made me a journalist, and not that I had a degree in journalism. In fact, if anything, most of what I had learned in the four years of my studies had nothing to do with what I learned in class. I was, like all true journalists, taught by the school of life. Tolerance, understanding, fearlessness, insight, patience, determination, perseverance and honesty - these were the makings of true journalists. And these were not subjects that could be taught behind a desk.
Please don’t get me wrong. Education is a very important part of our lives. As much as I did not need the degree in journalism to make me journalists, I did need the expert advice on the subject to guide, shape and mould me into a well rounded reporter! That means one that would follow an ethical code of reporting. That means one that would ask the 5 W’s and an H to construct a story.
Education in journalism taught me that the correct structure of a sentence had to have a heading, a body and a conclusion. So I do not want to dismiss the importance of education. What I am simply saying is that I am convinced that the makings of a true journalist, does not depend on education. I guess I have to leave it up to you to decide if a journalist is born to be journalists, or taught to be a journalist?
I beg to differ on the latter.
END
And while, like most journalists, we (some of my classmates and I), went out for drinks, club hopping and partying until the wee hours of the morning, Maria, spend hours in front of her desk studying.
Ironically, from a class of fourty students in the first year, we were only seven that graduated with a degree in Journalism at the end of the course. Maria was not one of us.
This got me wondering? Given the amount of time Maria put into her studies, was she not supposed to be in the best position to snatch a job at the most prestigious media house amongst us?
In fact, during our experimental or practical year, the fourth year of the degree course, Maria could not secure a job.
This confirmed everything that I had always believed about journalism and being a journalist. That they were born.
I, from a very young age knew that I could never do anything other than writing. At the age of six I, stuck with a pen in my head and another between my fingers to represent a cigarette, already had a toy type writer which I would use to construct the most amazing stories that happened around my home. Be that whether the cat got babies or my grandmother brought home meshed potatoes. It was a story to me! The point is,
I could not recall at which point I started writing and the desire to ever stop was never there.
By the time I reached high school, I could instantly correct a sentence because it was grammatically wrong, or a word that was wrongly spelled jumped up at me like a sore thumb!
Oh the formulation of a string of words that turned into a brilliant sentence that made sense! That feeling was total elation! It could be compared to walking up a very steep mountain only to get to the top and be met by a breath taking view of a sunset!
Maria, although she was an outstanding student, did not succeed as a journalist because she did not have the audacity of a bull. Only a true journalist could walk up a head of state and pose questions to them which might offend them. Maria did not have the incurable curiousity or the never ending inquisitiveness of a child. Only a true journalist could ask questions until they get to the bottom of a problem.
Neither did Maria have the ability to talk about a million different subjects in the same night on a perpetual basis! Only a true journalist is so mentally stimulated that their minds work overtime! Never a dull moment – or thought – for that matter!
Maria was also very much religious, which unfortunately, placed her in a position to make judgements, not necessarily because they were wrong, but because they were influenced by a group of people with strong believes!
That was one thing a true journalist could never ever be! Judgemental! Regardless of whatever feelings a journalist had about a certain topic, a true journalists, has the uncanny ability to separate themselves from all issues. Yes, even something close to their hearts for the sake of a fair and balanced story.
I came to the conclusion that everything that I possessed as a person is what made me a journalist, and not that I had a degree in journalism. In fact, if anything, most of what I had learned in the four years of my studies had nothing to do with what I learned in class. I was, like all true journalists, taught by the school of life. Tolerance, understanding, fearlessness, insight, patience, determination, perseverance and honesty - these were the makings of true journalists. And these were not subjects that could be taught behind a desk.
Please don’t get me wrong. Education is a very important part of our lives. As much as I did not need the degree in journalism to make me journalists, I did need the expert advice on the subject to guide, shape and mould me into a well rounded reporter! That means one that would follow an ethical code of reporting. That means one that would ask the 5 W’s and an H to construct a story.
Education in journalism taught me that the correct structure of a sentence had to have a heading, a body and a conclusion. So I do not want to dismiss the importance of education. What I am simply saying is that I am convinced that the makings of a true journalist, does not depend on education. I guess I have to leave it up to you to decide if a journalist is born to be journalists, or taught to be a journalist?
I beg to differ on the latter.
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