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