I’ve always held great respect for journalism. Growing up in a place where it’s nearly impossible to get accurate information, you learn to treat the truth like a rare mineral — precious, out of reach. Why is the truth so hard to uncover?
I didn’t fully grasp the struggle until I started working at The Cascade. I can’t help myself once something piques my attention and I realize something’s inherently wrong. Why would I?
I remember three?hour commutes, juggling crash-courses in law and economics, endless emails, and hours of transcription. I think of the thousand words I wrote that barely covered two coffees and a bus ride, and I can’t help but reconsider that “why would I?”
Then I think of my co-workers — braving the pouring rain to reach the farmlands, advocating for communities, witnessing horrors and hostility. They see fear, gaslighting, bureaucratic blockages, apathy. Still, they fight for a better world.
When someone’s story gets the validation they were owed, something in me steadies. It’s time to get to work.
Dear reader, I can’t ask you to care. But I hope you remain aware, because systemic corruption doesn’t begin outside the university. It’s right here, if you’re willing to see it.
