The Beginning of My Journalism Career

Well, this is it. Everything I have ever dreamed, hoped, and prayed for, in regards to the start of my career, is finally happening. I have received my first ever photojournalism assignment, and it is going to take me deep into the heart of Africa. I have not been able to come up with a word yet to describe what it is I am feeling. Ecstatic, joyful, thrilling... none of these possess enough power. I need a word to describe the goosebumps that rise up and down my arms and neck, the race in my heart, the wide smile, the confidence, the determination and, yes, the fear. Understand, I do not fear danger or harm to myself, I fear failure. I fear failing the people that I am going there to serve. I fear that I don't have what it takes to convey the magnitude of stories that I will encounter. That is why I have been studying, researching, madly scrutinizing photos from other journalist's travels, trying to determine what captivates an audience and which photos can be simply looked past. At times I find myself stumped and other times I feel utterly enlightened. Sleep still does not come easy to me, but now it's because my thoughts are haunted by "what-if's." This journey I will be embarking on is no simple task, no walk in the park, no "easy street" stroll. Some journalists are "eased" into the field, starting local, building their resumes stateside so that later on they can breach the outside world. Not me. Come to think of it, I don't think I have ever done anything the easy way. The funny thing about all this is that I am a person who desperately lacks patience. For four years I remained in an agitated interim. My nights were filled with dreams of Africa, as were my days. I used to wonder what it was about that land that so captured my heart. I tried to make myself see Africa in a sensible light as so many of my family members seemed to- dangerous, hopeless, and a waste of time. What I found, however, is try that I might, I simply couldn't. Africa is to me as heaven is to the saint: unknown, vastly illusive, but at the same time, thrilling- a place the soul longs to be. I was reading an article by a New York Times journalist about his experience working in Africa. His name escapes my memory, but I distinctly recall him talking about his love/ hate relationship there. He hated the war, the genocides and the evil, but still he went back again and again. He HAD to go back. Why? He talked about asking himself that same question. He went back because he loved the people, the land, the beauty. He both loved and hated Africa. I am deeply inclined to believe that is how I am going to feel by the end of all this- not just after this tour, but after my career has become wholly underway and I have spent a large portion of time there. That is a long ways ahead though, so for now I must focus on the task at hand. How do I capture the sorrows, the turmoil, and more importantly, the triumphs of such a complex continent? I urge you, reader, to offer up your insight. What is it you want to see? What sort of stories and pictures affect you? What tugs at your heart strings reminding you of your humanity? I have always been a firm believer in the power of the written word, and now I am an equally strong believer of the power of a photograph. Both of these mediums- paired with a passionate, creative, willing and determined heart have the undeniable potential of changing the world.