Why I choose writing? Writing choose me and the person directly responsible for this is my Grandma. She was a housekeeper and every evening she would bring home the previous day's newspaper for me. The people she worked for would read it and save it for her to bring home to me. It didn't matter that I was always reading a day old paper. I read every word on every single page.
A few years later after I had graduated from college, my goal was to write for that newspaper. She was so proud when I got an interview for a reporter's job.
Back then there were not any black reporters at that paper.
This is one of those it was just like yesterday moments. I can easily remember sitting in an office writing an article as part of the interview process. A group of young white reporters came to the door smiling and one of them said
"look at that reporter writing a story."
I was so jacked up to hear that and looking forward to working with them.
When they were walking away that same person said loud enough for me to hear
"look at that reporter never getting a story published."
All of the group burst out laughing. That punch in the gut made me want to run out of there and go back home.
I finished writing the article, not really paying attention to what I was writing because at that point all I could think about was how they had laughed at me for trying to do what they did without even knowing if I had the talent.
I lied to my grandma and told her that everything went well. But I was hurting and didn't want her to hurt with me, but a determination was being born I didn't fully grasp it at the time, but everytime I read their newspaper or drove by that building it grew and now here we are.
