Dear Journalism,
I still remember the first time I picked you up. Back then, it was simple. You felt like a gateway to something bigger. A way of understanding the world, a way of connecting with people. A ticket to unravelling stories that mattered. I was young, naïve maybe, but you had me hooked. Your allure wasn’t in the glamour, the by-lines, or the headlines, but in the ability to bring truth into the light. Gone were the days of watching Louis Theroux dive deeper into celebrities’ personal lives or dreaming I was Peter Parker for the Daily Bugle. You made me accept who I am. I am a journalist from my soul and body to Nirvana and back, but more importantly, I am who I say I am. I am Lachlan. Thank you for reminding me in times of chaos and when I feel lost.
Embed from Getty ImagesYou see, you were never just a pen and paper to me, you were always so much more. I loved the way you let me explore every nuance of a game, every layer of a scandal, every hidden narrative. You weren’t just the facts. You were context. You were heart. You taught me how to get close to the action, how to listen, really listen, and how to tell stories that lingered long after the ink dried. I loved the way you are multi-faceted and are one of the reasons I know so much about life. You gifted me with life experiences I’ll never forget. You demanded hustle and I gave you, my heart.
Embed from Getty ImagesEven when family or friends didn’t fully support my work, you had me committed. I didn’t listen to people who said they didn’t understand why I wanted to be a journalist or at my best, a writer. It didn’t matter if my style didn’t resonate with my family. Did Shakespeare truly ever listen to his critics? Did Dickens give up after David Copperfield? I’ve always been inspired by the greats. Not just the greats in writing but in life. Kobe Bryant, Thierry Henry, Keanu Reeves, Edgar Allen Poe. As I am with Friedrich Nietzsche, William Shakespeare, Vincent Van Gogh, Salvador Dali. You get the point. I’m nowhere near being the greatest version of myself but the truth is; I can’t downplay your significance because my soul is forged by your efforts. I’m in the pursuit of greatness and I won’t ever stop.
Embed from Getty ImagesBut over time, I noticed you changing. The pursuit of clicks overshadowed the pursuit of truth. Deadlines replaced depth, and spin became the subtle currency of the day. Somehow, in the race to stay ahead, we lost what made you sacred; patience. The patience to ask the right questions, the courage to let the uncomfortable moments hang, the tenacity to seek out the inconvenient truths. In the echo chambers of social media, you became louder but less clear. Opinions became currency, and analysis took a backseat to hot takes. And yet, I couldn’t let go. I didn’t want to. Because at your core, you’re still what I fell in love with, a medium that could provoke thought, shift perspectives, and, sometimes, even change lives.
Embed from Getty ImagesThere are days when I wonder if we’ve stretched you too thin, demanding too much, too fast, with too little care for the weight that each word carries. I see fellow young reporters coming up, trying to navigate this whirlwind, balancing their own voices with the need to stand out in a landscape full of noise. And I wonder if we’re showing them the wrong path, prioritising virality over veracity.
But still, I believe in you. I believe in what you stand for when you’re at your best. I believe in your ability to elevate society, to hold a mirror up to the world and ask, “What now? Where do we go from here?”
Embed from Getty ImagesJournalism, you are imperfect. You frustrate me, test me, and sometimes break my heart. But you also inspire me. And for that, I can’t walk away. I won’t. We need you, now more than ever, your honesty, your integrity, your ability to cut through the noise and remind us all of what truly matters.
So, here’s my promise to you: I’ll keep pushing. I’ll keep asking the questions that matter, even when they’re uncomfortable. I’ll keep looking for stories that need to be told, not just stories that are easy to sell. I’ll hold you accountable, just as you hold me.
Embed from Getty ImagesBecause at the end of the day, you are more than a profession. You are a calling, a responsibility. And I owe you that much.
I’ll forever love you until my soul ceases to exist.
Forever More.
Yours,
Lachlan
