I should have spoken with more poor people.

Kyle Phillips disagrees with me on this point and believes that I placed us in dangerous situations out of our control. Maybe. But I think we should have done more of that.  Alright, I admit that residential foreclosure may not be the best topic in the world for a multimedia story for reasons I have described in previous assignments. But I still think it could have worked with more time to find the right people and then spend time with them before whipping out the camera. I wanted time to convince people of my sincerity and professionalism, to find that common ground upon which all relationships are made and build upon it unfiltered emotion of all great storytelling.

But I choked. I could have created a great story on foreclosure, but I didn’t realize the difference the camera makes.

Every time I approached a house required an act of will beyond anything I have experienced before as a journalist. I felt an invader, a predator, and incredibly out of place as a scrawny white kid dressed to the nines in the middle of Denton poverty I wasn’t even aware existed until a map of foreclosed homes took me there. It wasn’t that I was scared, just wrapped up in the Western obsession with personal space and privacy. How could I not be when I knew that was exactly what I was robbing from these people?

It has made me question whether people want or need this. Does Joe Schmo want to see this story? And if he doesn’t, is it really the journalist’s responsibility to feed it to him anyway for his own good?

Of course, it’s not like I surrendered to these inhibitions or let them influence the project. No, it was actually my confidence that hindered the story from coming to its maturity. I expected that it would all work out as soon as I gave my effort to it because that’s how this whole first year of journalism has been for me. It’s all just worked out and success was a given. Perhaps I simply hit a wall of what I am capable of without learning more and trying harder. Or maybe I’m not capable at all.

As you can see, I am plagued with far more questions than answers. In a way, this project is a fitting end to the year because it encompasses everything I’ve learned while dangling all the potential I have sought. After trying so hard in the music program and receiving no positive reinforcement, I switch to journalism and everything takes off. That juxtaposition, if nothing else, has kept me humble. All these accomplishments and I feel like I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing. My failure to instill this project with the quality it deserves is testament to that.

Oh, I don’t know, I think I’m rambling, now. At any rate, I enjoyed having you as a teacher and knowing you as a friend. I will try to come say my adieus tomorrow… if I wake up.