My Paradox

By Diego Martinez

Student journalists are among the hardest-working people on college campuses. We work around the clock to provide our campuses with accurate, high-quality information. We interview, research, and fact-check—and yes, we’re often the very annoying people asking questions when it’s inconvenient.

Unfortunately, all this work comes with a cost. No, it doesn’t only take 30 minutes to write a story. We work for hours, sometimes days, to ensure that what we are providing for our community is not only correct but meaningful. In a world saturated with misinformation, student journalists strive to be the reliable source of truth. 

I have been a journalist for four years now, and I often reflect on how much I underestimated college journalism when I was writing for my high school paper. I went from writing three stories a month to writing two stories a day. I’ll admit—it can be exhausting.

Sometimes, I forget I have a life outside of journalism. I forget I can write creatively or explore other forms of expression. 

Despite the challenges, I’ve met some amazing people in this field. My first real encounter with fellow journalists came when I attended my first publications conference, which brought together students from other school papers. There was something inspiring in their eyes—they loved journalism just as much as I did. For the first time, I felt like I had found people who shared my passion.

As I spoke to them more, I realized that our shared passion came with shared struggles. Many of us doubted our work, questioned our abilities, and sometimes allowed that self-doubt to damage our confidence and leave us feeling uncertain about our futures.

I think about my future in journalism quite often. Even when my work has shown that I am on the right path, there’s a persistent voice in my head telling me it might not work out. I’ve been told several times that I have potential. When there’s potential to succeed, there’s potential to fail.

I recently finished up my first semester of writing for a college paper. While burnout creeps in at times, I’ve learned so much—lessons that have improved not only my journalism skills but also my writing as a whole. The stress and frustration are real, but the rewarding moments make it worthwhile.

I had the opportunity to speak with Luna Schafer, news editor for The Lewis Flyer at Lewis University, about her experience in student journalism. Schafer shared how rewarding her role has felt.

“It’s been such a rewarding experience for me, mainly because it has expanded my vocabulary drastically,” Schafer said. “It has helped me understand the writing process way better for my classes.”

Confidence is something I have personally struggled with as a journalist. I often found it difficult to approach interviewees, and I was often worried that I appeared unqualified.

Schafer shared a similar experience.

“It was a little bit difficult to find people just because I feel like they didn’t take me as seriously,” Schafer said. “Which is a little bit discouraging, and it started to frustrate me a bit.” 

Despite the frustrations, experiences like Schafer’s and my own highlight the important truth about student journalism: feeling unqualified is often a major part of the learning process. Many of us step into newsrooms without realizing that confidence is not an overnight thing—it comes from doing the work, over and over again.

What other people might not realize is that student journalists come from all academic backgrounds. Some study biology, psychology, political science, or the arts, but they still find themselves working late hours into the night in the newsroom, chasing interviews during the day, and rewriting long stories way after the deadline. 

Dylan Hembrough, editor-in-chief for The Alestle at Southern Illinois University Edwardsville, explains how balancing being a pharmacy student and student journalist can be difficult at times. 

“I very much have the two personas going on right now,” said Hembrough. “I constantly had people asking me, ‘Why are you here if you’re not going into journalism?’ and it always hurts a little bit.”

Hembrough’s experience shows a common sentiment among student journalists who do not seek a career in journalism. Despite their dedication and long hours, their commitment is often questioned simply because their intentions point towards different career paths. 

In addition to the workload of student media, Hembrough was also responsible for overseeing the entire school newspaper. 

Hembrough expressed how the management hierarchy cost him something he valued deeply.

“We were all put in those positions to do a job, and being friends shouldn’t have interfered with that, but it ended up interfering with it,” said Hembrough. “Doing what I think was the right thing ended up costing me some friendships.” 

That experience highlights a reality that many student journalists face but rarely talk about. Managing a newsroom means making difficult decisions. For many journalists, that sacrifice can often feel heavy. 

Regardless, students continue to show up. We stay late, ask difficult questions, and hold ourselves to professional standards—not because we have to, but because we care.

Student journalism isn’t defined by the major, the title, or the future career plan; it is defined by the dedication, integrity, and willingness to share stories that matter.

Student journalism is a learning process—one that teaches far more than writing and reporting. It teaches time management and responsibility. These lessons follow student journalists long after they receive their diplomas, regardless of where their careers lead. 

Journalism may not be the end goal for everyone in the newsroom, but the impact from the work will continue to stay the same. For those who dedicate their time, energy, and heart to student media, the experience often feels like more than just an extracurricular—it feels like a second major and, at times, a sacrifice worth making.