In part one of this series, we featured stories of success, struggle and purpose from three remarkable women journalists who built their careers in primarily white-male-dominated newsrooms. For part two, we sat down with three more remarkable women journalists in the state working to establish a more equitable and inclusive media landscape that centers the narratives of communities being pushed to exist on the periphery of mainstream media. 

In pursuit of amplifying community voices and holding power to account, these women journalists aim to tell stories that better reflect the lived experiences of New Jersey's growing non-white population, which they say is best done by non-white journalists with similar or shared lived experiences, and connects us all across the whole sphere of civil society. 

One of journalism's core functions is to give a voice to the underrepresented, yet diversity continues to be lacking in newsrooms around the state, along with an unstable job market and the need for more financial support for local newsrooms.

Although non-white representation in legacy media falls short of what it needs to be, these women journalists say it's more reason for them to stick around, represent and tell stories that would otherwise be butchered or overlooked.

Q: What brought you into journalism, and what was your path?

A: I have always been interested in journalism. My father was an avid news watcher, and he and my grandfather would always buy the newspaper every day. I would take it after they were done, and I would skim through and read whatever I could understand. I would also always stand in front of the TV and mimic the anchor and news reporters when I was younger

However, this was not when I first realized I was interested in journalism; that revelation came a bit later in life. Specifically in January 2011 during the Egyptian Revolution on the balcony of my home in Cairo, Egypt. This is when and where I realized I was interested in journalism and TV, and when I realized not everything you see on TV is correct and that there are other narratives to the same story. 

I looked out my window and saw protesters being chased down by police who were throwing tear bombs at them and arresting many of them on the spot. I lived so close to Mostafa Mahmoud Square and relatively close to Tahrir Square, two of the main spots for protests that took place during the Egyptian Revolution. I would look at the TV and watch them show empty streets, talking about how peaceful it was outside and that there were no protests, no police brutality, nothing. But then I would turn my head and see the reality of what was happening. 

I would look out my window and see police barricading the area and closing off our main street, shouting into a big microphone asking all the residents to shut off their lights and not open any windows because they were filming: They would film how peaceful and calm the situation was after they purposely stopped anyone from entering the area. It was then that I realized I was interested in journalism on a deeper, personal level. I was frustrated that people weren't seeing the truth that I was seeing; I was young but angry and disappointed. 

After I moved to the U.S. in 2016, my freshman year of college, I was a bit lost with the schooling system and the opportunities I had. I could study anything I wanted, literally anything. After experimenting a little bit, I decided to go with communications, but my heart was still thinking about journalism. I doubted my ability to express myself and my thoughts in English and my ability to survive AP Style, citations and adjusting to a whole different writing style. Imposter syndrome is real. 

I ended up talking to the chair of the Journalism Department at Rutgers University because I always knew I loved journalism. While we were talking, he asked me "Very quickly without thinking — I'll give you five seconds to answer — if you can be anything in this world, no restrictions, no college degree required, nothing, what would you wanna be?" 

My answer was "Reporter or content writer." That's when he said, "What are you doing studying anything else but journalism?" He picked up the phone, called student services, and switched my major for me. I was surprised and a little shocked, but later on, I knew that deep down this is what I actually really wanted and this turned out to be the best decision someone had made for me. I enjoyed every class and every assignment and went on to get my master's in media studies right after undergrad. 

All my doubts started getting better when I started to actually face my fears and take criticism and feedback from my professors. I enrolled in my school's radio station. I wrote ads and news and had a small daily show that used to play in the hallways of the buildings. I started taking online opportunities and writing for different websites and publications and with every step I learned a little bit more. I am still learning and will forever be learning and improving. I always tell myself I just need to take the first dip and go for it.

Q: What challenges have you faced? 

A: Being one of the only hijabis was a little scary at first. A lot of heads turned to me when discussing certain topics like terrorism and how it's portrayed in the media, for example. Thankfully, this only made me read more as I wanted to be knowledgeable about certain topics and be able to talk about them from my perspective as an immigrant Muslim woman and give my insight.

Imposter syndrome is also another big challenge that I faced and still struggle with to this day. It's always so easy to compare yourself with others and see everything you are lacking, but I have learned that it takes courage and effort to acknowledge what you are capable of and your achievements. Comparing yourself with others, especially if they are within the same minority group as you but have reached higher accomplishments, can help you re-evaluate your choices and steps you've taken so far, but it shouldn't hold you back and discourage you from continuing your journey.

Q: What encourages you to continue this work?

A: I love doing what I do because it gives me the opportunity to give voice to those who are usually voiceless and not by choice. I get to dive deeper into issues and further explain concepts in ways others usually can't. When someone from my community reaches out to me asking for help or just saying they appreciate the work I do because they usually don't get that kind of representation, it means the world to me and feels so fulfilling. It also helps with that imposter syndrome.

 Q: Why should more women join the field? 

No one will tell your story better than you. We face a lot of challenges in our lives, and no one will talk about them better than we do. No one else should control the narrative about our stories and concerns. And no one should dictate to women how to feel, what to do or how their lives should go.

Q: What would you say to young women thinking about becoming journalists?

A: It's challenging but worth it. There are a lot of obstacles in the way especially with how the job market is right now, but keep trying. Take all the opportunities you can and experiment with different aspects of the field. Have patience and the flexibility to learn and grow. Appreciate feedback and look for it. Listen to those who are older and learn from their journey. 

Always remind yourself why you are doing this and why you chose this challenging path. What we do is so important, however big or small it may seem, and people need us. Always remember that. 

Q: What brought you into journalism, and what was your path? 

A: It's always interesting answering this one because I've had a unique path to journalism. I didn't go to a traditional journalism school, J-School. It was the spring of 2019, and two or more people sent me the same job description: "Hey, this sounds like work you already do. I think you'll be cool at this." It was a role as the New Voices fellow, which was a partnership between Free Press and WBGO Newark Public Radio. 

They were looking for a Newark resident to join the news team at WBGO to think about information needs, how to create coverage that was more reflective of the community, to support them in news gathering and different strategies — just on that news department side, because WBGO is a jazz station, NPR affiliated and does have the news. It was also how do we have more local folks learning about that particular section of WBGO. And I was like, "Okay, cool. Let me check this out. I know young people, I know community. That's my work, right?" So, I was just open to the possibility, and it just turned out I was their person. 

About the last 10 years of my professional life, like in 2019, I did a lot of work in education, working across Newark public schools by way of a nonprofit. I was a site director at Malcolm X Shabazz High School at the time, just looking for my next step, especially because the nonprofit I was working for — the nonprofit industrial complex — they had a lot of stuff that they were working out fiscally. And so I wasn't too sure; a lot was in the balance around my livelihood, which was also why I was like, "It's a good time to explore something new." Then, I landed at WBGO. And I will always give credit to Doug Doyle, who is still the news director at WBGO Newark Public Radio, because had it not been for Doug recognizing my natural talent and not being tied to that very hard journalism-media belief that you have to go to J-school and you have to know these things, my entry into journalism as a fellow wouldn't have happened. 

Doug was really like a mentor and a teacher, and he was like, "You're out here having all of these conversations? How do you know all of these people?" and he would say, "You should just take a recorder with you and just record your conversations. Record what's going on outside." That was really the beginning of my work. Dough coaching and training me, "This is the spot, this is top of the hour, this is bottom of the hour." And with Doug, it just snowballed — "I need this spot," or "I need you to go with this recorder at this time to get this coverage" — that snowballed into me doing my own thing. So, really, Doug put me in that lane because I was already doing my community thing and events — I know how to do all that stuff — but Doug was like, "No, you need to be over here doing this too. You have a great voice." So that was pretty much the beginning of my entry point to journalism.

I knew it was for me because I'm just a lover of all things audio and radio. Even thinking about my grandparents — that's why I was interested in WBGO — it's something I remember my grandparents listening to. I love jazz. I love house music. Jazz is foundational to all music; I just love music: house, hip hop, all of those things. So, it just felt like a really cool alignment to jump into something new, but Doug nurtured me and saw something in me. Alexandra Hill, who was also a journalist there at the time, coached me. She was one of the lead reporters at the time and was always on the air. She would pop in and give me notes. So it was really like a crash course on the go because once I started rolling, Doug was like, "Okay, go here, and go here, and do this." It took on a life of its own.

Q: What challenges have you faced? 

A: It's a complex question. Some of the challenges of being Black, being queer, being masculine presenting, and also being disabled is just its own world and are things that I'm always navigating as I move through this world. It's challenging existing on these different intersections and navigating that in my life, in spaces where I feel powerful and sometimes in some spaces or some lived experiences where I haven't. Some of the challenges I was most present to at WBGO have even been around being a Newark resident. Especially when Amy Niles, a white woman, was CEO.

I experienced a lot of ableism when it came to just like my medical condition: questioning my medical condition and questioning my capability because of my disability. So, that was a really difficult challenge to navigate. And I'm always super grateful to Doug, Alex and some other trusted folks at the time who experienced their own things in their individual experiences at WBGO at the time. But that was one of the challenges I remember when stepping into this journalism space because it's like, "Okay, we're doing something innovative. We want community here," and then I'm dealing with the ableism. Then I'm also dealing with what I found some folks believed to be true about people from Newark. Like I have a bachelor's degree, but there are things that you still question about what I have the capacity to do, whether it's because of my disability or because I'm actually from this community. So, those were some of the challenges I experienced at WBGO, but Doug, Alex and others — a tight crew of some other Black femmes — they made that experience worthwhile. And that speaks to the challenge of being a Black founder. 

I founded programs and projects and launched things, but never in the large capacity of the Newark News & Story Collaborative and Five Wards Wedia. I had the opportunity to step into that because, at the time, WBGO was shifting leadership — Amy had stepped down, and it was a whole mess — but they cut the program, which means they cut my job. That in itself is complex, but this is where I'll always be forever grateful to the Dodge Foundation. When that happened, my program officer at Dodge made sure they could continue to fund the program they seeded at this institution — but I say that's a challenge because that work was seeded at a particular place that was still working and had that sort of consistency. We're not this institution with all of these resources. We're an independent institution. 

That funding challenge was hard — leaving a place like WBGO Newark Public Radio and becoming an independent organization where it's just me and whoever we can hire to freelance or be an independent contractor to do things for a very specific amount of time and turnaround. I'm not even on salary, and I would love to have people on salary. That's the challenge: funding and figuring out sustainability. How do we plan and push forward to becoming a more anchored institution with the resources of something that we had to leave for a lot of different reasons? 

So, we've been functioning as an independent organization, and it's been going great. Things are happening that people say wouldn't work. But the challenge is that the investments usually made in these larger institutions aren't in smaller organizations or community-based projects; the opportunity or the dollar amount is much smaller. But still, sometimes the expectation is the same: "Can you still produce the same thing?" 

There's this will of "I want to be sustainable. I want to produce this thing," but we need the actual funding and the runway to do that: multi-year funding or general operation funding or figuring out some other pathways to find sustainable revenue models. But when it's just you and the people you have for X amount of time working, that does pose a challenge. It hasn't stopped the work; we're still going, but I'd be lying if I said that wasn't one of the biggest challenges. 

The other challenge, too, is that I want to be recording, I want to be doing my thing, but then it's like, I got to send an email, I got to put the budget together, I got to write the grant — so I'm wearing all these hats.

Q: What encourages you to continue this work? 

A: The people. 

We launched the first pilot for our community media cohorts, a community media training to do Newark stories, and depending on the type of piece the community member works on during their time with us, we'll publish it on Five Wards Media or NewarkStories.com. That has been, honestly, my greatest joy — community building and bringing people together, but all around, the power of storytelling and storytelling as a means of building connection and as a pathway to community organizing and coalition building. I think the big vision for us, at this point, having trained over 50 residents across the City of Newark through our community media training, is we're building a network of people who have these different skills that are showing up in their lives in different ways. 

One of our fellows is now president of her Block Club. She joined our Community Media Lab, experiencing these challenges and housing challenges, and she knew people on her block and in her community were experiencing these same challenges, whether it be around housing, economic stability, or health. So, the work that we do has also been a place of deep reflection and allows people to realize what they can step into for their neighborhood and community. That's resulted from us sharing stories, training people around journalism and media, and training people left out of the conversation. 

When we think about the news that is accessible or not behind a paywall, people aren't always engaging with it, with things they feel are for them or are not for them, so how do we create a space for people to be informed but also able to see themselves reflected in the media? I think this is equally important to us, especially in a city that is majority Black and Latino. 

When we think about these larger news organizations, they drop in when there's inter-communal violence or violence by the state. And it is really important for people to recognize the power in sharing their own lived experiences because it gets us closer to that "Hey, you're dealing with the same thing that I'm dealing with," "Oh, I want to share my story too," or "How can I connect?" We see a lot of that in the work we're doing, the stories we're sharing and the training; it's like people just want that place of connection, but not just that place of connection — how does that move you to action? 

We're seeing people getting moved to action in their immediate communities. They're building their skills around what they can do. Our fellows start to collaborate and do their own things. And that's been really awesome — to have a space for us. I'm a Newark resident, born and raised in the South Ward, currently living in Lincoln Park, and a young person still — I'm going to be 33 — so I love Newark. I love bringing people together, and that has just been the gift of this work. I'm bringing together so many people who love Newark but also who want to share their stories and have a commitment to folks being empowered, no matter what that looks like.

We want to give people the skills they need if they want to move forward and freelance because there's also — what I've learned in doing this work — there's a gap. We have people who have gone to journalism schools, but there's nowhere for them to work, at least in this landscape of where we are. When we think about living in a city like Newark, there are opportunity gaps sometimes. Like, what media outlet? Are you going to work full-time? Who's prioritizing people from this community who have the degree? So that's been interesting to see. There are people who are qualified to do this work, but they're working in other sectors because of barriers; it just hasn't presented itself for them to be in that journalism world or immersed fully. And for us, it's getting clear about our role in that because there are conversations to be said about news and journalism: Who are the opportunities for?

And I'm not saying you don't need any training at all. We see stuff online, and it's like, "No, there is a process. There is a way to do things." But there is also space for us to explore new things and other ways because when we think about multi-marginalized people and the opportunities we are locked out of, journalism and media are not separate and apart from that. We are still locked out of opportunities but also information — we're in a news desert. We're in an information desert. I love all of the new things, the community projects and local publications that are popping up, but I talk to young people all the time: "What are you engaging with? What do you read online?" And it's not, all the time, these local publications. Unless you're seeking out a particular thing or you're following a particular age, you can just be left out of the conversation altogether. 

I don't see our work as solely responsible for figuring out how to fill all these information needs — that will take many things — our work is how do we train people so they're doing that service for their community if they want to launch their own media initiatives, news organization, or information projects. For us, that's the goal. How do we be the catalyst for more people to have access to training, tools, professionals, experts and opportunities — such that they can create and launch things that we can support, partner with them on, and uplift? Because I'm thinking about the next decade. 

What are the training programs or the opportunities for them to learn and be able to say, "I could go launch that magazine," "I can go launch this type of hyper-local website," or "I can go launch that podcast." That's where we rest in all of this: How do we have this training hub? This place where we train people, share information, have cool projects, create different things with our fellows and with our own production to support, inspire and innovate in that space of "What is the media landscape going to look like here in the next 10 to 20 years?"

We want more media, inclusive media, and media that reflects the people who are here now. Our stance on that is training development, bringing people together, being in community and supporting them in the best ways that we can.

Q: Why should more women join the field? 

A: There's so much room for Black women, women of color, Black femmes and femmes of color — I'm saying femmes because some people don't necessarily identify as women — to take up space because that's just who we had to be throughout time and history: We have to take our place; we have to take up space. 

When I think about Black women and femmes in journalism, Ida B. Wells comes to mind. She knew that something needed to be documented and accounted for, and she didn't ask for permission and said, "I'm going to go do that." That piece is really important for us to continue. We've been carving out a space for us, for ourselves, no matter what's been happening, because this world continues to count us out. I think there will always be room, there will always be safe places and we will always have to make it. 

I've been thinking a lot about journalism and media and the preservation of culture, especially in a city like Newark, where the landscape is changing so quickly. Who will preserve the culture? Who will preserve the stories? Who will understand that these stories are sacred? And it's Black women, it's Black femmes, it's women of color who understand that our story is sacred, and throughout time, we've kept them sacred, and we've shared them. The mediums may change, shift and evolve, and technology may evolve, but I think that role remains the same — in a world that is still trying to count us out. 

Even when you think of the policy level of the corporatization of media, now, more than ever, we need people launching independent things, speaking truth to power, wanting to dig a little deeper, wanting to build community because we're one piece of it, so how do we continue to build and work together. We need more people in the field to continue to preserve our stories and share our stories and speak truth to power of what our lived experiences are such that it continues to inform and liberate.

I'm just a lover of history and culture, so I will just be in an archive. I came across an organizer who wrote about the Clinton Hill neighborhood in the South Ward in the 70s, before 1978. So, when I'm looking for stuff, it's the news articles and community writers — those are the things that inform. We need people doing that because that's what preserves our history. And also what we have to say: We were here. 

New buildings are going up every day. Every day, I walk outside; something's changed, something's different. People are being pushed to other cities; they can't afford to live in Newark anymore — that report is real. We're still seeing luxury units go up. Every day, I see people struggling, wanting to stay in Newark, to be here, wanting to be employed, and it's just becoming harder and harder. And who preserves even this moment in time? And when we're thriving? Young people have a very different experience of what is happening in their city, and the folks who make it their commitment to speak at every citizen's hearing at the city council meetings. 

I think it's really important: the stories that we share, tell and write; this preservation of a moment in time that’s going to be really important to somebody else like me who's like, "Well, let me go see what's in the archive." "Who was writing about this?" or "What was written about X?" I think about it in that way. 

Q: What would you say to young women thinking about becoming journalists?

A: Find community. I don't know if I would still be doing what I'm doing if I wasn't connected to other people and other places who are doing the same things for their community: running community media programs, information projects and news organizations that have morphed into other things and have opened up other possibilities. I have people I can call and really shoot the shit with and be like, "I want to quit today." Because that's very real, and sometimes, the work can feel isolating, and none of the work should feel that way. So, find community and find the people who really support you in your most authentic way. 

Don't feel like you have to shift or change, because that's a lot of how I felt, but mostly because there were things that a white woman at a radio station cared about, like pronunciation and things like that —  and I'm not saying all those things don’t matter — but sometimes some of the stuff she did was just anti-Black. So it's like you're not bugging out; some people just be extra — they are doing too much, and you probably already have the answers. I think that's been one of the things I've learned: While I came into journalism and media in this unique way, there are a lot of things that I'm an expert at and that I do really well that I've experienced people trying to diminish because I didn't have the journalism degree, or so have you, which is also why I created this space. 

I got very clear about what was missing. We actually need something for our young people to engage with that's not the crime beat or that's not mugshots. Everybody swoops in on our community when there's gun violence and just violence, but that's only part of the story because you're talking about it like it's not connected to poverty. And so, that's the piece that I would offer folks: You probably already have the answer. Go where you're welcome. Stand 10 toes on your rate. And sometimes you have to be generous with the smaller publications, but only if it feels good, only if it's heartwork. 

One of these corporations brought out a paper — they can pay you your money — but try to tag onto something local. The landscape is shifting so much, so don't be afraid to explore the things you do well and you don't do well. I know that if I don't do it well, I want to find somebody who does it well and somebody I want to learn from — always be willing to learn and share those learnings. Be grounded in community because that's also who checks you or who you can check in with, and I think that's important for anybody in journalism and the media. 

Be open and be unafraid to ask for the support you need because, just like every sector, there's so much space and room for us because we've been closed out of spaces and opportunities. And that's why I would say for anybody looking to come to the field who's like, "This looks a mess right now; I don't even know if I should even become a journalist," we need somebody to preserve the stories, and we need somebody to amplify the stories and the lived experiences that are yours. 

Be unafraid to center yourself in the work. And that's been one of my learnings and something I'm leaning into. Journalism can sometimes be in that conversation of objectivity, and you can't say this — but if I lived that, then I'm connected to this thing differently, how I'm able to tell this story is different; I may actually want to bring in something personal to make larger connections. So, be unafraid to bring yourself to the work because that's how you know you're doing the work. My good friend shared with me that it's important to center yourself in the work because you do this work for you, too. And I'm like, "Yeah, I do this work for me, too. I'm from Newark, too. I want other things to engage with, too. I want to see myself in those things, too." And so a lot of our "why" and why we say yes is because we know what it's like, so always be present to that. Because when it's always out here, outside of yourself — I know just from my personal experiences — you can start to feel disconnected from the mission or the why of what you're doing.

And the media is a mess, and these newsrooms are a mess, and that's why my stance is that people need to launch things. We need to launch things and figure out how to work together because we see what's happened in the media. Corporations are buying stuff, and people don't trust the news. It's always left up to the community to figure things out and fill gaps, but it's really hard in the journalism and media space. That's why I'm like, "Be unafraid to build something else." Because the stories that I've heard from Black women, Black femmes, women of color, queer folks, non-binary folks is that it's time to bet on ourselves, on our communities, and that's another reason why I do this work: I see value in my community, and my people and the talent that is here and already exists, that somewhere in some traditional news space, they have already decided that we are not news consumers, that we don't care about things. Data tells a story, but then there are deeper things to consider. 

It's like when we look at how many people come out to vote for school board elections here in Newark. You can look at that data, but the deeper picture is that we just got local control back around five years ago. So, if that's the case, where is the gap? The gap is in education — for the people to know they're responsible for that. Instead, in conversations I've had or been a part of, or invited to, or listened in on, people have the impression that folks don't care. They probably don't know. For two decades, the state has controlled our schools. And I'm 32. So it's been most of my life. We're voting now, but it's one of those things out of sight, out of mind. 

So, we can't assume nobody cares because they're not coming to vote. They probably do not know. And that's what I mean when I say I see a different value and opportunity in my community. Other people might look at the numbers and say they don't care, but that's not true. If only you came here to talk to someone. If only you came here to touch the ground — and that's the other piece, too: Are you making the time to be a journalist?

Q: What brought you into journalism? What was your path? 

A: I'm originally from Miami, Florida. My mom is Nicaragüense, and my dad is from Spain. I always knew I wanted to be a journalist. So that made my path in many ways — I don't want to say easier — but it gave me a sense of knowing what I wanted to pursue, and I was able to identify very early on what I needed to do to get where I wanted to go. 

In elementary school there was a program where we would do the morning announcements. So, that was my first journalism job. Fifth grade was WVGE-TV News, and it was led by the librarian; she was our news director, and it was five students and we would rotate. One day, I would be behind the camera. Another day, I would be the anchor. A different day, I would do the weather or the lunch menu. We would write a script of what we were going to say. So, I was able to do a lot of those different jobs. And I just knew: This is what I want to do. That was more the broadcast aspect of it, which I have done in my career, but writing has also been key for me because writing is my first love.

I was writing stories in kindergarten and first grade — as soon as I learned how to write, I started writing stories. When other kids were like, "I want to be a firefighter." "I want to be a ballerina." My thing was, "I want to be a writer." That was before I knew what a journalist did or who a journalist was. I've always been a very creative person and writing gave me that outlet to tap into that side of myself — my personality.

In middle school, there were no programs, and I was disappointed. It was basically just a yearbook, which I did, but a yearbook isn't really comparable to the other activities that I was doing. Then, in high school, in ninth grade, I was like, "Yes, I'm back in," and I joined the Newspaper Club and Intro to Journalism, and then from there, I never stopped.

I did my first professional internship when I was a junior at the Sun Sentinel — a newspaper in Fort Lauderdale, Florida — about 45 minutes to an hour from Miami, where I lived. My parents, credit goes to them because they always supported me. And at that point, I couldn't drive, and it was far away, but they were like, "If you get this, we'll take you." So, imagine taking me every day. It was a summer internship, I believe it was eight weeks, and it was for minority journalists. So, Latinos and other people of color from diverse backgrounds. That was my first professional internship, and I was 15 or 16 — a junior. But I just kept on going. I joined the National Association of Hispanic Journalists, and I found, through that organization, other opportunities and internships. 

I went to a National Convention. I did the Latino reporter, which is an internship program during the convention. So, they set up a newsroom at the venue with student journalists who applied — you have to be selected. You're paired with professional journalists who are mentoring throughout, and you put out a printed newspaper about the different workshops and speakers and everyone at the convention reads it. That particular one was in Fort Lauderdale. So, we also reported on things happening in the community in the days that we were there. Then I went to college and pursued journalism.

I'm bilingual — again, credit to my parents for making sure that I could speak, read and write and be completely fluent in both languages — so I've been able to practice journalism in Spanish. I did an internship at Telemiami, which was a Spanish station. So, I was reporting the news in Spanish between packages. I had a section every Friday, a segment called Cartelera Cultural, where I would tell families where they could go on the weekend for free or under $20. I've worked at Telemundo. And el Nuevo Herald, which is the Miami Herald's sister paper in Spanish — I also worked at the Miami Herald.

Being able to have those bylines at my school paper, internship and even freelance opportunities is important — knowing that I need to build a portfolio with clips. I need to be able to show what I can do, whether that's a story that was published or a video. If I can show what I can do, that's going to put me in a better place when compared to other kids who may discover that they want to do this at a later point and don't really have anything. That knowing has been helpful but not always easy.

If there's something in you that you're passionate about, even at a young age, and it sparks in you this light of how exciting this is and how it makes you feel, then it's just a wonderful thing. 

A lot of the things that I've achieved or done have not been easy in the sense that they have come with a lot of personal sacrifice. And not just to myself but to my family — but knowing that this is what I love, this is what I want to do, facilitated my career: How do I make this thing my career and pursue people who could help me? Mentors at the school level, mentors in the internships that I did — who can really help me out or teach me or guide me in the right direction of what I should be doing. And that's helpful.

Q: What challenges have you faced? 

A: The fact that I didn't have a trust fund. My parents are immigrants; everything that I've been able to do has been with their help — with their sacrifice and my own. They helped me as much as they could, but I didn't get a student loan. I didn't have a scholarship. I didn't have any kind of savings or financial backing. So, all during college, I was waitressing tables to put myself through school. That's something that, now, I'm very proud of — semester by semester, paying as I go, working multiple jobs and studying even when I was really exhausted and wanted to sleep, and just really pushing myself. 

If I could have just been a full-time student and not had to worry about the money, I probably would have gotten my degree a lot quicker — but now, years later, that was really the right thing to do because I don't have any loans. I don't have any worries. And that chapter of my life is behind me. I know it's not unique, and I know it's something that a lot of children of immigrants experience. A lot of my friends and peers were in the same boat. Miami is a heavily Latino city, but I see a lot of my challenges as positives now. 

For example, I always knew I wanted to be a newspaper reporter. Even though I enjoyed broadcast, I knew that wasn't the field I wanted to go into — I don't want to be an anchor; I like being in the street, I like talking to people, and I like being out and about. I knew that even though I really enjoyed writing, I was good at broadcast because I'm outgoing. A part of my personality lends itself to being on camera. A lot of times, people ask, "Have you ever thought of being on TV?" And I'm like, "Yeah, I did that already." But I wanted to write, and at that time, I couldn't find an internship or a job at a newspaper. So I pivoted. And I did the television internship because it's still journalism — not exactly what I wanted, but I did it. So, sometimes, that's a challenge. A lot of young people have their minds made up: "I want to write sports and only sports, and if I don't do that, I'm not going to do it." 

I think you have to be flexible: "Okay, well, this is a challenge. It's not the exact opportunity that I want. But if I can get my foot in the door, maybe writing about features or lifestyle, and then I prove myself. Then I let them know that my real passion is sports, and then maybe they'll give me an opportunity."

The ultimate challenge, though, was moving here — moving away from my family, from everything that I knew and loved in Miami. I just had a baby, and my husband and I were living with my parents. This was 2015. I could not find a full-time job in Miami. I was actively working, and I had a lot of freelance work, but it wasn't what I wanted at that point. I wanted something that was full-time where I was going to have benefits, I was going to have health care for me and for my child — I could move out with my husband and with my baby. Miami, just like New Jersey, is very expensive. So, without that, I had to stay where I was, and then I got an opportunity in New York to work at Newsday on Long Island as a business reporter. 

In Miami, I was not a business reporter. I was writing features, lifestyle and celebrity coverage, like red carpets. I did a lot of interviews with celebrities like George Lopez and Kevin Hart. And it was a really fun time — the coverage was exciting — but it wasn't full-time. So, the opportunity in Long Island was full-time. There were benefits, great pay, and everything that I wanted. It was business reporting, which was completely different; I had never done that. But that was a challenge that I welcomed. 

I was like, "I've never written about business. So, let's see how I can make my experience and myself as a Latina make this really great." For me, it's about proving it to myself: "I can do this, but being that I don't like math, can I write about the stock market? Can I write about publicly traded companies, and small business and loans and all that entails?" And I did it for six years. That's how much I ended up liking it.

But that wasn't even the biggest challenge. For me, the biggest challenge was leaving my parents behind and my sisters. And, for me, family is everything. I grew up in a multifamily household with my grandparents, and my abuelita and my tio and my tia and the dogs and the parrots, just everyone. A very full, lively home, and just all of a sudden I had to — for the first time ever — move out and move away from Miami to New York and not be with my mom and that comfort of my family life. That's by far been, for me, the biggest challenge. It's still challenging today. It's a journalist's life. You have to go where the jobs are, and sometimes that's going to be in another state. I'm still thinking that one day I'll return, but realistically, I'm not sure that'll happen. 

Finding the balance is always going to be a struggle, and also the fact that for us journalists I don't really believe that there's work-life balance. A lot of people clock in and clock out, they go to their job, they do it for eight hours and then that's it. They're off. I'm never off. My mind is always thinking about the story I'm working on, the one I'm going to work on next, the person that I have to call back. I'm always looking at the news because if anything happens, I need to know about it, and I need to write something.

As your responsibilities and priorities change, you have to adjust, make tweaks wherever you can and give yourself grace. We're doing the best we can. I even tell myself that because I'm a perfectionist. So sometimes, I have to say, "My best is good enough." And I'm harder on myself than anyone. My boss is not even this hard, like no one is as hard on me as I am. That, for me, is a big challenge, to be like, "Okay, that's fine. I did what I could. And tomorrow, I'll try again." 

Q: What encourages you to continue this work? 

A: I'm a columnist at NJ.com, the Star Ledger, which is the biggest publication in the state, and I'm the only woman who’s a columnist and the only person of color who’s a columnist. So, what encourages me is knowing that, for now, I am the only one. I'm the only one who brings my lived experience, who brings my perspective and my voice, and who's always thinking about the people overlooked by other people. 

I'm always thinking about the immigrants. I'm always thinking about the Latinos. I'm always thinking about the Black people. What about the Muslims? New Jersey is such a diverse state — we have so many ethnic populations and pockets here and there throughout the state. And I don't want to, by any means, imply that everyone else at my job doesn't care about these groups. That's not what I'm saying. But as a columnist and opinion columnist, I am bringing my voice to our coverage in ways my colleagues can't do for the sole reason they're not columnists. Their job isn't to give their opinion; their job is just to report the news. 

But when you have three columnists and two of them are white men and only one is a woman and a person of color, then their opinions are going to vary just because of who they are and their lived experiences — their gender, their race — who they are, and that's completely fine; I think we have to have room for all different voices. I'm always for adding more voices, not diminishing the ones already there, because they serve a purpose, too. That's important. So, it encourages me to know that what I'm contributing is important, and not only for me but it's important for all of those groups of people who are constantly on my mind and who are constantly in my coverage. That is the focus of my columns: people of color and diverse communities here in New Jersey.

Not only are Latina columnists lacking in our state, but if you look at the number of Latina columnists throughout the country, it's lacking. There's Helen Ubiñas, she's in the Philadelphia Inquirer. We had Jean Guerrero at the LA Times, but she got laid off. There are a lot of layoffs that affect all journalists but also journalists of color. And so just knowing that I'm part of this really small, kind of exclusive group, which I wish wasn't the case — I wish one day, maybe when I retire, I can say there are dozens of columnists who are Latinas or who are daughters of immigrants or who are Muslim, or who are women of color or who are Black, but that's not the case right now — it encourages me. 

It encourages me to know that I have to keep doing this work. It's important to so many people, and I get encouraged when I get feedback, too. When I get emails from people who are like, "Oh, my God, the man you wrote about reminds me of my uncle." Or "The column you wrote about trying to teach your kids Spanish, that really touched me because I feel the same way." Or "I'm so thankful that you wrote this. I've never seen a story like this before." And not everybody is going to agree with what I have to say; not everyone is going to agree with my point of view — I get those emails, too. 

Sometimes people are racist, and I've been called a spic and a wet back, and all these other things — and a Mexican, as if calling me a Mexican is an insult. It's not an insult. I'm not Mexican, but if I was, I would be proud to be. So I get those emails when people disagree with me or try to somehow insult or degrade me because they didn't like something that I said or because they have a different point of view. And that's fine. That's all fine as long as they're reading. It really impacted them, too, because otherwise, they wouldn't have taken the time to send the nasty message. But all the feedback is encouraging.

Q: Why should more women join the field? 

A: In all areas, in all fields, we need more women because, really, we bring such a unique perspective. And whenever we are a part of a team or a part of a project, we somehow make it better. That's just a special magic power that we have. I saw this short clip the other day on social media that said, "If you give a woman a house, she'll give you a home." "If you give her ingredients, she'll give you a meal" — anything you give her, she's going to make it better. You give us a raw product, and we'll turn it into something great. And I think that's why we need more women in the newsroom. 

We need those voices. We need someone to say, "Hey, wait a minute," and particularly for women of color, because we represent two of those identities: We're women, but we're also women of color. So, we have a different lived experience. And we bring our culture with us; it's like bringing your full self to work — being able to do that is what will help our coverage represent the community better and be more reflective of the community. And not only in newsrooms but in STEM fields, hospitals, the medical field, lawyers — in any field that a man can be, we should be there too. Why not?

Q: What would you say to young women thinking about becoming journalists?

A: First of all, I encourage them to do internships as early as they can because an internship gives you an idea of whether this is something you're really going to enjoy and also what part of it you like because you get to rotate. There are a lot of internships where they let you do different jobs and shadow different people in the newsroom, so you know what you enjoy the most, like writing or photography, or you would like to be an editor, and then you can shadow an editor. So I would say if you feel like this is something you would like to do as a career, experiment with it through an internship or some other similar program where you could do it — launch yourself into the work and see.

There have been people who have done internships, and then they're like, "Yeah, no, I thought I wanted to do this, but I don't like this. I don't like the schedule, or I don't really enjoy the writing, or this isn't for me," which is also important. And that's fine. If it's not something that you think is what you thought it would be or that you're enjoying, then you can move on to try something else. That would be my first advice: Try to get an opportunity where you can really see for yourself if it is what you want to do.

The other thing is to try to diversify your skills, especially now in journalism. It's not enough to be a one-trick pony in the sense of "This is what I do. I only do this. I only want to do politics" — that's not enough anymore. In today's world, not only do you have to be like, "Well, I can write a column, I can write it in English and Spanish, but I can also do a TikTok and a reel for Instagram. I can be on camera, but I also can edit the video." I think you need to diversify your skills, whether you write but also do a podcast or you do a podcast, and you have a great following on TikTok because you do videos about the news. Or you know how to edit. And you know how to take pictures — diversify your skills.

As I said before, there are a lot of layoffs. It's like every day, you see layoffs, layoffs, layoffs. So, right now, it is a little bit of a challenging field in the sense that there's turmoil and instability when it comes to employment. So, for me, one way that I try to foolproof my career against something like that happening is by being able to do many different things. That opens me up to other opportunities but also makes me more valuable where I'm at. Because when you're thinking of who we can cut from staff and it's like "Oh, but this person writes, and also does social and videos, and also edits," I'm thinking it might be able to set you apart from someone else who may have less skills.

That's more difficult for older people to kind of wrap their minds around — they've had a full career, and now you're asking them all of a sudden to learn TikTok, and it could be hard for them. For younger journalists, I would say don't only do the one thing that you think is going to be "the thing" — what else can you give them? What else can you bring to the table? What other skills or what other languages can you learn that you can apply to your coverage?

In New Jersey, there are so many Latinos, and they're from Honduras, Guatemala, Mexico, El Salvador, and from so many other Central and Latin American countries. So, an example of that for me is the video work I do for NJ.com’s social outlets and the fact that I can report and cover stories about Latinos here in New Jersey because I speak Spanish and can communicate with them. So yeah, my advice for young journalists is to try to have multiple skills.