By MICHAEL RODRIGUEZ
Managing Editor
editor@sbnewspaper.com
Michael Rodriguez
It was a few years ago when I walked into a local elementary school to cover a feature story. While there, it was suggested that I interview a child whose generosity surprised many at the campus; apparently, he was once a very angry young man. Intrigued, I obliged the request.
The child, who I’ll call Danny, was polite, well-mannered and always addressed me as “Sir.” While taking notes, Danny looked up at me and asked, “So is this going to be in the newspaper, sir?” I smiled and replied, “You bet. It’s a good thing you’re doing here, and I’m sure other people will want to read about it.” After thanking me, Danny was escorted out of the room where the interview was conducted and back to his classroom.
In conversation with the people who suggested that I speak to Danny, I acknowledged sensing anger in the child, primarily because he never really looked directly at me nor did his facial expression ever change from an odd, emotionless gaze. And while he was always cordial, he appeared as though he wanted the interview to be over as soon as possible.
Of course, all that could mean is that he was nervous or simply having a bad day, so I chalked it up to Danny being misunderstood. After all, I felt uncomfortable agreeing with any determinations regarding his character. That’s when I was informed of Danny’s identity, and the source of his anger.
I learned that, over a year prior to our meeting, I had written a story about someone who Danny loved very much. That person died a rather tragic and untimely death, and I didn’t spare any of the gruesome details in my report. Every aspect of their death was revealed. Everything.
Understand that, before I met Danny, I had stopped caring about the people in my stories. They became numbers to me and had ceased to be people. It never affected my duties as a reporter or as the managing editor, nor did it compromise my journalistic integrity. It was my own personal integrity that was compromised.
You see, as a reporter, these stories are common – so common that you learn to use a template when compiling all the facts that can be ascertained by presstime. Someone’s killed? Okay. Learn everything you can about the victim. Get the name, age, place of residency, the time and date of their death, the suspected cause, the circumstances surrounding the incident and whether foul play is involved. End of story. Next.
What I saw in Danny that day changed me, because I realized that I didn’t just lack delicacy but affinity. I noticed my reporters would often remark, “That’s horrible,” while working on similar stories; yet I felt nothing. So I began seeking counseling from colleagues and from men and women of faith. My pastors at Grace Point Fellowship in Harlingen have also been a big help, not to mention my wife.
There’s nothing in my work that I had to change, especially since these stories have to be reported. It was me that had to change.
I’m glad to say that I’ve made significant progress over the last few years. This past year, 2012, was the best yet. My goal is to be spiritually and physically reborn by the end of 2013. I’ve taken significant steps toward such an endeavor. I’ve lost 90 pounds in less than six months’ time thanks to a strict diet and a rigorous exercise routine. And I’m happy to report that I’ve been much more at peace with my work and how I operate.
I’m getting there.
On a related note, I’d like to thank Chief Richard Williams of the San Benito Veterans Memorial Academy NJROTC. This man is one of many who helped motivate me during my lifestyle change, which is how I’ve been referring to my weight loss efforts. Specifically, he responded to a column I wrote back in October, entitled “Pedaling Past My Biggest Challenge Yet,” with a letter. In the letter, he wrote three words: “Never give up.” I assure you, Chief, I ain’t ever giving up.
Read this story in the Dec. 30 edition of the San Benito News, or subscribe to our E-Edition by clicking here.
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