Students and staff sit in a circle near the entrance to a building at TMU. Many wear keffiyehs

The inevitable dilemma: How do I balance journalism and advocacy?

What does it really mean to be a journalist? 

It’s a question I seem to ask myself on a regular basis, interrogating the very ideals and purposes of the field I have been so passionate about entering since high school. 

It’s hard to come up with a real definite answer. Many of us imagine the dream of being a journalist who takes down bad guys and big corporations with seething reports, while others might see some kind of devil figure who represents the “woke mob,” or whatever. For journalists themselves, a more professional and exact definition, as provided by Reader’s Digest, might revolve around “storytelling with a purpose.”

In the end, the answer usually comes down to some kind of “truth-teller.” The essence of being a reporter is telling stories—and more importantly, telling people’s stories—, breaking news to inform the public and tackling what is factually going on. However, there’s a caveat to what truth means, how people interpret it, and what truths are shared and consumed comfortably. 

For many in the right-wing universe of media hatred and general bigotry, that often means reporting some biased stuff and throwing words like “woke” around. Truth Social, for example, uses the word in this connotation in both its name and its discourse of misinformation and filter bubbles. For many who advocate for progressive causes, truth might have a totally different meaning, and with its own biases or flaws. Elsewhere, there are the true neutrals—those who strive for so-called “objectivity.” 

Tearing down the word objectivity was one of the first things we did in first-year journalism school. I don’t remember if it was a professor, a guest speaker or in a video, but the idea that being truly objective is impossible resonated with me. We discussed that claiming to be completely objective in our reporting is futile because it leads to either both-siding every topic or missing key details—every person has their own biases and in a neoliberal society, we as an industry inevitably turn to accepted “truths” and norms.

Simply put, the media industry is scared of poking the wrong bear. 

Who is that bear? The United States? Israel? Russia? Business people? Lawyers? Criminals? I’m not really sure if I’m honest. Yet it is clear legacy media is not inclined to report on the things that could get them into trouble with those who control their paychecks, their regulations and their very existence. 

That is why reporting on Israel’s genocide on Palestinians, as recognized by United Nations special committees regularly, has so badly missed the mark over the last calendar year, not to mention for decades before that. Alongside misused language and questionable editorial decisions on what and what not to report, firings of journalists have exemplified how the industry does not want its journalists to cross the line into activism, or beyond objectivity for that matter.

Altogether, this makes me question whether my opinions and the ways I want to advocate are feasible in the journalism industry. Even aside from advocacy itself, I am concerned that being the deep-diving, hard-hitting investigative and long-form writer I dream to be will be difficult or eventually impossible because taking on the status quo is seen as an affront.

Palestinian journalists and allies have routinely spoken about how they have had stories and jobs lost and how they feel alienated in a journalism industry that does not seem interested in tackling the genocide the same way they do many other topics. This is one very serious example, but it goes much further.

But tackling heavy topics, uncovering hard truths and questioning authority is exactly what journalism was first created for. 

When I set my mind on wanting to be a journalist, it was in part because of the work of people like Rick Westhead and Katie Strang who cover sports from a critical, investigative approach. That is what I want to do as a journalist, but can I? Is carving out a role questioning the status quo, those in power and even my own industry possible in such a small field?

I think the answer is absolutely yes, as building industry connections, proving oneself in work and valour and being a respectful and respectable communicator with sources can all help carve a space and create trust. 

Nevertheless, I can’t help but fight a feeling that if I say too much, I could get buried. It’s a battle with my own profession, my own industry. But a necessary one.

The question pops up in my brain when I attend protests, especially student walkouts for Palestine. I know it is not possible for me to have no thoughts or feelings while I am there, but do I have to lock that all away as soon as I go to talk to someone? Not to mention when I write? How do I build meaningful relationships with people raising awareness for causes I also see as important then? I like being an observer, but I don’t love feeling like I have to be an all-knowing, objective observer. Because I definitely am not one. 

Students and staff gather around a flag under the bridge to Kerr Hall outside TMU's Jorgenson Hall. Many are wearing keffiyehs
Student and staff protestors gather outside TMU’s Jorgenson Hall at a walkout for Palestine on Oct. 1, 2024

There have been many times that I’ve had a tweet ready to go to say my piece about Palestine or issues in hockey or something ridiculous someone said or wrote, but I leave it in drafts. It could be my anxiety and overthinking brain but there is a part of me that, frankly, doesn’t want to poke the wrong bear. I hate writing that.

I am afraid to try to write beyond what is accessible for someone at this stage of my career. I have had ideas for articles and reflections—hell, even this one—that I have held onto for so long. But I feel horrible for not doing enough of my part to stand up for what I believe in. 

Why am I afraid of doing the very thing journalism is meant to do? And more importantly, why do so many journalists feel that way?

I do not want to be one of those journalists who follows the line to make sure my job is secure. But I also want to make sure getting and keeping jobs in the industry I am so passionate about is possible and that I can help be a part of the change I desire so deeply. 

It’s a really tough balance but one I know I’m going to continue to figure out. Not only do I want to fight off that part of my brain that holds me back in moments of strength and passion, but I also want to show others that I can be an advocate and a journalist and that making a difference is something I take seriously.

I know that journalism has meaning. And I know that I want to do the types of journalism that have the most meaning for people, communities and the world. It might take some time to make that happen, but I plan to only poke the bear more and more from here.