The Journalist.

It was a new school year and I was in the 11th grade. I like to write poems and stories. My parents don’t want me to write they want me to get a “real career.” I don’t know why they always turn me down and say they hate it. Every time I get my writing published in the school newspaper they don’t even notice.

My friend Kate always says, “Never give up on your dream no matter what your parents say.”

I wish I could agree but my parents want me to follow in their footsteps. They want me to be an agent in real estate. I hate real estate, but the advantage is you get a lot of benefits and you get paid well. I know writes get paid to so I am sticking to my dream to be a journalist. I love writing for the school newspaper, it is really fun. I always get noticed for what I write and everyone enjoys it. Last year in 10th grade I sent in a poem to the New York Times newspaper and they published it. Everybody congratulated me except my parents. My parents were furious because I sent it in when they said I couldn’t.

So I was grounded for winning. I didn’t get it. They just don’t want me to write for some odd reason that I didn’t get. I forgot all about that day. Now I am just living in the moment and doing what I love to do most. One day in the newspaper room in the school this new guy walked in and he asked if he could join. I was the editor so he had to come to me. He was cute. He came and asked if he could be part of the paper so I asked him some questions. I asked, “Do you have any experience with writing?”

“Yeah. I like to write all the time.” He replied

“What is your name?”

“Its Larry.”

“Welcome to the paper Larry.” When I hired him onto the newspaper staff I was excited. He was practically the only boy on the team. At school he always asked me if he could sit with me at lunch. I said it was ok. I told him about how my parents discourage me writing and join the after school real estate club. I tell him everyday that I want to start my own paper or become a journalist.

In the middle of the school year someone came down to the school to see me. I didn’t know who it was. When the called me down to the office, I was nervous. I thought I was in trouble. When I saw who it was I freaked out. She said, “Hi I am Michelle. I am a journalist and I saw your article a couple weeks ago.”

“You did?” I asked in confusion.

“Yes and I thought it was excellent. I want you to be my junior journalist. I think you have potential kid.”

I was standing there with my mouth wide open in astonishment.

“So what do you say? Would you like to be my junior journalist?”

“I always wanted to be a journalist since I was little. I would love to be a junior journalist.”

“Oh did I tell you that if you’re a JJ (junior journalist) you will get paid for everything that is posted.”

“That is so cool. When does it start?”

“It is on every Wednesday starting next week. So just have your parents drop you off at this address I am giving you.”

“That is going to be a problem.”

“Why is that?”

“Well my parents forbid me to write. I am barely sneaking it through the school newspaper. I was grounded when I sent in that poem to the New York Times. I even won and had it posted in the newspaper.”

“Why do they do that? I will pick you up after school then on Wednesdays then.”

“I don’t know why. They just want me to follow in their footsteps. Are you sure that won’t be a problem for you?”

“No. Well I better let you get back to class. See you next Wednesday.”

When she left I was ecstatic. I couldn’t believe I have an opportunity to live out my dream. Now I just have to figure out an excuse to tell my parents what I am going to do on Wednesday. When I arrived home I went to my room to think up a plan. Then it came to me. I called Josh. Josh was the leader of the real estate club. I told him to tell my mother that every Wednesday they will stay after school to do more real estate stuff. Also to tell them I joined the club. Josh owed me a favor anyway. When Next Wednesday came I was excited to start my first day as a JJ. When I arrived at the office it smelled like fresh pizza and it was warm from all the printers printing overtime. It felt as a big wave pushing me.

Michelle showed me around the office and she gave me a desk so I could work.

She said I can write poems, stories, reviews etc. I was really excited to start work. When we were done with the tour she walked me back to my desk and I started typing. When I finished my story I printed it and handed it over to Michelle. She loved it and she said it will be in the next issue of her paper. I was happy but I knew my parents wouldn’t be.

Around 6pm Michelle drove me home. My parents didn’t even notice. I walked in and sat down at the table. My mom looked at me and said, “Where have you been young lady?”

“I was at the real estate club. Didn’t Josh call you?” I replied.

“No he didn’t. I don’t believe you. You hate real estate. Now tell me where you were?” mom said getting angrier. “Ok. I was at the Journalist time’s paper. A week ago Michelle the editor of the paper loved my writing and she gave me a job as a junior journalist.”

“I told you no more writing! Why don’t you listen?”

“Do you know why I don’t listen? I want to do my own thing not like you want me to do! Why won’t you let me write?” I yelled. “Don’t use that tone with me!”

“I will use whatever tone I want! Now listen to me mother! I am continuing to write no matter what you say! I really love it. I can express whatever emotion I feel into it. Why won’t you let me write? You can’t control me forever. I am 17. Next year I am leaving here and get my own house and start my career as a journalist.”

“I didn’t know you felt this way about it. Why didn’t you say this before?”

“I did tell you this before but you never listened. Now you better let me write or you will lose me forever!”

“I am sorry. Actually we are both sorry. We should have let you do whatever career you wanted. We shouldn’t have told you not to write. I know it was wrong because my mother said I couldn’t be a real estate agent but I did it anyway. Now look at me I am like my mother telling you what you can and can’t do.”

“That was all I wanted. I love you mom but I don’t want you to choose my future for me.” When I finished the school year I joined the JJ program everyday of the week in the summer and my mom was happy for me. After my senior year I went to college and continued my JJ program until I got my degree then I was finally promoted to Journalist.

Now I was living my dream as “The Journalist.”