In part one and part two of this series, we featured six remarkable women journalists, from women who built their careers in primarily white-male-dominated newsrooms to women working to establish inclusive newsrooms that center the narratives of marginalized communities excluded from mainstream media. 

In our final installment, three women journalists discuss the importance of owning one’s narrative and identity within a media landscape grappling with the construct of modern journalism — ideas that shape many of the concepts confronting white and non-White journalists including inclusivity, bias and objectivity. An equitable newsroom must be more than a facade of representation; it must address access to position and power with a commitment to decolonizing journalism.

One of the most significant problems in journalism is that there aren't enough non-White journalists in positions of power, affecting editorial decision-making at every level of a story, which often expresses itself as policing of non-White journalists' perspectives and experiences and questions their journalistic prowess and integrity. 

For these three women, telling stories from their own experiences and from where they stand as white and non-White women — to put the events of the world, state and communities into perspective — is an integral part of being a journalist because, in the end, who else can write their stories?

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

A: I started my journalism journey in high school. So, I had the privilege of going to a high school that had a journalism program — not a huge journalism program: We had Journalism One, Two, Three and Four, but it was all one class, so I just took the same class four times. And I grew a really special relationship with my journalism teacher. And this class also produced the school newspaper.

It started with just filling an elective with a writing-related course, but it turned out I was low-key good at it. I also think journalism gave me the opportunity to do something a little bit different. That's really how it started, because all of my friends were athletes or in band, and I was the only writer in my friend group. And so the fact that I was taking journalism classes and writing for the school newspaper — it was cool, and I liked it. But I ended up getting really good at it, and I ended up becoming the editor-in-chief of the school newspaper by my junior year. So, something that started as just a hobby that I was good at turned into something that I could potentially make a career.

When I went to an NYU journalism program in my junior year of high school, I realized this was a career because it wasn't something that was ever a career. The way that I was brought up, I don't think my parents at the time would have thought, "Yes, we're going to send our daughter to college and pay all this money to go to college and be a journalist" — like I didn't think that was something that you could do. 

But I went to this NYU program, it was created for high school students of marginalized communities or students of color. And I grew up in North Jersey, so it was right outside New York City, and it was a one-week or 10-day program. They accepted 20 students from New Jersey, Connecticut and New York — the tri-state area — and it was fully paid for. We got to live in the NYU dorms. We had different seminars, and we got to meet with journalist professors at NYU. We got to tour Instagram, CNN, Viacom. And we were all people of color. 

That's when I started to look around the room, and I was like, "These are not the people I necessarily see on TV. And these are also not the people I necessarily see writing these articles." And I think that opened my eyes: The fact that there were only 20 of us in this room, I think, speaks volumes. And even when we would tour the buildings, you would look around at the staff: It was all white people. And having that privilege to be able to go into those spaces and then realize this is what it's like on the inside — I think that was probably the biggest takeaway for me.

And when I came back for my senior year of high school, I really threw myself into my school newspaper. And at that point, I became the editor of my school yearbook. So, I was doing a lot of editing, production and layout work. And I applied to a bunch of schools. I thought I would end up going to Syracuse University or NYU, which have great journalism programs, but I couldn't afford it. I felt like Temple University had a really great journalism program that gave me a lot of money, so I felt good knowing that I didn't have to go into a tremendous amount of debt to be a journalist, which I thought was necessary.

Q: What challenges have you faced? 

A: The biggest challenge I'm experiencing is maintaining my sense of identity in newsrooms. As a Muslim, it's really difficult, and I think with the coverage of Palestine, that's where it really started for me.

For my generation — I graduated high school in 2020, so I was a COVID class. I was born in 2001, months after 9/11, and I grew up right outside New York City. So, you start with this post 9/11 society, being a Muslim American — and then we had COVID, we had the Trump administration, we had March for Our Lives in 2017, we had Black Lives Matter; there are so many monumental social justice issues that we've seen in our society, and we have been a part of. I was at Black Lives Matter protests. I remember when gay marriage was legalized in 2014. These are all things that I was conscious for. But I always had to separate my home identity from my school and work-life identity because I grew up in a household where when we would talk about 9/11, it was always, "This is something really tragic," but I was always taught, "Well, do you know why 911 happened?" There was always this nuance to the conversation: "This didn't come out of nowhere." And I grew up in a household that hated the Bush administration. So, I was always very knowledgeable on the world around me. And so, Palestinian Liberation was nothing new to me, and the last six months have been a really, really jarring divide in my life. 

When I was in the newsroom, I didn't feel like my local news outlets were representing my community, and I didn't think they were doing adequate coverage. And I felt like I couldn't say what I needed to say because I didn't want it to look like I had this inherent bias. But the truth is, I do; the truth is that it's something very important to me, it's very important to my people, to my community, and it's frustrating. 

There is solace in individual teams when you have a really supportive editor or when you have really supportive journalists that you're working alongside, but those are individual people; they're not institutions. So, where does that leave all these young journalists emerging and coming into the industry, where we're looking at mainstream newsrooms that we idolized? Now, what happens? I'm still trying to figure that out. I talk to mentors and different people, and something a professor of mine that I'm very close to reminded me is that, although I may not be happy with some coverage, and it may be frustrating, you need to push back, and you need to be that person in the newsroom. 

Someone else told me, "There will always be an Al Jazeera. And you can choose to work at Al Jaeezra — and if that's your prerogative, great, but there needs to be journalists like you working at the news outlets that aren't doing the coverage because if you're not that voice in that newsroom — if you're not that voice in that space like 'Hey, maybe we should do this' or 'this isn't right' — then it's never going to be there. They're going to keep doing the same thing that they're doing.”

I think that there needs to be a person on the inside because most people lack news literacy; the outside world lacks news literacy. I will talk to some people, and they'll be talking about things, and I want to kind of cut them off and say, "Okay, well, that's actually not how the newsroom works. Well, this is why these things happen — or whatever." And so, when you are a journalist on the inside, you have more power, I feel, to push back on news editors and institutions because you're already in there. I think that people on the outside who are calling and protesting, yes, it's really important, but we have a job on the inside to do as well.

So, it's not that we shouldn't be working in mainstream newsrooms: We need to take our talent to mainstream newsrooms. We need our talent there because the local community newsrooms — they're so important — but they almost amplify what we already know. We need to be able to go into those mainstream newsrooms and amplify our voices because that's what's hitting the majority of this country. That's what's hitting the majority of our society.

Q: What encourages you to continue this work? 

A: I recently realized the type of beat I want to report on. Initially, I wanted to be a big hotshot political reporter. I was like, "I'm going to move to D.C. I'm going to shake up the hill." And they say journalism is a thankless job, but I'm finding that it's not a thankless job; it depends on who you're writing about, and what you're writing about. And so recently, I have found a love for solutions and community-based journalism.

I recently went to an event — I live in Philadelphia — and there is a historic legacy of Black musicians in Philadelphia and their impacting contributions to Black culture in Philly. And I had gone to a pop-up exhibit for Marian Anderson, a musician from Philadelphia. And they hosted it at this local church in South Philly. There was no press. There was no media coverage. I pitched the story to my editor. I was like, "Great. I'm a student. I need to get this extra credit assignment out of the way. I also have a great pitch that my editor loved. Why not?" And I go there, and not only was it welcoming because it was a church community, and I felt a sense of community there, but people took pictures with me. 

And I had my lanyard. And I don't know if they thought I was some big journalist. I'm like, "I'm just a girl. I'm just an intern." But I didn't want to tell them that. I didn't want to make them think that they didn't matter and my news organization wasn't sending a whole media team to cover this event. But there was such a sense of love. And it's something so small, but it was the fact that everyone was so thankful. The Reverend said, "Well, thank you for being present." And I was taking pictures. And this guy came up to me like, "Oh, how long have you been shooting for?" And then he was giving me tips. And it was just so nice. And I was like, "This is what I want to do." The fact that this made an impact.

What makes me do what I do, what keeps me going is, as corny as it is, you're not just writing for yourself — you're writing for people, and you're writing matters. And when people read what you write, that means something.

I'm working on an article for Central Desi on menstrual hygiene stigmas in the South Asian community. I just had an interview with a girl I don't know very well; I posted this on social media, and we have some mutual friends — and I was really honored that she was willing to help me with this article. Especially people my own age; I feel like they don't read. Most people don't read. They'll watch a TikTok if they want to get some news. And she told me, "Oh my gosh, I really loved the article that you wrote about South Asians voting Republican." And that was one of the first articles I wrote for Central Desi. I was like, "Wait, you read that?" And she was like, "Yeah, I really like a lot of the work that you post on Instagram." And that shocked me — she read my work. I have friends that don't even read my work. And I send the link to them. 

The only people I thought were reading my work were my mom and dad and could actually remember that I wrote this article about a rise in republicanism in the South Asian community. I didn't know people read it. So that also keeps me doing what I'm doing because it matters, and people care.

Q: Why should more women join the field? 

A: I don't want to send that narrative and encourage Muslim women, brown women, Arab women, women of color in general, or women, period, to go into journalism because they need to be that token female journalist or woman of color. But the reality is that women do need to go into journalism because who else is going to write our stories? 

I think there's a sense of comfort that women get from other women. And there's a lot of really sensitive topics that aren't discussed enough, and if there aren't enough female journalists, those stories are just going to continue to be uncovered. And the menstrual hygiene article I'm writing is proof of that. I can't even tell you how difficult it's been for me to get interviews. Maybe with women my own age, but to be able to talk to aunties, to moms, like no one wants to talk to me at all.

One of my good friends called me to let me know — I had asked if I could interview her mother — and she was like, "Hey, I just talked to my mom, and honestly, she really doesn't want to do it. I begged her, and she's just really not comfortable. She feels uncomfortable with other men reading this article," or something along those lines. And it goes to show you that this is still such a stigmatized topic: No matter how comfortable we get on the internet to talk about periods, it's still not comfortable at home.

We're kind of in an echo chamber, where we'll go on social media, and everyone's all kumbaya and very comfortable talking about their body parts, periods and sex, but it's not like that at home. So, I understand completely that her mom is uncomfortable talking to me, but I can't even imagine: If not me, then who? That's my mentality. If not me, then who? And I think that more women who are interested in pursuing writing or journalism should go for it. I don't think that we should limit ourselves.

And I'm going to speak on behalf of my community: There are a lot of girls that I talked to who are really impressed with the fact that I went to school for journalism and really wish they could have done that. They studied pre-med, pre-law or engineering, and they're like, "You know, I didn't get to do what I want to do." And I think it's so discouraging that you go into this life not doing exactly what you want to do and not being able to leave that impact that you want to leave. I think that's going to be a difficult thing to change. Maybe when my generation becomes parents, it'll be different. We'll raise our children differently so they can pursue whatever career they want to pursue.

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

A: Don't get caught up in just writing about what you think you want to write about. 

A lot of young women that I talked to — I'm a mentor for some of the freshmen and sophomores coming into Temple — they get very caught up in social media advocacy and tying that into their journalism, and everything becomes this mosh pit of writing from the heart, which I think is important, but it is really important also to hold a standard of journalistic integrity. And low-key, you're not going to make as much impact as you want to make if you're talking in circles and talking in an echo chamber with whom you're comfortable talking to, and what you believe in, and what you're comfortable with. That was a hard pill to swallow, and I'm really coming to realize it this past year with what's going on in Palestine.

I had the honor of going to New Hampshire in January to cover the New Hampshire primary election. I was able to meet Nikki Haley. I went to a Trump rally, the last place you would think I'd ever go, and when I tell you that changed my life, it changed my life. Being able to interview people there and talk to people, a part of me had this sense of guilt, like, "Oh my gosh, I'm giving these people a platform to talk," but at the same time, we can't silence people. The reality is you can't silence people and it's not your job to silence people. It's not your job to decide who gets the microphone; that is the most difficult pill for me to swallow. Because "Am I a journalist first, or am I an activist first?" And that is the big question. And I think a lot of people are struggling with that. 

But I don't think it's my job to tell people, "Well, you're wrong. What you think is wrong." I want to know why you think that. "Why do you think that? What makes you think that your perspective is right?" I'm curious about that, and I think young journalists need to be more curious. It's not about being curious about what you already know or curious about what's already established. You can hate Donald Trump — that's fine — but go interview people who voted for Donald Trump. Talk to your family members who support Donald Trump. And that was what I did with my article on South Asians voting for Donald Trump and voting Republican. Instead of shutting those people down, sit down, talk to those people, and really understand, why — "Why? What do you see in Donald Trump? What is he going to do for us as a community?" And that's what I think more young journalists need to do.

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

A: I knew I was going to be a television news reporter since I was age 11, and ever since then, I didn't even think of any other career. 

I saw a Black journalist on television who's now long since retired, but I admired her. I said, "Wow, I can do that." Her name was Melba Tolliver. And I just thought that she was fantastic, and so I decided that's exactly what I would do.

I looked around for schools, preferably close, somewhat close to home, where I would be able to pursue my career goal of becoming a television news reporter, and one of the schools that stood out was Syracuse University's Newhouse School. At the time, and still now, but at the time, it had a stellar reputation for those in the business. And so I applied, and I got in, and I went from New York City, where I'm originally from, to Syracuse, New York, to attend Syracuse University.

Q: What challenges have you faced? 

A: In my business, you go around the country to pursue getting better; you go from market to market to market. And that's what I did. But in doing so, you leave behind family and friends, your comfort zone. So, for me to pursue my career, I had to go to a lot of different TV markets alone and live in different cities alone. I lived in Rochester, New York. I lived in Dayton, Ohio. I lived in Charlotte, North Carolina. And those are places where you go, and you know no one, but when I left, I left behind some dear friends whom I speak to, to this day. 

In the final analysis, looking at it, it has gained me some valuable people whom I call my sisters because they're such good girlfriends, and it was such a support group when I lived in those cities, and I will keep them forever. My personality is one where if you're my friend, you're a friend for life. I collect people, and I never let them go. 

And there's definitely been challenges as a Black woman. I remember working at a place for years and not getting the opportunity I deserved. I worked at FiOs1 for a number of years and never got the opportunity that I deserved while working there. And the only thing I can contribute that to is race and racism by the people who ran the station. So there's no question that any opportunities that I had I earned, no question, but I got very few breaks. So everything was definitely through extremely hard work. 

You see more Black reporters and Black women in management, but there could be more. The numbers could be more equitable. But it's better than before, and as a result, you don't find yourself constantly pushing for stories of interest to the African American community. In the beginning, I found myself the lone voice, constantly pushing for stories that would be of interest to the Black community. And now you don't have to do that as much — it still needs to be done — I think there's a higher level of consciousness in newsrooms that those stories have to be told from a perspective that would be of interest to all in the community,

It's not the desert it once was, but the number of people of color in management positions can increase because those are the positions that are the power positions, the decision-making positions. I think people watching the news go, "Oh, there's diversity," because you see a lot of Black reporters and anchors and sports anchors, but you have to pull the curtain and see who is at the assignment desk: the assignment manager, very important position; producers, very important; assistant news directors and news directors — because usually the news directors and the general managers, if we're talking television — those are the people making those hiring decisions.

We should have more inclusion and more equity and more diversity. I think when it comes to putting out the word and getting information out, there's nothing better than a journalist to do it: Black, white, Asian, Hispanic. So the role of journalism right now, I believe, is more important than ever. 

Q: What encourages you to continue this work? 

A: I'm a storyteller, and I continue because I love telling stories. 

At one point, I was similar to a bureau chief in New Jersey for WPIX Television, New York, which is my hometown. And I covered the entire state of New Jersey, probably for about six years, maybe more, because I worked at WPIX for about 11 years. But I met a lot of people, I did a lot of stories, and I wouldn't give it up for the world. In fact, right now, I'm still storytelling. For the first time I'm working in radio, I've never done radio before. This is a change for me. I have a podcast called Black Land, which is getting a lot of buzz lately. It's a podcast about people, where they stand, and their joys and sorrows as they live in America. And I'm the senior anchor at the Black Information Network, which is a 24-hour, seven-day-a-week news network very similar to 10/10 WINS, where it's all news, all the time. And we report on stories of interest to anyone, but especially of interest to those in the African American or Black diaspora.

The whole thing with getting out a voice and getting out a story, I feel as if it's more than a job: It's more like a calling. Because you really have to be able to get voices and concerns out there. And at this point, journalism has changed so much that I can't even believe it. Now, basically, you just want to get out the truth, let alone someone's story. Before, you were just like, "Oh, let's tell your story," and now you just want to get out the truth because there's so much misinformation, and there's really nobody correcting it, and people are confused. People are being lied to. And as a result, the ramifications of that are astounding. We can lose our democracy, and people are being hurt. This is really serious business. So now my job becomes more important than ever. Before, it was like telling a story, "Did you hear that?" — more water cooler — now, it's literally to save lives, I believe.

Journalism is still a very noble profession. And one of which I'm very proud to be a part of for decades. I've won awards. I've won an Emmy and had multiple Emmy nominations, and that's great, but the biggest award for me is when I see someone that I've done a story on, and they remember the story, and they tell me about it. 

I remember I had a segment when I was an anchor in Dayton, Ohio. It was called Wednesday's Child, I believe. And basically, you highlight a child who was up for adoption. And I did a little boy — I had done many of those — but I was at a convention years later, and this little boy, who was now a young man, came up to me and reminded me of who he was, what his name was, and said, "You did a piece on me, and I met my parents through that. They saw the piece, and they adopted me." He said, "My life was changed — I had a beautiful life, beautiful parents. I never thought I would see you again, and I just wanted to say thank you." So those are the kinds of stories where the impact of what we do is vital. This is why I keep doing the work. Every day, I'm doing stories, and hopefully, I'll have another story like that.

Q: Why should more women join the field? 

A: It's vital. It's vital for more women and women of color to join the journalism field. I recently wrote a children's book, Dog Gone Human: The Breaking News Story You Have to See to Believe, and it's about a precocious 11-year-old who goes around in her hometown — her name is Newsy Nessa, so it's semi-autobiographical — and she goes around in her hometown telling stories. And she comes upon a news story in her hometown that no one would ever believe. It was just that fantastic, but she knew her truth and she told the story. And that's something that I want young people, especially anyone interested in journalism, to know that you have to tell the truth. You have to tell the story, and it's your voice that's important. 

Knowing your own truth. When you tell a story, of course, there is no slant — journalists are supposed to be totally objective, which is a good goal to reach — but everybody has a perspective. And my perspective, very well, is different than a white male's perspective or even a white female's perspective. So everyone has the right to tell the story from their own experiences and from where they stand. The story may be the same story, but it's just having that lens on which to tell the story that's vital today. It's putting what's going on into perspective. So yes, I encourage — highly encourage — young people and Black females to get into the business and to learn the skill, to learn to be a good writer, to learn to be a good storyteller, a good listener, and to make sure their facts are solid-right. And I think it would make the world better. You talk about change the world, that will change the world.

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

A: I would say do it. I would say find a good journalism school. I would say get the basics in. For television, especially, learn how to be a compelling writer, learn how to listen in and get the story. And I also would say if this is something you want to pursue on a national level, and in terms of covering international news, that's admirable; that's tough work, especially for women. But there are stories out there of women around the world who need a voice. And you can be that voice for them; you can at least tell what they're going through, and maybe it would help. But there are a lot of people suffering worldwide globally, especially women.

I was just doing a story the other day where they do very painful operations on women's sex organs in certain parts of the world, and it's a show of power and control over women. And at one point in one country, they had outlawed it, and now they're talking about bringing it back. Here, we have men on the council or in Parliament discussing bringing this painful procedure back, which is a little bit in religious culture as well. And then, of course, we know about the whole issue with abortion in our country. So, this is important: To have a woman's voice, and it's important to have a Black woman's voice, always there, speaking out, always with a seat at the table.

Somebody has to tell the story. One of the stories I received an Emmy for had to do with a mother who took her son around the country; he had taken heroin for the first time and had this terrible overdose and lost oxygen to his brain. And he was like an infant again. And she took them around the country, almost like a scared straight type of thing to other people. But I told her story. And it reverberated for so many people that I won an award, but the award goes to this mother who decided to take her son around to show, and most people would use that pain and try to heal within themselves. But it was, in a way, healing for her to go out and do this.

There are so many stories of encouragement; there are so many stories that can enlighten other people. And someone has to tell it, and that's the journalists. So we need the voices. And it is a shame that a lot of these newspapers are just a shell of themselves. But reliable, honest journalists who actually research a story — I don't think our society or democracy can exist without them. 

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

A: I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to do in high school — and who does at the age of 18 or 17 — and I was contemplating doing something with music because I love music versus doing something with writing. I always really liked when we had different writing assignments, not so much essays but stories. And then what solidified it for me was working a little bit for the school paper. Then I got a really good score on the writing portion of the SAT, and I'm just like, "Alright, that's what I'm going to do." 

I got into Syracuse University, but I didn't get into Newhouse School. But I was able to do communications and get some work doing articles for the Daily Orange, a student newspaper there. And from there, during the summer, I wrote for New Jersey Hills Media. After that, I did a little bit of sports writing, which is still my goal. I'm a huge sports fan. I've been a huge sports fan, probably since I was born. I'm like the son my dad never had. 

But I was doing that part-time, and I reached out again to Mike Condon, one of the editors here, and I was like, "Hey, do you have any openings?" And he's like, "As a matter of fact, we do," and he put me in contact with Phil Nardone, one of the company's head editors. And then we sat down, and a month or a few weeks later, I got a full-time job as a staff writer for the Echoes-Sentinel, which covers Long Hill, Watchung and Warren in New Jersey.

Q: What challenges have you faced? 

A: One of the first challenges was finding full-time work because there wasn't really much out there — I wanted to do more print. And there were opportunities, but they weren't that forthcoming — that was the first challenge. 

It came back to networking with people I knew, and I should have known that would be the way to do it. It boiled down to "Who did I know?" I had already established a relationship with New Jersey Hills Media, so I should have reached out. 

I was more focused on sports journalism. I applied to a bunch of positions, and I'd get "We received your application," and then didn't hear anything back, And I was like, "You know what, let's just go back to where they know who I am, in a way."

More recently, the challenge has been trying to cover the six towns I do for The Progress. And it's just me right now. I used to have a staff writer, but she left, so it's just me right now. And I'm able to do it, but at the same time, I don't get to go everywhere. And, of course, I'm getting calls like, "Why didn't you cover this?" And I'm just like, "Because it's just me," and I feel awful.

Q: What encourages you to continue this work?

A: I think journalism, especially local journalism, is really rewarding because you're ingrained in these communities, and there are real issues that are going on that are local, and you can apply them to a bunch of different towns, especially in New Jersey. There are towns that are obviously different, but they all have similar issues, like affordable housing and other issues like stormwater. So, it's really rewarding to be in that and get to know more about how these governments function, too, because it's interesting. There are some boring parts — but it's interesting.

 Q: Why should more women join the field? 

A: Because the more diversity we have in voices, the better, in anything — that goes for any profession. And we're just as good and sometimes better than the men.

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

A: I would say go for it because I have thoroughly enjoyed what I've done from start to finish. I would definitely say do it. Pay attention to time management. I'm also still struggling with that a little bit. And know your worth — that's the biggest thing that I've learned more recently: I know that I'm a good writer, and you are your biggest advocate in anything.

I dealt with my first bout of impostor syndrome a couple of years ago when I was just like, "Am I good at what I'm doing? Am I doing things right?" It was just the weirdest thing because I'd never felt that before. But then there were a lot of people when I came on — when I was promoted to editor of The Progress last January — people were calling in like, "The paper is great." "It's better than what it was before." And I'm just like, "What? Thank you." It just made me feel so good and like report that I'm doing the right thing.