A Catalyst Called Jordan – A Profile

This is my final assignment for my reporting and writing class.

As I look back at the last month and a half of work, I can honestly say that I have developed a genuine appreciation of the work journalists do. I had to shift through two hours of recordings, an entire notebook full of observations and rough drafts and, lastly, find a way to compress everything into approximately 1000 words. This, of course, had to be done amid the scramble of other projects, classes, tutorials and a personal life. It really was a challenge.

Many people assume that writing is easy, but I think I now understand why Ernest Hemmingway meant when he said “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” My work is nothing compared to Hemmingway’s lifetime of work, but I do – in part, at least – understand the slavery involved in crafting even this minor project.

Nevertheless, as I reminisce, I feel like I have accomplished something. The stress has dissipated and the words that swirled relentlessly around my skull for weeks have finally quietened. I look at my work now with both the love and hatred of a mother. It has taken so much from me, and yet, I love it because it is mine.

It was an honour to work with my old Chemistry teacher – Miss Jordan – on this project and I thank her so much for opening her life to me. I learned a lot about her over these few weeks, and in turn, I have discovered a few things about myself.

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