As young journalists, our painted future is often bleak. The money is lame, the hours are nearly illegal, and the respect is non-existent. So, you might ask, "What would possess someone like you to enter a dead-end career?"
Almost three months ago, I got a phone call very early one morning from a Boston television station. The sputtering voice hurriedly asked me if I had a few minutes to talk about Jill Carroll.
Now, I heard of the legends of the Jill Carroll and Casey Kane days down at the Collegian, but I had no idea what this had to do with me. I wiped the sleep out of my eyes only to hear the clearly-unprofessional journalist say "Oh, you didn't hear? Jill was kidnapped in Iraq."
As the next few weeks progressed, I found myself drawn into this increasingly-haunting story. The world was up in arms about this young girl, this UMass graduate, this Collegian alumna, that was snatched away while reporting in Iraq.
Some of the current Collegian crew read through some of Jill's college articles one night, trying to pick through our close connection to our stolen sister. We pointed out some of Jill's work and talked about her guts as a reporter.
She covered the Student Government Association as a beat, which is not the most popular group to cover, but Jill did so with careful precision. She chased leads, worked issues, and though sometimes she caused controversy, she told the true story.
I remember that night going home for the first time and feeling that punch to the gut. It was in my office that Jill wrote these passionate stories just years ago. "How could she end up in this situation so quickly?"
The next obvious thought that comes to mind is: "This could be me in a few years."
It was then that the fire began to burn. I felt a natural anger. Where was the University's voice in the international cause for Jill's release? Why should we hold our breath and wait for a major effort from the administration? Instead, the young journalists, who people like Jill paved the way for, decided to do our part.
The rally was emotional. Not for a moment did we think that we would have a true affect on Jill's release, but we knew that we could have a chance to keep her in people's hearts and minds. For a day we tried to get a hold of every media outlet we could. We talked and talked at length about every inspiring detail of Jill's story. I hope, if not then, that now Jill feels our support for her.
As I revisited the timeline of Jill's career to this point, I could see that she never lost touch with her amazing ability to tell the story. Karen List, the journalism department head at UMass, told me that, from the first day of class, Jill aspired to become a foreign correspondent. She got it.
As I said, journalism often lacks in the perks department. However, if there is one thing Jill Carroll has re-taught me, it is that journalists have the power to trigger change. A journalist is given the forum to educate and inform the public.
In Iraq, Jill did exactly this. Whether it was her stories that gave voices to the Sunni voters, or her accounts of a Thanksgiving dinner with marines stationed in Iraq, Jill's stories have made their way into our hearts.
Yesterday, I was a sick editor. I was up until the early morning, not feeling well at all. Just after 5 a.m., my cell phone rang. I answered only to hear my father on the other end.
"I just heard on the radio that Jill Carroll was released today," he said.
Every ounce of sickness drained from my body, and the greatest form of adrenaline kicked in. It's a time for celebration. We are ready for Jill's return - and not a second too early.
So this is my formal invitation. Jill, if and when you read this, I owe you a beer during your next visit to Amherst. You have reminded of what I love about all of this. You gave me that extra push to graduation. I hope you can understand how much you and your story meant to all of us youngsters at the Collegian.
Thank you. And welcome home.
Michael Busack is the Editor-in-Chief of the Massachusetts Daily Collegian.
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