Window Seat

I've never been a huge Erykah Badu fan. While I do like a few of her songs and I consider myself pretty liberal and free-thinking, her music and views have always been a little bit much for me. She is one of the artists that I've thought try too hard to be "artistic." So when I heard about the controversy surrounding her public nudity in the "Window Seat" video, I assumed I'd probably think it was too much and typical of her over-the-top style.

After watching the video, however, I found myself thinking...a lot. The wheels in the sociological part of my brain that were set in motion in college after taking some sociology classes starting spinning overtime.

Here's the run-down on the video: Badu is walking down the street in Dallas, the same street where President Kennedy was assassinated. As she walks, she slowly takes off her clothing, one item at a time, until she is completely naked. As soon as all of her clothes are off, she is "shot" right near the spot where Kennedy was assassinated. You then hear a voice over of Badu saying:

"They who play it safe, are quick to assassinate what they don't understand. They move in packs, ingesting more and more fear with every act of hate on one another. They feel more comfortable in groups, less guilt to swallow. They are us. This is what we have become, afraid to respect the individual."

I'm glad that I did watch the video, because it's really gotten me critically thinking. I think she brings up two controversial issues that are rarely truly addressed: 1, the human body, nudity and sexuality, and 2, our society of conformity. I could go on and on, but my main thoughts are these: Badu was inappropriate. In the world we live in, public nudity, especially in the presence of children, is inappropriate. But the question is: why? Why is nudity inappropriate in our society? Who determines and how is it determined what is acceptable and what is appropriate and how can this be changed or challenged?

I think these questions being raised must have been a big part of why she did the video in the first place. The not-so-subtle word scrawled on her back "Evolving" brings up yet another question: are we evolving as a culture and as a society? Will we, and can we, ever evolve past a society of conformity, where expensive things, skinny bodies and celebrities are what we aim for? Will the left-wingers among us ever succeed in achieving change and moving us forward, or are we actually doomed to continue moving backward?

I think Badu definitely achieved her goal, because–as is apparent by the possible laws, lawsuits, and internet buzz–I know that I am certainly not the only one she got talking and thinking...

Phenomenal Women

I don't know if it's because I've found myself in a work environment full of strong women, or because I know that I am growing into the woman I want to be myself, but in the past year I have become fascinated by the stories of successful, powerful women. There is just something about estrogen paired with a success story that truly inspires me. Whether it's reading through a biography in the library or in magazine articles, there are certain women whose stories have just captured my attention and shown me that there is no one path to success, and no obstacle is insurmountable. In addition to the women in my personal life, like my mother and my grandmothers, here are some of the women who I find inspirational, fascinating, and, well...phenomenal.

MICHELLE BACHELET

The first woman president of Chile, Bachelet is an amazing example of the power of a woman. Overcoming the adversity of losing her father to the regime of Augusto Pinochet and experiencing personally the torture and brutality of his reign, Bachelet went on to become a successful doctor before becoming the first ever female Defense Minister of Chile, followed by President.

She was a passionate leader of a country that needed that passion, with a large focus on the health problems plaguing her nation. I find her story inspirational not only because she was the first woman to hold such a post, but because of the challenges she didn't let get in her way of changing the world.



MAYA ANGELOU

I'm a writer, and so it's probably no surprise that Maya Angelou has inspired me. Beyond her poise and wisdom, it is purely her way with words that moves me.

From "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings" to the poem "Still I Rise," I have never encountered a piece of her work that didn't make me want to close my eyes and envision, dream, and think.






DIANE SAWYER

While I was a fan of Sawyer on Good Morning America, it was always her interviews and work on Primetime and 20/20 that fascinated me most. As a budding journalist, I loved to watch her intensely interview everyone from Fidel Castro to President Bush.

When I watch her interviews, it is something about her fearless traveling and inquisitive and firm line of questioning that makes me sure I picked the right profession.


GLORIA ESTEFAN

Apart from the fact that Estefan, along with her husband Emilio and the rest of the Miami Sound Machine, can be credited with making Latin music and sounds mainstream in American culture, Estefan's life story is motivating.

An immigrant who was forced to migrate as a young girl with her mother from Cuba to Miami in the early years of Castro's dictatorship, Estefan went on to be an award-winning singer and performer with the Miami Sound Machine. Along the way, however, she faced incredible hardship again. After a serious bus accident, she was critically injured and told she might never walk again. How could I not find inspiration in the fact that ten months later, she was not only walking again, but back on tour and went on to sell millions of hit records?

Post-racial? No Thanks, I'll Take the Melting Pot, Please

A young President Obama with his white grandfather.

Most people who know me know that when the issue of racial identity comes up, I can go on for days. So it's no surprise that the headline of a front page article in today's USA Today caught my interest.

"Multiracial no longer boxed in by the Census."

The article talked about how the upcoming Census is likely to reveal more people than ever listing themselves as multiracial, because of a rise in mixed race marriages and a new generation of people who may now choose to identify as multiracial. All of this seemed to lead to the point that the U.S. is getting closer to becoming a "post-racial" society, and the article ended with a quote from a biracial person who said she thinks that eventually, races will continue mixing and we will all end up as one color anyway. Overall, the article had a very hopeful note for a possible post-racial society where all races will mix happily because more people are identifying themselves as multiracial.

One might assume that, because I am biracial myself and don't hesitate to let people know it, I would feel that way, too: hopeful that one day, we will all mix together happily as one American culture, leaving notions of individual races and ethnicity behind. But that's not actually the case–I don't hope for this at all. Honestly, I think that having a society where people can belong to and identify with different ethnic and racial groups is a good thing. Culture, and cultural pride, is so amazing to me–I can't imagine not having the culture and history that I was raised in and learned about growing up.

Is There Hope Not Just for Haiti, But the World?

As I sit here watching the Hope For Haiti telethon, I'm hit with the same emotions I was when I first heard about the earthquake. I was at work when I received a text alert about the earthquake from CNN, and for the rest of the day and night I was glued to my computer and CNN.com, checking back for the latest updates, watching videos and looking at pictures of the devastation.

But ever since–and I don't consider myself particularly political, but I am a thinker and a "wonderer"–there's a thought that keeps creeping into my mind. I see all of these celebrities, read about all of these big donations, hear about my friends and even myself donating money to help...and I can't help but wonder, where is all of this generosity, these funds, this compassion, during any other time? Does it take a devastating natural disaster to open our eyes to people in need? What about the millions of people in the world who are dehydrated, starving, homeless, and orphaned every day?

Love, Marriage and...Cancelled Subscriptions?

With the creation of sites like Blogspot and Tumblr, any and everybody can create a blog and call themselves a blogger. As someone who used to blog daily on other sites, instead of wanting a "blogger" label, I created this particular blog as a way to display some of my writing from time to time, and chose to write when I felt like something truly struck me.

And something has. My jaw literally dropped when reading about the latest controversy surrounding Essence Magazine's February cover featuring New Orleans Saints player Reggie Bush. The issue, which was celebrating black love and black men, displayed an eye-candy photo of Bush with an open shirt, with a coverline reading "Live Your Fantasy." Bush is a black man, who happens to be in a relationship with an Armenian woman, the notorious Kim Kardashian (of infamous sex-tape, reality TV and celebrity socialite fame).

So why is my jaw dropping, you ask? It wasn't, until I read the comments on the website from hundreds of Essence readers who are outraged at the fact that this magazine, aimed toward a black, female audience, featured a black man who isn't in a relationship with a black woman, on the cover of an issue about black love. So outraged, in fact, that they are canceling their subscriptions–some who have even been subscribers for years.

Um, what?

A Love Affair

It's been awhile since I've posted. And it could be because I've been getting used to the internship, transitioning from post-college life...but I have to admit, it's mostly because I've been caught up in a twisted, all-encompassing love affair.

With New York City.

Making the move to New York: the city of big dreams, big lights, big names, big prices. It's so easy to fall in love with the way the lights sparkle at night, the way each neighborhood can feel like a whole different world, the constant soundtrack of people living their lives, the smell of roasting nuts on the sidewalk and the unquestionable sophistication and glamor.

But then there's the other side. The smell of sewage, always looking over your shoulder, the train traffic, pushing through rude people too busy talking on their cell phones to care if they stepped on your foot, and the constant sight of the homeless that always seems to make you reach for your wallet.

But regardless, I can't help but love this city. No matter how small the apartment or how high the rent or how much more depressing the unemployment rate seems here. The city has left its mark on me, and I can feel that I was truly meant to be here. I know this is really the city that dreams are made of...my dreams, anyway.

photo courtesy of Getty Images.

The Next Chapter...Gratitude

Life is...full of surprises.

Sometimes, it's easy to be ungrateful. When things don't go my way, when life doesn't go as planned, when I have expectations that aren't met, I get easily disappointed. I tend to focus on the negative. But, with the direction my life has gone in the past few weeks, I'm learning how to change that tendency and focus on the positive and be grateful for what I do have.

In a perfect world, after graduation, I would have gotten offered a full-time job, Bachelor's degree in hand and a full-time salary with benefits in the pocket. But instead, it's September and I've just begun my second post-graduate internship. A few weeks ago, the idea of interning yet again was daunting.

But now I'm an intern at O, The Oprah Magazine. An incomparable experience. I'm surrounded by so many inspiring and influential women who are in places I want to be one day. I'm at a publication that is read by millions and is actually influential -- contrary to many women's publications out there, this is a magazine with substance that is well-rounded. And yes, it might not be a job, but I've decided that I want to take this experience and make the most of it, taking from it whatever I can. And in this job market, I've realized that I should truly consider myself blessed.

I have a great career opportunity ahead of me, I live in an amazing apartment, and at the end of the day, although I might struggle a bit, and I might have down days, I know that I have the support of genuine friends and family. And that is something to truly be grateful for.

So this is the next chapter of my life -- the post-grad, maturing, growing up phase. Fresh out of my alma mater, moved into my first New York apartment, bright-eyed and discovering this city, this industry, and myself.

Life is, simply...good.

Vogue Italia: The Black (Barbie) Issue

Last year, Vogue Italia issues flew off the stands and the magazine gained national acclaim with their Black Issue, an issue dedicated to the black model, a fixture in the fashion world that is frequently neglected.

This summer, Vogue Italia is doing the Black Issue again, only with a slightly different twist: Black Barbie.

Bloggers and cynicals have been quick to criticize Vogue, claiming that they are just trying to milk the success that they had with last summer's Black issue, that they would have rather seen actual people instead of Barbie dolls, and that there shouldn't be a need for a "black issue" because black models should be included in every issue. But, the fact of the matter is black models AREN'T included in every issue, and in actuality, I think that since Vogue Italia's black issue last summer, black models have definitely been featured a lot more -- Chanel Iman is a centerfold regular these days. Regarldess, having a black issue in the first place brings light to the fact that we shouldn't need a black issue at all.

And yes, it would be nice to see actual models, but pairing it with the 50th anniversary of Barbie is brilliant and timely. A lot of people look at Barbie dolls as the frivolous plaything of young girls -- that what G.I. Joes and Matchbox Cars are to boys, Barbie is to girls. But I learned a lot about the history of Barbie and race relations across the world while working on this story, and I think recognizing Barbie in the world's most famous fashion magazine (not just Vogue, but Vogue Italia) will open people's eyes to the role that Barbie has played not only in the world of feminity and fashion (Barbie-themed show at fashion week, anyone?) but also, race. Moving past the original Barbie mold and giving multicultural girls around the world something to play with and relate to beyond the original fair-skinned, light-haired Barbie was a pivotal move by Mattel that was surrounded by controversy.

Anyway, regardless of opinion, I think the spread is creative and something fresh in the world of fashion magazines and one for the books for Vogue Italia. Here's a look at some of my favorites from the issue:

Travel Diaries: La Isla del encanto

Palm trees. Expensive cars. Slick new highways that cruise along the water. Tall, commercial hotel buildings looming over boardwalks and beaches. 

 

No, this isn't South Florida. This is Puerto Rico. 

 

Though the resemblance is uncanny, this is not Miami Beach, but perhaps a distant relative of the South Florida city.  This is the island of my ancestry, the island where my mother's family comes from. This is "la isla del encanto," or "the island of enchantment." This is the island of the oxymoron; of rainforests, Spanish language, homemade foods and a deep love for culture juxtaposed with commercialized roadways, non-Spanish speaking citizens, cruise ship shoppers, Burger Kings and a deep desire to be a part of the country that rules it.

 

This is Puerto Rico, the U.S.'s exotic stepdaughter. 

During the week I was in Puerto Rico as part of the National Association of Hispanic Journalists conference, apart from the work I did as a part of the Student Projects there, I got to observe the island. I was truly looking forward to exploring the island and its culture, seeing as it is a part of my heritage and a place I haven't visited since I was younger.

 

Just as I had remembered and imagined, the isla is vibrant, full of culture, bright colors and some of my favorite dishes like tostones, bistec encebollado and mafongo. Outside of San Juan, towns like Piñones and Bayamón still hold on to their own Puerto Rican charm. Merengue, salsa and reggaeton can be heard blasting out of windows and cars all over the island.

 

But in San Juan and Viejo San Juan, the city's capital and the old downtown district, the charm is mixed with that same South Florida commercialism, a mix that mirrors the citizens of the island's mixed feelings about the territorial status of their island.

 

Puerto Rican natives fight the U.S.'s wars. They pay Social Security and welfare and abide by the U.S.'s rules. Yet they don't vote in the U.S.'s elections and are often viewed by U.S. residents as foreigners, although they are citizens. And this hypocrisy is apparent in many of the people.

 

While doing an interview for a story I was working on about the genre of reggaeton music, a source interrupted me mid sentence and completely changed the subject.

 

"Is Obama going to make us a state like he promised?" the source asked in English, although the conversation had previously been in Spanish. A grown man, his eyes twinkled with the hopefulness of a child asking their mother to go to the toy store.

 

His girlfriend shook her head before I could respond, switching the conversation back to Spanish.

 

"No necesitamos los Estados Unidos" -- "We don't need the United States," she said bitterly, spitting the words "Estados Unidos". She continued on in Spanish. "If we become a state, we will lose everything that's important to us, and we'll become like like all those other states with no idea of what culture really means."

 

This brief conversation represents the split feelings of the island, which come to a head in its capital city filled with both pride and doubt. The same confusion and painful divide undoubtedly shared by many of the U.S.'s territories stuck in the limbo between Independence and statehood.  

Death of a King

The death of the King of Pop has sent the world into a whirlwind of mourning, celebration, sadness and reflection.

But aside from all of this, there are many out there who are exploiting Michael Jackson's death, just as they did his life when he was alive. Only now that he is no longer alive, they can do it more freely.

The man has barely been dead for four days and there are already talks of DVDs being released of his final concert rehearsal, the auctioning of his personal belongings and the publishing rights of unreleased songs he had made for his children.

One can argue that this is the price to pay of a celebrity. That once you are a celebrity, especially one of Michael Jackson's stature, privacy and the right to live and die in peace is no longer an option. And one can argue, there's not really a rule or a timeline for when it is acceptable to move on from tragedy, to move past the shock and the grief and resume every day life.

But I beg to differ. I've always disagreed with this kind of exploitation. It just doesn't sit well with me that a movie was released before the tears had dried of those who still hadn't come to terms with the events of 9/11, or that a major motion picture was released of a slain rapper whose murderer is still unknown, and now, that there is talk of how to make the most profit from a dead man's musical genius who hasn't even been properly laid to rest yet. In my opinion, it's disgusting and tragic, and an unfortunate reflection of our society.

----
Regardless, Michael Jackson holds a special place in my heart. His music was the soundtrack to my childhood, albums played nonstop in long car rides with my family. Dangerous was the first cassette tape I owned on my Playschool Walkman. I know there are millions out there who share my sentiments, who share their own memories of Michael and his music and who are shaking their heads at his tragic downfall. But from my little place in the world, I just want to put it out into the universe and say Rest in Peace, MJ. You will never be forgotten.

1958-2009

"Do you remember, back in the spring, every morning the birds would sing...do you remember, those special times, they just go on and on in the back of my mind..." - Do You Remember the Time

Travel Diaries: Keeping Austin Weird

Travel Diaries, Chapter One: Keeping Austin...Weird.

This summer began after bidding Adieu to State College and heading home for a week before making the big move to New York City. But in between home and the NYC move, I had to go to training for my summer internship at the University of Texas at Austin. Austin was, without a doubt, one of the most interesting cities I have visited. The word interesting is used with caution, here, because interesting could be taken in many ways.

To clarify: Austin's slogan is Keep Austin Weird. Yes, they take great pride in keeping the city weird. From the tie-dyed t-shirts boasting the slogan to rainbow-colored hair, undiscernable yet oddly artistic wall murals and tattoo sleeves on not just the majority of the men but the women as well, I believe weird is the perfect adjective for this city.

Prelude to the Travel Diaries

Summer thus far has consisted of traveling, traveling and more traveling. Between moving from college, going to Texas for my internship training, moving to New York for my internship and attending the National Association of Hispanic Journalism Conference in Puerto Rico, I'm all over. Although I'm not a huge fan of airports or planes, I do realize that I love to travel. This may be due to the fact that in the last 4-5 years for reasons that vary between journalism trips, sites as a part of my summer jobs with LeadAmerica, sorority conferences, family vacations, football games and others, I have been on the move quite a bit. Time spent in State College, D.C., San Diego, Atlanta, Miami, St. Maarten, Tampa, St. Croix, New Jersey, Orlando, Virginia, New York, Chicago, Mexico City, Harrisburg, Philly, Austin, Puerto Rico and my hometown of Ellicott City/Baltimore have given me a bit of a traveler's eye for observation and the ability to decide what I do and don't like about a city or place. And it is this that inspired me to begin a travel diary of some of my travels, commenting on the cities or countries to which I have already been or that I will visit in the future. Let the adventure begin....

Persistence: The Answer to Can'ts and Nevers

Persistence.

I don't know where it comes from, what exactly it is that drives me, where the fire in my belly derives. Maybe it's learning from the success of my doctor father or the inheritance of my mother's strength and stubbornness; maybe it's the astrology of being a Leo, a fire sign and one of the four fixed signs, or maybe I was simply born with big dreams and a big heart.

Whatever it is, in the last few years a yearning to succeed has pushed me to not accept "you can't" or "you'll never" as possibilities.

"You'll never stand out at a school as big as Penn State."

"You can't overcome the mistakes you've made." 

"You've always been quiet and shy...you'll never make it as a journalist!"

These are the doubts of people in my life that made persistence an everyday part of my vocabulary until I achieved the ultimate goal last Saturday: graduating with a college degree. 

Although I am now one of only 29% of Americans with a college degree, for a long time, the prospect of graduating from college didn't seem like that big of an accomplishment to me. I was raised in a household where going to college was expected. But all cockiness aside, after seeing how many of my peers will move on to fifth years and deferments and how many will never move on at all, I've come to be incredibly proud of not only my graduation, but all that I have achieved. 

Now, in the days between the end of the beginning of my life and the beginning of the rest of my life, I have been hit with more of those can'ts and nevers:

"You can't live in New York City as a recent graduate on a journalism salary."

"In this economy, you'll never find a job."

"You can't do what you really want to do coming out of college...sometimes you have to settle for other things and work your way up."

So now, with my MacBook, passion, persistence and writer's heart in tow, it's time to prove them wrong...once again.  

Life As A Make-Believe Foreign Correspondent

As part of an International Reporting course at Penn State, I recently had one of the most amazing experiences of my life. The point of the class was to give students a taste of life as a foreign correspondent. Before arriving in Mexico, we had to choose a topic to report on in-depth. After researching Mexico City, I found that an interesting trend has been happening in Mexico City and Latin America over the years; historically, Catholicism has been virtually the only religion, but Evangelical Protestantism is steadily becoming more popular. This was the topic I chose for my in-depth story. We were also assigned to find a feature story to cover off he ground while we were in Mexico, and I ended up covering Mattel's 50th Anniversary Celebration for Barbie in Mexico City, which featured outfits designed for Barbie by famous Mexican designers.

Here are my experiences as a reporter in the city that truly instilled in me an even deeper passion for journalism and storytelling.

Day 1: Saturday

After a night of traveling in a van from State College to Newark Airport with no sleep and an almost 6-hour flight, my 16 classmates and I finally arrived to Mexico City, better known as D.F. – El Distrito Federal. As soon as we arrived, my exhaustion and weariness wore off as I was in awe of everything I saw. Driving through the city, it looked like nothing I had seen before – an urban city with overgrown palm trees and little purple flowers I would later learn are called Jacaranda flowers. The closer we got to the hotel, the more I felt like a little kid on their way to Disney World.

The Maria Cristina Hotel is a Spanish, colonial style hotel that somehow manifested a feeling of being at home. We began our evening with a reception with another group of communications students that were staying at the hotel from the University of North Carolina.

The Maria Cristina Hotel, where we stayed while in Mexico City

That night, we all went out to a club called Touché in the city. I was expecting Mexican nightlife to be a lot different from American nightlife, so I was surprised when we arrived to the club and they were playing a lot of American music – everything from Kanye West to Christina Aguilera. To my dismay, that changed after about an hour when they started playing Techno music for the rest of the night. Regardless, we had a great time dancing coupled with a few drinks called "Palomas," and finished our night by stopping at a taco stand by our hotel and eating one of the most delicious tacos I’ve ever had.

In With the New

As is evident in the amount of time between my last post (on August 29th) and this post (on December 31st), Fall 2008 was an incredibly busy time for me.

On the eve of the new year, I can't help but reflect on 2008. One of the biggest skills I learned to master this year was time management. Somehow I managed being the president of my sorority chapter, being managing editor of my school's life and style magazine for women, editor-in-chief of a newsletter, and an intern for Rivals.com. I also worked, was a member of various clubs on campus, and of course stayed focused academically, ending the semester with a 3.72 GPA. And still managed to maintain a social and personal life. So I think it's safe to say I've got the whole time management thing down.

But mastering this level of high-stress time management also comes with mastering balance, which I think I struggled with more so than the actual management of time. Balancing between each aspect of my life and allotting the right amount of time and attention to each and prioritizing got difficult at times. I often had complaints from family members that I didn't call them enough or from friends that I didn't have time for them. But at the end of the day, I knew that I was making the right decisions and doing what was best for me. And I believe it paid off.

Earlier this month I found out I was selected as a Dow Jones Newspaper Fund Intern. Anybody who is in the realm of communications knows that this is the most competitive and most prestigious internship in copy editing there is. I was placed at the San Francisco Chronicle, so after a two-week training session at the University of Texas in May, after graduation I will be heading out to San Francisco. A move to the West Coast is daunting yet exciting, but the fact that not only was I chosen but I was placed at a large, award-winning newspaper gives me an describable sense of self-pride, and I can't help but be hopeful that this internship will open a lot of doors for me.

Fresh Meat

So it's the back to school time of the year and I am getting settled in and back to my routine of Penn State life. It always amazes me how strong my affinity for this campus is- I never truly realize it until I've been gone for a long amount of time and then I come back.

There's a lot of adjustments for me this semester, however -- I've made a complete circle and after living in an apartment for two years, I am now living in a freshman dorm as a senior. Yes, I know. It seems completely bizarre. Trust me, if I had a penny for how many puzzled looks I get when I tell people where I am living and that no, I'm not an RA, I'd be millionaire.

But the way it works on Penn State's campus is that there are no sorority houses, so some sororities have suites located in the dorms (which consist of a small living area, kitchen, and bathroom) and in order to keep these suites, they must have a certain percentage of their members residing in the dorm on the sorority floor. So, as president of my chapter this year, here I am, back in a dorm room. It's actually not so bad -- I love being around my sorority sisters and being back on campus -- really, it's just the whole community showers thing. Taking a shower in the dark shadows while wearing shower shoes and trying not to touch the walls isn't exactly my favorite way to get clean.

But being in a freshman dorm as a senior has its interesting moments that allow me to observe, reflect, and yes, laugh. Tonight I saw all of these nervous girls, putting on the most low-cut shirt that they own and giggling with their friends as they head out for their first night as a college student. And, of course, coming back a few hours later teetering on their 4-inch heels with their hair in lopsided buns and makeup running down their faces. Pure comedy.

But I can remember what it felt like to be them, to want to fit in and find yourself and live the famed crazy college life. It's crazy how fast time flies. Just yesterday I was a freshman and now, it's time to start applying for jobs and heading into the real world. Which reminds me, I should pause from blogging -- I have a few applications to finish filling out...

The Friendly Island

Upon my return from a week-long family trip to the island of Saint Maarten, I felt refreshed and renewed. But, (as I always do- my habit of constant reflection is a gift and a curse, more of a curse in this case) I found myself reflecting on the irony of the experience.

The island is gorgeous, with sparkling Caribbean waters and handsome sunsets. Colorful houses elevated on lush green hills and our sprawling resorts made me feel nothing less than blissful upon arrival. But the irony to me was in the fact that the island seems to only be paradise for the visitor, not the resident.

After speaking with various locals, the steadily decreasing economy -- much like here in the US -- has taken a considerable toll on St. Maarten residents. With gas at around $5.80 a gallon and numerous homeless islanders roaming the streets alongside homeless animals, it doesn't take much to notice the poverty level of the island -- but, of course, the visitor is conveniently distracted by the tropical breeze.

After first pondering the irony of my "vacation" I tried superficially inject the question into my mind of how can anybody be miserable in such a beautiful place? But the reality is that the majority of destinations that serve as utopian getaways for the middle and upper class of another land are drowning in issues of poverty, crime, and misfortune.

Don't get me wrong -- I thoroughly enjoyed my trip where I spent my 21st birthday. A trip parasailing showed me the true depth of the physical beauty of the island that left me in awe. But for the remainder of my trip, despite my best efforts to just relax and enjoy myself, inevitable guilt continued to creep into my physque as I laid sipping pina coladas and enjoying the high life in what should be somebody's else's paradise.

Perhaps I'm crazy and should just accept that this is the way of the world. Or, as I can hope, maybe there's somebody out there from another country with a similar secret overly active social conscience who feels tinges of guilt as they walk past homeless men on their way to a Broadway Show in New York City. Someone's arcadia is always someone else's abyss.

A Media Love Affair

This video gave me a good laugh this morning. Americans can't stop talking about Obama and his...gray hair??

It goes to show how much scrutiny is involved in this campaign. The fact that on his 47th birthday people are actually speculating whether he is dying his hair gray on purpose to make himself look older and wiser was pretty hilarious to me. What do people expect- after months upon months of fighting in one of the most grueling democratic candidacy races in recent history, and now on to the race for presidency- that's enough to age anybody.

Even when your competitor is a 71-year-old man. John McCain sure has been making an attempt to give Obama a few more grays recently, with his campaign taking a negative turn- although his camp has stated that they do not see the recent ads as negative but rather "entertaining." But I mean, really, comparing him to Britney Spears and Paris Hilton? Personally, I'm not entertained in the least.

McCain's recent statements about the amount of media attention that's been given to Obama honestly sounds like whining. McCain wrote in an e-mail message to campaign supporters: "It's pretty obvious that the media has a bizarre fascination with Barack Obama. Some may even say it's a love affair." Um, sound like a 2-year-old jealousy tantrum to anyone else? I guess somebody's upset about the fact that people are paying more attention to Obama's gray hairs and not his.

Perhaps I'm a bit less sensitive to McCain's feelings about media attention on Obama because in the midst of all this hoopla, he declined invitations to appear at the UNITY Journalism Conference twice because of "scheduling conflicts." An event featured at a conference full of minority journalists that was broadcast live on CNN, a highly respected media outlet. In other words, the perfect opportunity to be in some of the so-called media spotlight he feels he is never granted and only his competitor is receiving, but he couldn't find the time in his schedule between working on the media-loves-Obama-ads to appear. Hmmm.

Beyond my personal political views or who I plan to vote for, this turn in the campaign worries me because it reflects the quality of one of the presidential candidates as a person. I sincerely hope that McCain's campaign doesn't continue down this route because inevitably it will become sleazy- and during a time when this country desperately needs change, a sleazy presidential race is the last thing any American wants to witness.

Million Dollar Babies

When I walked into the local grocery store today scanning the magazine section to see which of my usual picks I hadn't already picked up, I couldn't help but to shake my head. I realized that the American people have a serious problem, a problem we need help with. And no, it's not the impending deficit and the horrible economy, but it's a serious problem along the psychological level.

America is obsessed with celebrities' babies.

Now, don't get me wrong. This is nothing new- people have always loved to see the little darlings that the celebrities we've watched and grown up with pop out. And I'll be the first to admit that I ooh'ed and ahh'ed at People Magazine's first photos of J.Lo and Marc Anthony's twins. But seeing today that the main headlines of every major magazine and even many newspapers are consumed by Jamie Lynn Spear's baby, the birth of Brad and Angelina's twins, and Mathew McConaughey's newborn, I realized the problem is getting increasingly worse.

The first place that people point their fingers at is the media. Now, on the one hand, of course some of the blame should be placed there. Halle Berry had every right to be outraged at paparazzi going to unnecessary lengths (taking pictures through trees of her, her mother and her daughter in her private backyard) to obtain the first pictures of baby Nahla. The actress even acknowledged the fact that she has to accept media attention as a public figure, but her daughter is not a public figure and she plans to do whatever she can to keep her out of the public eye.

So, of course, the paparazzi have once again gone too far and intruded on somebody's life on a level that was crossing the line. What people seem to forget, however, is that the blame cannot be entirely placed on the media. These magazines are businesses, and in order to stay afloat in an industry that is in crisis, they must write about and publish pictures of what is going to sell. So when People or OK! Magazines spend millions of dollars on the first pictures of Jane Doe's baby, it's not because they are malicious entities that want to expose and ruin the lives of celebrity children. It's because that's what the American people have proven they want to see and will spend money on.

Perhaps it's because the gas prices are so high that people don't even want to drive their cars anywhere so they choose to sit at home instead and gush over the adorable babies of the stars. Babies have a way of cheering people up, of making them smile- something people surely need when the economic state of their country is plummeting by the minute.

But when does it get out of control? When the pregnancy of a 16-year-old Disney channel star is glamorized? When paparazzi completely invade the privacy of a mother and grandmother who are trying to enjoy an afternoon in their own backyard? How about when the headlines go as far as to label the life of a 2-year-old who can barely speak as "lonely?"

So the clear diagnosis is that America does, in fact, have a serious problem. But the question that remains is how do we treat it? What can be prescribed to put on the covers to cure the obsession relieve these innocent children of the media frenzy? Obviously putting something of more depth on these covers is out of the question, because if the readers of US Weekly and OK! wanted to read something a little deeper, they'd be picking up Time or Newsweek instead.

So, the answer is WE NEED MORE SCANDAL! Bring on the A-Rod/Madonna love affairs so we can leave the $3 million dollar babies behind. Now that's a dignified read.

Where Will All The Newspapers Go?

After a weekend in the Windy City at the UNITY Journalism Conference I discovered that I'm not alone. I'm not alone in still holding on to the hope that as journalists we really can change the world, and that the power of the printed word actually does make a difference.

Yet while I'm not alone, all these journalists (including myself) who still hold on to the romantic idea of newspapers and coffee on a Sunday morning have had to wrap their brains around one word: digital. I've had to erase the image out of my head of people around the country reading my work on the cover of a black and white newspaper and replace it with the image of thousands of readers clicking on the podcast that accompanies my article on the main website of a large publication.

While that image doesn't exactly coincide with what I'd always imagined my future work as a journalist would be, the thought of digital change in the world of journalism is actually exciting. I myself am a victim of the digital world, as a blogger, serial text-messager and faithful reader of CNN.com. So in actuality, the print and broadcast world becoming internet based coincides with my lifestyle. As I head towards a career I can apply the skills I already use in my everyday life towards my professional skills.

What's truly troubling, however, about this move into a digital world is where will all the newspapers go? And, an even more troubling question from a journalist's perspective, where will all the reporters go? According to www.disassociated.com, as of July 7th more than 6,000 journalists have been laid off in the past year, a staggering number that has continued to increase each week since.

The phenomenon that is occurring at these publications is the older, more seasoned newspaper veterans that don't have as much digital knowledge are being laid-off and replaced with younger reporters like myself who already know how to accompany their story with an innovative and creative video complete with special effects. While of course my own professional self-interest comes first and foremost, a large part of me is saddened at the thought of the talented journalists whose work once inspired me to enter the field now laid-off trying to find freelance work anywhere they can. As someone who truly cares about the power of the word, it is truly disheartening to think of all the powerful words lost because of these layoffs and cutbacks.

So if I want a place in this new world of digital media, it's goodbye old world, hello new age. In my job search during my dwindling months as a college student, the objective will be to market myself as a tech-savvy, digitally capable journalist who is flexible in this age of change and knows how to edit, shoot, podcast and blog. I'll save the newspapers for my Sunday mornings.

Now, let me finish reading this article on CNN.com about the projected $490 billion deficit for 2009...