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|Pretending to be a broadcast journalist at Newseum|
Early on Saturday morning, I put on my business attire, my pumps, and my neutral nail polish, and took the 7:35 MARC train down to Washington, D.C. It was raining when I arrived, but beautiful as always. The first time I visited D.C. was in 6th grade, during the muggy month of May, but I felt at home amongst the towering monuments and in the busy streets. The subsequent times I have visited since - twice - I have only fallen more in love with our nation's capital.
|Newseum's gorgeous glass windows|
My favorite exhibit was probably the permanent 9/11 Gallery on the fourth floor. There was an emotional display about the photojournalist Bill Biggart, who died while photographing the attacks. His photos were absolutely stunning, but in a twisted and tragic way. Inside the little theater was a short documentary about the journalists who covered 9/11. I watched the video, crying silently the entire time.
I was four years old on 9/11 and didn't see the news that day. Watching the footage fifteen years later was disturbing and jarring; I truly felt that I had taken a step back in time. When the plane crashed through the second tower I had to look away. The journalists who reported in New York talked about how they had to compartmentalize being a reporter and being a person: a feat not many of us can do. They interviewed eye witnesses and recorded the collapse of the Twin Towers. The work they did was monumental and so important in capturing one of the worst days in history.
I left D.C. feeling tired - note to self: do not wear heels for the whole day ever again - but inspired and invigorated. The advice I received from almost every recruiter was to keep writing. I plan on doing just that.
Disclaimer: This is not a sponsored post.