Doing Journalism My Way

the title is because of Frank Sinatra's "My Way" since Ive been listening to it on repeat sobbing.

I fell in love with journalism when I was eight years old.

The smell of a fresh newspaper still hits me like nostalgia, like a memory I want to live inside.

I used to dream about writing for The New York Times, BuzzFeed, or any of the big names that shaped my love for this industry. The kind of journalism I wanted felt tangible back then—like something I could reach out and grab.

Now, it feels like a fight every single day.

I spent the weekend talking to journalists—people who work in newsrooms, people who get up every day and walk into spaces filled with deadlines, breaking stories, and the kind of hands-on experience I always thought I’d have by now.

The conversations led to crying out of frustration, because my journey into journalism does not look like theirs. This is why I’m boohooing on my couch, in my bed before bed(time), in the shower listening to Frank’ “My Way” on repeat before 8am, sobbing as the water falls down my face and then BACK on my couch watching love is blind so I can numb the pain because nothing says distracting the pain than watching people who come on to this show to find “love”.

(*cough* IG followers *cough*)

Me, boohooing in the shower before 8 AM, listening to Frank Ocean’s “My Way” on repeat, letting the water mix with my tears because my journalism journey doesn’t look like theirs.

I did not start in a newsroom.

I didn’t come up through a traditional pipeline. I’ve spent nine years—off and on—in school, at different colleges, taking communications courses, studying journalism from the outside in. I’ve built my own experience through podcasting, independent reporting, freelance writing, and certifications. I’ve done the work in my own way, but still, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m somehow behind.

Not just because the industry is changing, but because the path I’ve taken isn’t the one I imagined. Journalism is no longer just a job—it’s something I have to build for myself. It’s newsletters and independent platforms. It’s writing late at night or early in the morning when no one is watching. It’s believing in my voice even when traditional spaces don’t make room for it.

And that’s where I get stuck. Because I still want this life for me.

I want it more than anything.

I had to convince myself that wanting it isn’t enough. That because I didn’t come up through a newsroom, because I didn’t land a dream job at a legacy publication straight out of school, my journalism doesn’t count. But that’s not true.

The media landscape is changing, and so is the definition of what it means to be a journalist. We’re seeing more independent writers, more podcasts, more newsletters, more self-funded reporting than ever before. I have the tools. I have the knowledge. I’ve spent years building my portfolio in ways that no one gave me permission to do.

Why am I still waiting for permission?

This is my reminder—to myself and to anyone who needs to hear it—that there is no one way to become a journalist. You don’t need a newsroom to tell you you’re a journalist. If you’re telling stories, if you’re writing, if you’re researching, if you’re holding space for conversations that matter—you’re already doing it.

And I’ll keep doing it.

This Substack, this platform, this space—this is my newsroom.

If you’re on this journey with me, thank you so much for the love, the support, and for sharing my work. your journalism journey is valid, I hope this reminds you that it is.

There’s no singular path. No one route that guarantees success. Some people take the traditional track—journalism school, newsroom internships, legacy publications—while others, like me, carve our own way through freelance gigs, podcasting, independent reporting, and digital storytelling.

Neither path is lesser. Neither path is invalid.

We are witnessing a shift in media where independent journalism is not just thriving, but necessary. People are tired of corporate narratives, of newsroom biases that stifle real voices. The rise of Substack, Patreon, and self-funded reporting isn’t a trend but a movement for a long time coming. And I’m part of it.

So this is me, reclaiming my title, my purpose, my path.

I’m Jazzenai and I am a journalist.

Not because I’ve been hired by a legacy media company, but because I do the work. Because I chase stories, do the research, ask the questions, analyze the culture, and amplify perspectives that deserve to be heard.

If you’re here reading this, if you’re subscribed, if you’re following along on this journey—thank you. This space is my newsroom, and I’m so grateful to build it with you.

Let’s keep going.

If you’re not already subscribed, join me here on Substack. I can’t wait to hear what you all have to say.