I am Transient: part one…
As a journalist,
reporting on events and uncovering the truth as well as representing the voiceless were important ventures in my life.
I never new of the challenges I’d face in simply doing my job. Politics played a role in everything. Money controlled
everything. Gaining power meant more than human rights. Alliances meant more than human dignity. And I knew
journalism was dead. I gave it up, telling my publisher to “take this job and shove it.” From the pundits and the news for
hire to the corporate influence to the hidden foreign agendas one would be hard pressed to locate journalistic integrity.
All the rules were broken.
But just when I thought the situation was as dire as it could be
an event occurred that would highjack journalism and reshape it into something sophisticatedly evil. The 1992 Gulf war
ushered in a new era. Instant feedback of pics, stories and video meant everything had to be censored before the event.
The rise of technology is meant to serve us, yet it has derailed our thoughts and sedated our logic.
And then it got worse.
The events of 9/11 and the subsequent fear pedaling altered reality further.
In the post 9/11 era
it is important to represent yourself and your own voice since as I believe 9/11 was the final nail in journalism’s coffin. Our
voice has been mutilated and everything from our culture to our history to our image and the very words that come from
our mouths had been altered.
Not sure when
but in terms of my blogging experience and those around me, the 2006 war on Lebanon launched many bloggers and
many more readers. It was a treasure of information, counter opinion and visual evidence. The Arab Blogoshpeare did
wonders to lift spirits that had given up hope of truth’s survival.
My first blog
After the loss of my younger brother I gave up writing. After his burial, as I returned to the US, the war started. The
frustration with traditional media, the need to vent and the need for an outlet of emotion led me to my first blog. At first, I
blogged about the war by recounting my relatives’ experiences, then followed with stats about the war, artwork and
various political statements. I settled in after the war with everything from politics to poetry. I began to notice other
bloggers doing the same; it was at that point that I realized the real worth of an Arab on-line presence.
The Arab voice could be heard
in a crisp, concise manner. The beauty of it all is that I learned more about Arab dynamic and the complexity and diversity of what is an Arab than any TV show or book I’ve read or from the limited experiences of a hyphenated soul stuck in transit. I was sure many non-arabs were getting the same lessons. The interactions of people online seemed honest and stripped of the political correctness that conceals the stabbing knife.
Now the rise of technology serves us as it was meant to do.
The advent of cheaper technology and it’s ubiquity assured that you can’t censor or silent everyone. Since anyone could
send video to millions of people to witness events for them selves to combat reports to the contrary, everyone with a
camcorder or a digital camera or a blog or even just an email address could act as a reporter.
Sites I frequent vary from the hard-core political to artists to peacenik philosophers to Arab sites that can not be categorized. They all have their time and value in making the Arab Blogosphere instrumental in regaining our stolen voice. Perhaps there is hope after all.
