Many times on assignment to some exotic dateline, I’ve caught my breath and thought, I can’t believe someone is PAYING me to do this. It’s such a mind-blowing privilege to roam the world, to meet people changing it, to contribute to writing the first draft of history.
Lately, I’ve felt my breath catch closer to home. To be precise, every time the elevator doors glide open on NPR’s third floor newsroom. Washington is where the action is these days. The practice of journalism remains a privilege. In these unsettled times, it also feels like a duty, and a calling.