Steffany

This has been a trying week. Not all of the trying has been negative, but there have been plenty of opportunities for me to grow as a person.

I began the week with an interview at my favorite magazine. I’d spent the couple of days before feeling absolutely terrified. My fear turned into me nitpicking my outfit selection for the day. It even turned physical: I felt queasy and lightheaded most of the way there. To me, it was a stepping stone, but one I didn’t think I would even have a shot at until years down the line. I arrived 30 minutes early. Hoping to waste some time, I popped into a Starbucks close to the building.

I began to size myself up in the morning, rattling off positive affirmations, hoping to believe in them enough to get me through the moments ahead. I had this image of walking into a bustling office, filled to the brim with gorgeous talented people whom I had long admired, and just not stacking up. I’m a obsessed with media, especially magazines, and other tactile forms. I spent a large part of my early years soaking up New York radio, reading my parents’ issues of Vibe, Source, and XXL magazines. Who took the pictures? Who was the editor in chief? Danyel Smith-era Vibe and coverage of NY rap circa 2011 was instrumental in my desire to become a music journalist.

I had these excessively high aspirations, most of them tied to what I thought it meant to be a music journalist. Most of them, I now realize, wouldn’t be considered professional anyway, such as getting in with the rapper and their squads because I was “one of the boys” and then capturing them in the moments that haven’t been discussed in interviews. When I had a new favorite artist, I watched and read all their interviews on YouTube, and was often disappointed when journalists would ask them the same questions. “How did your group get its name?” I’d think, Did you bother to research them?

The lines between the interviewee and the media personality interviewing them are increasingly blurred. Many media personalities spend so much time cultivating their own brands and stardom that it affects their ability to do their job. I love and care about pop culture, especially black American culture. It isn’t a joke to me. To see it treated as such by media companies that built themselves up by covering rap and other black art forms, is disheartening.

Although, I’ve taken a little break from my obsession with rap and the idea of being a music journalist, I’m still wary of gatekeepers. I watch Hot 97 personalities think that it’s cool to take shots or ask generic questions with younger guests, which I see as blatant disrespect. I just know for a fact that I can do their job one thousand percent better than them.

We’re in a space now where there is no clear set path to get to where you want to go. Whereas before in the past, you’d go to school for broadcast journalism, and then internship, and then and then. That doesn’t exist anymore! I have a whole list of people and I’m coming for their spots, because I know I can do it! I can do it! I just need to get out of my own head to do so. ♦