I’ve been in the courtroom a lot these past few weeks, but this is nothing new. In fact, my entire journalism career, thus far, has included trips to the government center almost weekly and I enjoy each time I go.
I love informing the community on what is happening in their local courthouse 20 minutes down the road. I enjoy chatting with employees in the District Clerk's Office, joking with them that “I’m back again.” I like reaching out to sources on what they might know and asking for updates on court cases.
Here is how my day might typically go: I wake up, drink coffee and eat breakfast, drive to the government center, go through security and head to the third floor. I look at which courtroom I should go to, then I walk in and sit. I listen for the names I’m waiting for, get a few quotes and maybe I’ll print some documents before I leave.
But throughout these 10 months that I’ve been employed here at the Hays Free Press/News-Dispatch, I’ve pushed my publisher to allow me to write more of what’s going on.
Maybe some of you know, but I’ve spent my time working at the newspaper attempting to tell important stories. One of my first was of child sexual assault, where the victims came forward to discuss their experiences. It was extremely difficult to listen to, but I’ll be honest, I chalked it up to being a new journalist. I thought I would “grow up” and become numb to it at some point. I had to, right? Because journalism is about shining light on important topics and giving voices to those who need it. And to continue telling those stories, I needed to face the beast head on. So, for the first time, I went to trial.
I think it’s fair to say that as someone in their early 20s, I had no idea what to expect. I was just excited to attend, both to experience it and to learn how to cover one.
What I wasn’t planning on is my first trial to be that of a murdered officer. I hate to say it, but in the world we live in today, I think that we have all seen graphic videos. But to watch the gruesome clip, with loved ones in the room, broke something in me.
Next, I had someone reach out to me to cover a child sexual assault trial. Unfortunately, I was unable to attend the entirety of it, due to some work activities I could not escape, but the little I was able to sit in on is simply another time I broke. I listened to a child, a girl way too young to discuss what happened to her in front of this room full of strangers, tell her story. I listened to the attorney correct herself every time she started to say the word “vibrator” to “the buzzy thing,” to align with the phrasing the child used.
Each time I heard something that made me flinch or suck in a quick breath, I questioned myself. Why am I here if it’s difficult for me?
But then I think about those around me in the room who never wanted to be here, either. Those who are here because they are suffering. I think about the people who wanted to be in the room, but were never given the choice to. I think about my loved ones who will be at a very similar trial in a few months. And I think about the mother who reached out to me, asking if I will cover the upcoming trial involving her daughters. She asked me why I write the stories I do. I told her it was because I think of all those who cannot or do not have the opportunity to speak.
I think that even if it’s difficult, it’s good that I am not numb. I don’t think I was struggling a few months ago because I was new. I think it’s because I truly care about whose story I tell and the trust that they give me. I’m human and journalism needs a bit of humanity. I don’t believe I could give a proper voice to those who need it if I couldn’t understand what they are trying to say, what they feel.
These days, I’ve slowed down when I’m at the courthouse. I try to prepare myself and know that I’m doing something important, so it’s worth whatever is there waiting for me.
This is what my current day looks like: I wake up, drink coffee and eat breakfast, drive to the government center, go through security and head to the third floor. I look at which courtroom I should go to, then I walk in and sit. I breathe and I listen.
Kelley is a reporter at the Hays Free Press/News-Dispatch. She can be reached at [email protected].
