Being a sports journalist has always been a dream of mine.
Often, as a kid, I would find myself in front of the television, wondering about the thought of "how cool it would be to cover this one day" as I watched a game.
But now that I have somewhat reached my goal of becoming one, I realize how difficult it is working in a male-dominated industry.
According to a 2021 report by the Institute for Diversity and Ethics in Sport (TIDES), 85.6 per cent of reporters within Canada and the United States were men, and 14.4 per cent were women.
From the interviews to late-night game coverage, final deadlines, and the comments I’ve heard over time, starting as a reporter can be rewarding but equally draining, too.
Over the past year, I’ve had the opportunity to cover women’s basketball, softball and even the Ontario Colleges Athletics Association (OCAA) women’s volleyball championship games.
But in the background, there were also times where I’d stay up writing into the early morning hours or come home to see that my family was all asleep, after not speaking to them all day.
And of course, I could not forget the late-night barbacoa burrito orders from Gus Tacos. Those things saved me.
The crazy part is, no matter how much it deteriorated me emotionally, I’d somehow get up in the morning and do it all over again the next day, simply because I love what I do.
This time last year, I remember attending one of my first-ever pitch meetings where my professor asked me if I’d be willing to cover a softball game that weekend.
Unsure if I even wanted to cover that beat in the first place, the pressure of everyone’s gazes got to me as I hesitantly spat out a “yes” without even thinking.
My mind, on the other hand, instantly thought of the countless what-ifs.
"What if my photos don’t turn out well?" Or, "what if my interviews go south," or "what if I seem like I don’t know what I’m talking about?"
The list went on.
Despite the amount of doubt I had in myself, I went through with it, and this softball story was my debut article for Humber Et Cetera.
Little did I know that it would only become a constant uphill battle from there.
A few months in, and I no longer found the pitch meetings to be something I enjoyed.
Every week, I sat in an uncomfortable, plastic chair, feeling judged any time I tried to offer a suggestion or pitch a story.
Not only this, but whenever I tried to make conversation with some people in my beat, nine times out of 10, they’d speak to me for five seconds, then turn around and ignore me as if I never existed.
It felt like I had been transported back to elementary school, but instead of being the girl surrounded by friends, I was the girl standing in the corner alone.
This moment in particular was when I had realized that I’d have to work one thousand times harder to prove that I, too, deserve a spot at the table.
Having to go from covering one story a week to eventually two in a day on top of my other classes was anything but easy.
Some weeks, I found that I would stretch myself thin to make sure that we’d be able to get at least one women’s sports story up on the website.
Now, it’s not much different.
Fast forward to the final year, and I am now Humber Et Cetera’s women’s sports editor.
The first sports editor within my program to take on a role solely dedicated to women’s sports.
So far, my editorial role has been a little harder than I thought it would be.
Suddenly, I found myself having to rely on those in the year below me to report on the stories.
A task that isn’t as easy as it sounds, especially after I’ve built up the skills to be able to report on multiple stories a week.
Instead, I now find myself waiting for those stories to come in.
In addition, I also didn’t think I’d be greeted without using my name or told that the quality of my work was supposedly sloppy.
Especially since I’ve worked incredibly hard to get to where I am today.
But I have now realized, unfortunately, experiences like this may continue to be my reality. I just have to remember to keep my head held high throughout it all and never look down.
As for when I leave the program, I hope that other women in the future see my work as an inspiration.
I’d want them to know that even though it might be a difficult path to go down – like many events in our lives – your hesitancy is the only thing that’s stopping you from chasing your dreams.
Know that it is okay to make mistakes while doing something you've never done before, because what matters is that you still tried.
And making spots for other women at the table is the only way to change the narrative for a better future.
