By Jenna Kepley
Edited by Sara Leary
Words have always played a large role in my life. Reading, writing and talking are essential to my routine: I read the news. I write my thoughts. I talk about what is going on.
I realized how powerful words could be when I began writing for my North Carolina high school paper. I shared the story of my brother, Josh, who had been in a drunken-driving accident. I felt his story would make an impact on my classmates, especially since the prom was soon.
Josh, then 19, was driving the next morning after a night out when he crossed over the yellow line and struck another car, killing the driver. My brother was flown to the hospital.
He survived but was sentenced to 11 months in prison for involuntary manslaughter, though his blood alcohol level was below the legal limit. Josh is now 25 and has a wife and son.
Sharing that story for all my peers to read and judge was one of my most difficult decisions. But students, teachers and administrators thanked me. I had reached more people than I could have ever imagined with my words.
That journalistic moment solidified where I wanted to go in life.
Journalism to me is the consistent desire to look out for the public, to keep people informed and to hold those in power accountable. When I ran that story, I had a strong desire to look out for my peers and inform them. That desire has not fizzled.
