by Bright
Writing has always been my therapy—a way to hold onto myself when my thoughts grow heavy. I don’t shout or cry; I write. It’s my tool to push back against the noise, process pain, and find clarity. While others may lean on music or prayer, my words are my anchor, helping me face fears, ask unspoken questions, and find relief.
Image Credit: Her Campus
But sometimes, writing feels like a small tool against the world’s enormity—like transnational crime. These crimes don’t just destroy lives; they silence voices. In places like Mexico, Colombia, and Italy, journalists lose their lives for speaking the truth. These aren’t just tragic stories in the news; they are real lives lost in the fight for justice.
In such places, writing becomes a weapon. Words on a page—truths laid bare—turn into acts of defiance. Journalists risk everything, not just for themselves but for the silenced voices and untold stories.
I think about the courage it takes to write in a world where truth can cost everything. Writers like Javier Valdez in Mexico, who fearlessly reported on drug trafficking and corruption, paid with their lives. In May 2017, Valdez was killed for his relentless pursuit of truth, his voice extinguished in the fight for justice.
It makes me wonder: does writing truly make a difference? What happens to those who give everything for answers that never come? Yet, even when the world doesn’t change, writing persists as a form of resistance. It’s not just about power—it’s about survival. It’s about saying, “I see the injustice, and I won’t look away.”
These journalists don’t write expecting to fix everything; they write because it’s the only way they can stand against a world that often feels indifferent. Writing is how they endure, how they honor silenced voices, and how they keep truth alive.
Though many lose their lives, their words inspire others to keep writing, questioning, and refusing to turn away. Perhaps that’s the point—writing may not save lives, but it keeps the fight for truth alive, and that’s enough.