On some dark night in the summer of 2017 – I believe it was a Tuesday – I stood motionless in a damp parking lot as a red neon sign reflected off the black, wet pavement. My source was inside. He was a quiet man who wore scaled, leather boots and was fearful of the world around him. For nine years, he had been in this country, and for those nine, long years, he had not seen his family. Each week, month, and year, he would send home his paychecks to them. In exchange, he would miss birthdays, graduations, and funerals.
 

 It was on that night, in that parking lot, that I knew I needed to continue on as a journalist. Not only did I come to realize the importance of community journalism, but I found my love of people and storytelling through it. I became entrenched in the pursuit to uncover truth, and to put the pieces of stories together.

My pursuit to tell stories has taken me many places, and I've found myself taking up many different hats as times have changed. From writing true-crime murder mystery, to directing award winning documentaries, and even continuing on in my passion of acting, telling stories has become intertwined with my identity.