Practical Lessons

Today was the first day I found myself wondering what I'm doing here.

I sat in on a counseling session for recent rape survivors, and a couple of the participants were gracious enough to talk to me afterward. And don't you know, since then I've been walking around with a feeling like somebody punched me in the gut.

I've never had to interview someone crying over a lost child or spouse. I've never had to ask someone to drag up painful memories, just so I could get a quote. But I recognize that someday, and probably someday soon, I'm going to have to.

I wonder, will it get any easier? And more importantly, do I want it to? When the day comes when I'm no longer fazed by death or grief or loss, will it mean I've finally become a good reporter? Or will it mean I've lost my humanity?