I am the one who decides what’s important, who to talk to, what to tell. I am the one who tries to put time in tiny sentences. I am the one who picks what in the world will become history.
A journalist in pink approaches her next interviewee, notebook perched in one hand, and pen in the other. She extends her hand. The man slaps it away. Why aren’t females treated the same as their counterparts?
I am the one who decides what’s important, who to talk to, what to tell. I am the one who tries to put time in tiny sentences. I am the one who picks what in the world will become history.
A journalist in pink approaches her next interviewee, notebook perched in one hand, and pen in the other. She extends her hand. The man slaps it away. Why aren’t females treated the same as their counterparts?