globalists
Globalists is a digital news startup I co-founded at Syracuse University. Globalists aims to start conversations about global issues and tell student stories related to culture and diversity. As Editor-in-Chief, I led an executive board of 7 people. I oversaw all the editorial content on the website.
Check out the Globalists website here.
While editor-in-chief, I also led the publication of Globalists’ first print issue:
Globalists won "The Award for Outstanding Media/Publication" at the 2018 44 Stars of Excellence ceremony, which recognizes SU organizations who demonstrate outstanding dedication and commitment to their organization and its mission.
Besides editing articles, I also regularly wrote, photographed, and produced video for the platform. Here are excerpts from a few pieces I enjoyed working on:
Photo by Saniya More
In April 2019, I visited Israel and Palestine on a reporting trip sponsored by the S.I. Newhouse School of Public Communications and the Jerusalem Press Club. Over the ten-day trip, we visited the different borders, learned about their complicated histories and interacted with locals. We also reported on our own story while on the trip. I chose to report on Israeli-Arab women because they comprise a minority population that has long faced stigma and discrimination but is slowly making its way up the social ladder because of education. An excerpt from my article:
The heavy downpour did little to drown out Sohayla Aborkeek’s voice as she sat in front of a crowd and told them her story. Sohayla is a 47-year-old Bedouin woman living in Be’er Sheva, the largest city in the Negev desert in southern Israel.
The Bedouin are nomadic people who have historically lived in the desert regions in North Africa, the Arabian Peninsula, Iraq and the Levant. Today, many Bedouin communities, particularly in Israel, are no longer nomadic, choosing instead to live in permanent settlements across the desert.
Although the Bedouin have changed their way of life, they follow the Islamic religion and adhere to a very strict set of cultural norms. According to Sohayla’s experience, men tend to have more power and access to resources than women.
Before Sohayla got married, her sister started a Bedouin medicine business selling oils and herbs. But after Sohayla’s marriage, things changed.
“When I got married, my husband told me not to ask about working,” she said. “Because of that, I stayed at home with no job.”
Illustration by Junyu Guan
The frigid Syracuse wind hit my face, sending my hair flying in a thousand different directions. I shivered, hugging myself to preserve the little body heat I had left. I numbly checked my phone to track my Uber ride. Two minutes away.
When the gray SUV eventually pulled up, I got in with my broadcast camera and recording kit. I started a conversation with the driver and asked him if he was a Syracuse native. He said yes, and then asked me where I was from.
“I can’t figure your voice out,” he said, making eye contact with me through his rear view mirror. “You don’t have an accent, not quite. But you don’t sound American.”
I laughed, because this was something I had heard a lot. I was born in India and raised in Thailand, and also went to an international school my entire life. English is my first language-- it’s the language I think in, it’s the language I am most comfortable with.
Illustration by Junyu Guan
I’ve always worn my cultural identity on my sleeve. As a woman of color born to immigrant parents, I’m considered a minority almost everywhere I go.
Unsurprisingly, this is hardly any less true for the industry I will enter after I graduate in a matter of months: journalism.
In late 2017, the American Society of News Editors announced that journalists from minority backgrounds make up only 17 percent of the workforce in American newsrooms.
Lack of diversity isn’t exactly a new problem in the news industry. Male, white reporters have traditionally dominated the highest levels of many news agencies. By contrast, reporters from minority backgrounds, particularly women of color, have faced many hurdles when it comes to advancing their careers and applying for higher level positions.
Photo by Hanna Benavides
It started out as the perfect Halloweekend night. Costume? Check. Party playlist? Check. An irrevocable urge to dance all night? Check.
My friends and I were ready to go all out and hit one of the many parties that were taking place that night on campus. Needless to say, we were excited because for some of us, myself included, this would be our last Halloween at SU.
We started off the night with freshmen tendencies— we had no clue where we would be going. We wandered the streets, battling Syracuse’s bipolar rainy weather with heavy coats and hoods.
After a good walk, we arrived at a seemingly open fraternity house. A horde of white girls in interesting costumes were ahead of us, and the boys at the house ushered them in, no questions asked. My friends and I decided to go to the party as well, it looked open and ambient enough.
Imagine our slight shock when the hosts took one look at our faces and bulky coats, and asked if we were in a sorority. “No,” we replied, a little surprised because they hadn’t asked the girls in front of us.
“This party is only for sorority girls,” they told us. Although they didn’t say it outright, it was subtly obviously what they were getting at: three out of four of us were of Asian descent, and didn’t exactly fit the typical sorority girl profile.