Fed up and frustrated. My mind was made up, set in stone and no man, woman or divine force could dissuade me. I was standing on a hill and prepared to die there to prove my point- I was done with journalism.
That was until an incident happened, so unforeseen, so tragic and incomprehensible that it would forever change the way in which journalists in Barbados viewed the profession.
A giant fell.
I knew Christoff Griffith mostly in a professional capacity as our paths crossed a number of times during his years as a photojournalist. He was always a breath of fresh air at any assignment he attended- soft-spoken, unassuming and a part-time comedian.
My first run-in with Christoff outside of reporting duties, occurred one night when a group of the island’s younger media workers decided to ditch the cameras and recorders for alcohol and loaded fries. It was here that I saw the charming side of a young man whose smile had the potential to brighten any cloudy sky. He spoke passionately about life as a photojournalist at the leading newspaper in Barbados as well as the joys and the struggles that came along with doing whatever was necessary to get that perfect shot. The front page of the March 22, 2019 Weekend Nation newspaper showed the fraternity that he was a beast behind the camera when he did in fact nail the perfect shot.
Amid the enthusiasm and professionalism that Christoff displayed, there were a number of struggles he highlighted which many young journalists in Barbados can relate.
It was the same story at all media houses, from Fontabelle to Warrens to the Pine, in broadcast and in print:
The long days and even longer nights in the office, the overbearing media managers who cared nothing about our fatigue or responsibilities outside of the newsroom, having to produce top-notch work with bare minimum resources and worst of all, the meager and insulting financial compensation for our efforts.
And while some at the table that night voiced their refusal to continue to work under current conditions, to hand in their resignation notice with immediate effect, I saw in Christoff's eyes a quiet resolve. That look told me what he need not say with words- even with the mountain of stress which defines the profession of journalism, there was no throwing in the towel for him, no walking out of the newsroom and vowing never to return. Christoff would continue to do what he loved: pursue that eye-catching photograph to all corners of the island, even up to his untimely death.
Unlike Christoff, my resolve, as well as that of a few others in the fraternity, had long since waned. Over the years, the feeling of unbridled excitement for the job had been clouded by circumstances which squeezed everything that I loved about the profession out of me until work became a chore and off-days, however few and far between, were like an escape.
I, too, was one of those at the dinner table that night ready to pursue a career in greener and less stressful pastures.
That was until June 22, 2020 when his life and promising career came to an end.
Suddenly there was an unspoken obligation for us to do all within our power to bring the news to the public. We were going to be better cameramen, better writers and better photographers.
But at the same time, the horrific nature of what happened to Christoff has surely left many of us wondering 'is it really worth it'?
Should we continue to give the profession every ounce of passion inside of us in an attempt to honour the memory of Christoff? Or should we close the notepads and shut off the cameras recognizing that there is and probably will never be any guarantee for our safety on the job?
Christoff’s death will certainly fracture journalists in Barbados into two groups: those who are willing to fight the fires of hell to fix the issues affecting media practitioners and others who are ready to call it quits.
I think I speak for all journalists when I say we love what we do. Except for a few media-adverse government officials, union leaders and ordinary citizens, being a media practitioner is an exciting career which we remain committed to rain fall or sun shine.
What we loathe is the environments under which we forced to work. We despise being treated as second-class citizens by Police, business organizations and some politicians while in the execution of our duties. We dislike the undue stress places on our shoulders by Media Managers and although we understand the risks associated with the profession, we especially detest having to put our health and safety at risk for mere pittance.
Going forward, whatever you decide to do with your gatekeeper's badge, whatever path you choose, pursue it with vigor. Dedicate yourself to pursuing excellence in your professional life (whether it be inside a newsroom or otherwise) just as Christoff did.
When I recall how his eyes lit up when he spoke about his best moments as a photojournalist that night, I know we owe him the best of what we have to give. We owe him even more.
And to Christoff, I say a heartfelt thank you. Thank you for showing the fraternity what it means to love a craft so much that you go all-out for it day after day.
Thank you for being an inspiration to us all and a guide on learning, mastering and striving for success.
Most of all, thank you for being you.
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