Abby Ryan has her whole life planned out, up until graduation that is. As a journalism student at the University of Southern Washington, she has one goal in mind for her last semester of senior year: secure a scholarship for graduate school. But whe...
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I have twenty-four hours before we go to print.
I've written a few last-minute articles before, usually because an underclassman would drop the ball, and as a section editor, I'd have to rush to fill the open slot. But this is different. This isn't a random fluff piece; this is arguably the most important article I've ever written.
It's also the best article I've ever written.
The most sincere.
The most powerful.
It poured out of me the second I sat down at this table, nestled in the back on the sixth floor of the library where no one ever really wanders. I've been surrounded by bookshelves brimming with the greatest works of the past few centuries as I typed away on my laptop, fueled by the fear, the anger, and most importantly, the determination to write something that matters. To throw my voice out into the world and hope that it's heard, even if it's only a few USW students who are listening.
Paige, my amazing editor-in-chief, was more than a little shocked when I emailed her asking if she had any space left for a last-minute article. I was fully prepared for her to turn me down since we were hours away from sending to print, but she didn't. She gave me ten hours to send over the article, and looking at the clock now, I have three left.
My article is done. Well, nearly.
I'm still waiting to hear back from one of the women I emailed early this morning. I was able to find a few female interns who were working at USASN around the time Marina St. Clair was in grad school. When she was here for the Q&A, she mentioned that she'd heard about Greg Bradshaw's infamous reputation for trading opportunities and promotions to his female interns for sexual favors, which means, if an intern were working at USASN at that time, they'd probably know about it.
Thanks to my sleuthing skills, I managed to find two women, both of whom I sent emails to ask if they'd be willing to give a quote for my article. One woman, Rei Torres, replied a few hours later, but aside from agreeing that she'd also heard accusations that USASN was known for letting wildly inappropriate incidents slide, she didn't have anything specific she could offer. Except for one thing—a name. Brenda Morgan.
She explained that Brenda was on set the day Bradshaw lost access to the Olympic Women's swimming team. She's one of the only people who actually know what happened that day. I knew the moment I read the email that it was a long shot, but three mocha coffees deep, I was practically vibrating in my seat as I typed out the email to her because if I had a quote from her, it would change everything. I would have a statement from an eyewitness, someone who saw firsthand the kind of things Greg Bradshaw has been accused of by so many women. If I had a quote from Brenda Morgan, I wouldn't just be writing an article; I'd be writing an exposé.
But even without Brenda's account of that day, my article is still strong. Everything I need to back up my claims was broadcasted on Twitter and live television a few days ago. The Danielle Young situation is evidence enough of USASN's misogynistic culture, and those tweets, those hashtags, they're just proof of the incredibly flawed values perpetuated by the company and those who are in positions of power within it.
