People are driving me up the wall

Some say you shouldn’t engage—just ignore it and move on.

I’ve played that quiet game for most of my career. But honestly? That’s changing. It’s not right to let bad actors hijack the narrative unchecked. We all have to call out misinformation and lies when we see them. Full stop.

As a journalist today, you don’t just try to build trust—you have to wrestle with people’s deep-seated distrust first. It’s not fair, but it’s the reality we live in. The job isn’t just about earning trust anymore; it’s chipping away at that wall of skepticism in hopes of breaking through.

Distrust in institutions has never been higher. I get why—there are real reasons to be wary.

But what I’m seeing too often is cynicism pretending to be skepticism.

Here’s some basic wisdom: just because one person or one institution wronged you once doesn’t mean you get a free pass to throw the whole thing out the window forever.

That’s not skepticism. That’s giving up.

It feels like everyone’s suddenly an expert referee in every game—even when they’re not playing or don’t even know the rules. No dog in the race, but full-on commentary mode anyway.

A solid truth: "Everyone has a right to their opinion, but not to their own facts."

Social media has turned everyone into armchair pundits with zero accountability. The result? Noise overload—everyone shouting opinions without facts, context, or sometimes even a clue.

It’s exhausting. And it’s a big reason people grow cynical about real journalism. Because why trust the pros when the peanut gallery is louder, faster, and often less accurate?

What is a pro journalist? Someone who upholds accuracy, ethics and is careful to report only confirmed or verified claims and details.

A random post in a community Facebook group about a shooting or crash? That’s not confirmation. It’s often speculation—and it’s reckless to toss those details into the public square without knowing the facts first.

We’d all be better off if we stayed in our lanes and owned what we do best. Leave healthcare to doctors and nurses. Leave cooking to chefs. Leave reporting to journalists who care. (We do exist, promise).

Now, some of you might wonder: why even take the time to write this? Isn’t it a sign of weakness to show people they’re getting to you?

Well, as we say down South: people are driving me up the wall.

I’m not losing sleep over it. In fact, it pushes me harder—seeing just how misinformed and uneducated people can be is shocking.

Look, I don’t trust everything out there. Never have. I don’t expect you to either. But wouldn’t it be something if more people tested what they see against actual evidence instead of assumptions, beliefs, or stubbornness?

If I write about something or defend it, there’s a reason. I’m accountable to my community. I want people to understand there are real, thinking, feeling humans behind the bylines in local newsrooms.

If I wanted to take advantage of people’s trust, there are flashier, easier ways to do it. But I chose journalism—because I care about truth, not control.

If we got back to truth and allowed for disagreements without war, we’d all be living in a better society. And maybe, just maybe, I could start coming back down from the wall.

Slowly. Very slowly.