It’s What I Do, Part 2

“It was my proximity to the action that got me the job…I often had to intuit the story of the day on my own. I got up before dawn; I went to bed at midnight. I worked every waking hour so that I could be at the right place at the right time (71).”

I found this passage from Part 2 of “It’s What I Do” especially evocative of the true depths of Addario’s commitment to becoming successful in her field. While she writes about her experiences with happiness, the sacrifices she makes to achieve her dreams are implicit in her words. Addario strikes a balance between relishing the excitement of doing work she loves and acknowledging the struggles that come with it. The repetition of sentence structure in this passage emphasizes the grueling schedule Addario followed while trying to establish herself. To me, Addario does not seem whiny or angry, but it is clear that she feels compelled to put herself under significant stress.

Comparing the views Addario expresses in this passage and her early perspectives, I was able to track her personal development throughout the first part of “It’s What I Do.” In the beginning of her photography career, she based her travels on wherever she felt compelled to shoot. However, I noticed that her passion took her freedom-in both the literal and figurative sense. She traveled with the tides of current events instead of her personal impulses and regiments her life to comply with the demands of news bureaus. She found herself unable to say “no” to assignments, regardless of her own convenience and comfort.

To make my blog readers understand my sense of drive for activities I have a true passion for, I would also highlight the difficulties I endured to satisfy my personal drive. For example, during high school, I volunteered to photograph a district swim meet that nobody else wanted to attend. It didn’t help that I had minimal photography experience and no experience photographing sports. However, I was motivated by commitment to the school newspaper and my general interest in documenting the world around me. Following Addario’s example, I might mention how I drove one and a half hours through rush hour traffic to get to La Salle University for the meet. As soon as I got out of the car, I saw snow begin to fall and my hands soon began to freeze while I hefted the 10-pound camera bag. Walking down the dark streets of Philadelphia, on the way back to my car, I felt a strange sense of contentment as the cold air hit my warm skin.

The key to writing about a passion is showing both sides: the hardship and the payoff. Without one or the other, the reader can never truly grasp how passion drives the sacrifice and sacrifice confirms one’s passion.