B.A. multimedia journalism, B.A. political science | Oklahoma State University
Graduation: May 9, 2025
My work
I’ve always been a listener.
Or at least people treated me like one. I grew up painfully shy, and I spent most of high school trying to blend into the white brick walls of Jones High School like a socially awkward chameleon. But people still noticed me, and I noticed something about them, too. The longer I listened, the more they shared.
But I broke my cycle of awkwardness in college, because I felt as if I could accomplish anything as long as I was armed with my purple AP stylebook and my reporting notebook. I clung to one part of high school, though. Listening.
People talk to me because they want to be heard, and they know I will listen. I interview sources no one else can get in touch with because I put in the work no one else will. That means sending handwritten letters to sources who aren’t sure they want to talk. It means meeting sources wherever they’re comfortable talking to me. It means dropping off a physical copy of the paper that features their story. I’ve helped feed the homeless, interviewed a Paris diplomat at 4 a.m. and pitched a story idea to strip club staff because sometimes that’s what it takes to get to a good story.
And in return, people listen to me. They read what I write, keep in touch over email and send me story ideas.
So I’ll keep listening, and I won’t stop writing.
My resume
Clips
I spent two Tuesdays with the Cardinals Love for the Homeless crew and watched them prepare for the dinners they hosted. I shadowed them with a notebook in one hand and a camera in the other, and I got to know the unhoused people they helped. They shared their stories with me over lunch, and it opened my eyes to something I didn't know was so prevalent in my community. After the article was published, Cardinals Love for the Homeless received a freezer donation.
As I sped through a red light in the backseat of a firetruck, I fumbled for my notebook. I’d heard the stories of those living in homeless shelters, on sidewalks and under trees. When the paramedics ran to the side of a homeless man seizing in the street, I ran, too. My four-hour ride along with the ART-2 team was almost over, and the drive back to the Tulsa World newsroom was just too long to wait before I began writing.
I passed a strip club every time I drove from my college town to the Tulsa World, and my imagination went wild with every trip. Rather than assume, I investigated. I settled on a story idea and got to work. The bouncers were skeptical at first, but the girls accepted me immediately. I spent more than six hours chatting with employees, conducting interviews and even taking photos because none of the O'Colly photographers were old enough to enter the club. I visited a final time to drop off the paper that featured their story on the front page. When I walked in, the girls excitedly yelled “She’s back!”
When I called Travis Clark and told him I wanted to write a feature on his business, he was skeptical. He said a reporter had twisted his story years ago, and he didn't wanted it to happen again. I mentioned a connection we had, and he took it back. He gave me a chance.
Tulsa World’s business reporter awaited the opening of a nearby outlet mall for months, but when it came time for its media tour, he was on vacation. The assignment was passed on to me, and I thought I was going to miss the opportunity as well when I awoke to storm clouds the day of the tour. The tour worked out, and I stomped through puddles comparable to small ponds and wrote my most popular Tulsa World story.
I didn’t believe my friends when they told me there was a caged man on Library Lawn, and I still barely believed it after I interviewed him. I found his LinkedIn profile and videos of his previous cage endeavors, but I still wasn’t sold. I feared his unique name was a lie, so I tracked down two of his old high school classmates to be sure. The story hit the web the next day, and it went viral.
I interviewed multiple sources daily before I met a retired teacher who connected me with Lilu, a previous student she knew was undocumented. Lilu trusted us with her story, and we learned to navigate working with an undocumented, anonymous source. Not only did I learn how to navigate verifying an undocumented person’s identity and protecting it, I learned that good relationships with my sources are priceless.
When my adviser told me Burns Hargis had some big plans on his mind, I jumped at the chance to write the story. It took weeks to connect with Hargis, and when I did, the story wasn’t quite what I thought it was. Turns out, Hargis never slowed down.
I’m no barbecue expert, but I am drawn to passionate people and their stories. And if passion exists anywhere, it’s in the barbecue industry. I had no trouble tracking down local barbecue experts to share their stories with me, and by the end of Tulsa World’s barbecue voting bracket, I felt like an expert myself.
Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday I sat down in my afternoon class, and I wondered why the guy who sat in front of me had an OU tattoo. My classmates whispered the same question. So, one day I asked him. I know if I’m curious about something, other students must be, too.
A social media post detailing a string of racist incidents garnered hundreds of likes and reposts in one night. I had all five victims in a conference room by the next morning. I persuaded one unsure victim to go on the record, and I had the story on the web two hours later, even though my work was disrupted by an hour-long class. This story placed third in the news story category for the Oklahoma Press Association’s 2023 college news media contest.
After my second OSU Homecoming, I wondered what happened to the colorful, intricate house decs that lined Greek Row. I was a beginner journalist and had no idea how to tackle the story, but after working an internship and joining The O’Colly editorial board, I knew I was ready. I wrote the story, and after people read it, they told me they had always wondered the same thing.
Local government and education
Courts and crime
MMJ Capstone Project
Each multimedia journalism student is required to complete a capstone course to graduate. We must choose a topic for the project, pitch five story ideas and present each of them to the class.
I chose “fashion on campus” as my topic. The freedom students gain at college manifests in a lot of ways, one of them being personal style. Sometimes the clothes people wear symbolize more than their style, or an outfit may be nothing more than what they grabbed from their closet that morning as they hurried to class. The topic is inherently visual, and everyone has a unique sense of fashion.
About me
I’m from Jones, Oklahoma, a town about three thousand people call home. I grew up in a University of Oklahoma family, and I imagined myself carrying on the tradition for most of my life. As college decision time neared, I realized I belonged at Oklahoma State University, so I trusted my gut and took an alternative path, a theme that defined my college career.
Although I outgrew my crimson and creamed colored dreams, my love for writing didn’t fade with age. I grew up playing with the reporter American Girl Doll, Kit, and I started my own newspaper in elementary school. The Backyard Barn News ran only one Sunday. I couldn’t come up with a second week of stories and neither could my unpaid staff reporter (my little brother). I ditched The Backyard Barn News for the barn, and I began barrel racing when I was 13. Now, I’m back where I started: the newspaper. And I write about more than farm animals now.
I cover politics, crime, breaking news and everything in between that piques my interest. I added a second degree plan in political science halfway through college to gain an unbiased, educated perspective on the topics I covered, and I owe my journalism experience to newsrooms, not classrooms. I’ve been a natural at writing, but I learned journalism is about so much more. The bright blue O’Colly newsroom became my sanctuary during hard times, and I could escape reality as long as I had my Tulsa World press badge around my neck. Read more about it in my column for the Oklahoma Press Association here.
My love for horses followed me to college, too. After saving the money to buy my mare when I was 17, my parents couldn’t exactly tell me no when I told them I planned to bring her to college. She held me accountable, and I owe my horses for making me a determined, resilient journalist. I even snuck in a column about horses into The O’Colly. Read it here.
