The Freedom Writers Diary - Erin Gruwell [100]
Diary 119
Dear Diary,
Tonight I met my idol, an ordinary man with an extraordinary gift. In my opinion Peter Maass is more than just a journalist, he’s a hero, and living proof of what can be accomplished when good people do something. I remember the first time I read an article by Peter Maass, during my sophomore year right before we met Zlata. The article was in Vanity Fair, and it was titled “Ground Zero,” based on his encounters in Bosnia. His words were very blunt and vivid. He told tales of hate crimes and atrocities so horrid that I couldn’t stop reading. He wrote about men being forced at gun point to rape their daughters. It made me wonder what would have happened to Zlata if she would have stayed in Sarajevo.
I can’t believe Ms. G tracked him down and invited him to come meet us at our hotel in New York. I mean, there he was, my idol, right before me. Meeting him was perhaps the most intense moment of my life. I couldn’t believe I was in the same room with one of the only journalists who managed to get a one-on-one interview with Slobodan Milosevic.
There was something missing from this puzzle that was supposed to be picture-perfect, though. When he was done talking about his experience in Bosnia, I wanted to know something. Before I knew it I said, “I watch National Geographic on television and I don’t understand how a journalist can just sit and watch an animal die? Is it the same when you’re covering a war? Do you simply sit and watch people die?” The room became silent. Some of the Freedom Writers were shocked by my question, and others seemed to be offended on Peter’s behalf. But I just had to know.
After the silence, Peter began to explain how he often has to push his personal views aside and not get involved. He told us that anything he did other than being a journalist could upset some wicked balance. If he got involved in a dangerous situation, he would not only jeopardize the lives of the people he was trying to help, but his life, and the life of his crew as well. If he were to be killed, his death would ensure that there would be more Bosnias. After he was done explaining his role as a war correspondent, I felt content. Now I have an even greater respect for his courage. He wasn’t letting evil prevail by watching and doing nothing. By writing about the images he saw in Sarajevo, he was ensuring that no one would deny that ethnic cleansing was taking place, and that thousands of innocent men were being taken to their deaths.
Tonight I met my idol, Peter Maass…I can’t believe it.
Diary 120
Dear Diary,
…And the Pimp of the Year Award goes to…our “agent,” Carol. She has helped us set foot into a door filled with new opportunities. If not for Carol, we would have never thought that we could actually publish our classroom diary.
Carol got the name “Pimp” because the first time we met her someone asked what an agent’s role was, and the answer was…she’s like a pimp. Not to mention the fact that she was wearing a red jacket, a fedora, a cane, and had a French chauffeur. (Really.) I was somewhat confused when they said that she was like a pimp. My vision of a pimp is someone who is the complete opposite. To me, a pimp is a tall, smooth-talking middle-aged man who uses his slick ways to manipulate the minds of young women—not a five-foot-tall Jewish grandmother!
Carol is smart, witty, and she knows how to play the game. From what Ms. G has told us, she will not take any money from us, and she is helping us out of the kindness of her heart.