Reading through Why Is This So Good and Writing Without Borders, I was struck by how relevant the stories were. I enjoyed learning about global issues through a narrative story and them being explained in a compelling way. Different to journalism, I found articles that weren’t purely aiming at sharing facts but stories. They touched me in different ways and made the ideas memorable. Talking about memory, in Writing Without Borders, a new piece of writing is presented: “On Memory: New Writing from Japan” (http://wordswithoutborders.org/article/on-memory-new-writing-from-japan On Memory: New Writing from Japan). I loved the way words were used in so many different forms, there was a real play on language but also on meaning. This is especially noticeable in the following sentence: “While the exact origins of the decision remain unclear, we are pleased to say with the utmost certainty that, if we remember correctly, the resulting collection of diverse rememberings, misrememberings, rerememberings, forgettings, misforgettings, is if not(hing is) unforgettable, then memorable in many ways.” A story is shared about memory and how important it is in the shaping of our lives. And so I believe that Why Is This So Good tries to do the same thing, explore subjects that bring meaning to our lives.
One particular story that caught my eye was: No. 93: Ta-Nehisi Coates and the case for reparations (http://niemanstoryboard.org/stories/whys-this-so-good-no-93-ta-nehisi-coates-and-the-case-for-reparations/). In this article, we are told about the reasons for why black families were locked out of the housing market for decades. It is a balanced and logical essay that calls to our understanding what these families went through. As the author puts it: “The key to the genius of “The Case For Reparations” is its focus: on Clyde Ross, on North Lawndale, on housing policy. That tight focus is deliberate. The promise of America, the big-picture concept, is that everyone is supposed to have an equal shot — at “making it,” at earning a living, at a plot of land or a house. Coates makes it clear that for black Americans, that promise always has been, and still is, a lie.”