When Cristi first asked me to write a blog about my experiences working with our reporters in East Africa, I took a long while to think about what it was I wanted to say, and how I wanted to say it. As I told to the reporters while I was there, it seems a bit ironic to think that I will come back and write a bit about them and about this experience as we sit in our trainings day after day, emphasizing the importance of their voice and their presence on the ground, in their own countries. They laugh and joke along with me, reassuring me that as members, women of the Global Press Institute, we all have a voice. And as such, a responsibility to use it to the best of our own abilities.

This was not the first time I have run trainings for GPI. Last year, in 2010, I worked with one of our partner agencies in South Africa to facilitate a training for young women in South Africa during the World Cup. Although elements of the Ethics Refresher and Writing trainings were similar, these last two trainings with our Kenyan and Ugandan reporters had an entirely different feel. Perhaps because these women were older, more experienced. Or maybe on account of their backgrounds in writing, or the fact that many of them have other careers or jobs some related to journalism and others not.

What really and truly struck me about the reporters in both countries, however, what I am so in awe of even two weeks on from these trainings, is the passion with which these women approach their work – the drive they have to not just be reporters, but to be AMAZING journalists covering intense social issues and diving into stories not because their interesting or curiosity peaking, but because each and every one of them wants to see a tangible social outcome, response, or change as a result of their work. As we were talking about this one day during the writing seminar in Nairobi, I asked one of our reporters, Dorah, what story it was that she was most proud of writing during her tenure with GPI. Without hesitation, she responded, “the story I did on palliative care for ill children here in Kenya…here is this terrible circumstance, I spoke to a mother who was watching her child die and just trying to ease her pain…I wanted to speak for her. I wanted to give her a voice – I wanted to give all of them a voice.”

And so she did. It struck me on that day and every day I was in Nairobi and Kampala, that this is why these women work for GPI. This is more than a pay-check, it is more than a steady job. Yes, GPI provides and incredible service by training and employing these women across the world. Yes, the organization markedly improves the lives of its reporters and by proxy their families and communities. But sitting there speaking to our reporters face to face, talking to their families, seeing them in their own homes and in the context of their own countries, that is blatantly not why they are here. These women are here because they have something to say, to shout even, to the world about what is happening on the ground in their communities. They want to catalyze change and make a statement. About Kenya? Uganda? Women? About all of it. And to see it in real-time, right there in our little training room at the YMCA in Nairobi, and the FemRite library in Kampala…I can’t even describe to you how empowering it felt to ME and I was, in some way, merely an observer to this whole process.

I had a professor in graduate school, Dr. Margaret Lombe, who has spent years working and studying social work both in Africa and the United States. Every week, in her course that covered humanitarian aid and development work across the developing world, she used to ask us a question: Are you hopeful? Are you hopeful about the future of this world that seems at times, to be coming apart at the seems? Are you hopeful that you, that someone, is making a difference? That someone is making it better…

Joanne. Dorah. Irene. Sarah. Rose. Stella. Sophie. Mary. Beatrice. Jackee. Apophia. Angelina. 12 faces of hope. 12 faces of change. 12 reminders to me why Global Press Institute exists. 12 reasons I am so grateful to Cristi for having the courage to give these women, and 115 more in 21 other countries, a platform for their voices.

So how would I sum up these trainings? With that one word: Hope. Because at the end of the day, that’s really what this organization is all about. It’s the tie that binds, the thread that holds all of us who are part of this amazing group together across continents, and across cultures. It’s what keeps us all moving forward each day – the promise that we are making a difference together, one story, one woman, and one life at a time.

A huge thank you to all the GPI women out there for continuing to inspire hope in all of us.

There are days when things are challenging at GPI.

Funding requests denied. Technology problems. Access issues. Etc.

And then there are days like today.

I awoke to word from Sehrish and Padma that the Sri Lanka office opened without a hitch and the first day of training in our newest News Desk was a success. I received press pass headshots of each new trainee. For the first time, I got to see the faces of the next 7 women who would use this opportunity to make their mark on the world.

I arrived at the office to news that a grant for our Kenya News Desk had been awarded.

And then I headed out to a local middle school to spend the morning with 40 7^th graders embarking on a journalism unit in their English class.

I’ve done a handful of school visits over the last few years. But there was something about today’s visit that left me inspired.

Two months ago, David Cole, a 7^th grade English teacher at the Sonoma Country Day School, emailed me after seeing a feature story about GPI in the local paper. He invited me to his class and I agreed. It seemed straightforward enough.

What I was not prepared for was the level of passion Mr. Cole possesses for both his students and for journalism. Throughout the morning we talked about GPI; why the world needs journalism; why journalists need ethics.

Then, Mr. Cole debuted his innovative assignments. His class will spend the next 3 weeks using GPI news stories as models for how good journalism is made. As a class, they read aloud a story about Nyakatsi homes in Rwanda, written by Alexandrine Mugisha, GPI’s pilot reporter in Kigali. As the class talked about angles and thought about impact, I couldn’t stop thinking that today, everything was just as it should be.

Mr. Cole is an exceptional example of someone who really “gets GPI.” (And let's face it, not everyone does.) He understands the need for our work and he wants to use GPI as a vehicle to make his students more globally aware.

In April, the class will do a live video chat with 4 GPI reporters. They will meet face to face over oceans and countless cultural barriers. And our reporters will turn these concepts of “impact” and “awareness” into action. They will teach. They will inform. They will inspire.

There are days when few things seem to work in our favor.

And then there are days like today – when new members join the GPI family; when new advocates make an investment in our work; and when 40 7^th graders remind me that the value of our journalism is endless and the power of our reporters is unstoppable.

When our board of directors met in Healdsburg, CA last weekend for our first-ever Board Retreat, I began our meeting by sharing a host of our incredible success stories from our News Desks around the world.

As I told the stories of PI reporters using this opportunity to build their skills, keep from homelessness, provoke change on individual and social levels, one question came up time and again – Why weren’t these success stories being shouted from the rooftops?

When the topic of our new PR initiative came up a similar question emerged – Why weren’t we broadcasting our awards and honors? (I found myself in a bit of hot water for the lack of PR I did after being featured with the likes of Bill Clinton and Bono in Kenneth Cole’s 2009 book Awearness: 86 Essays from People Changing the World.)

And then there was the topic of this blog – “Is that going to be an annual entry?” wondered Jon, the newly elected board vice president (and my older brother.)

I had been called out.

For the last five years, I have built The Press Institute slowly, carefully, brick by brick, reporter by reporter, news desk by news desk, country by country. Together with our incredible network of reporters and editors, we have achieved extraordinary successes since our founding in March of 2006 – our reporter retention rate is 91%; our budget has steadily increased each year since our founding; our readership is making a mighty rise; and our programs are have become tools of change on many levels.

So, as I told our success stories, hailed PI reporters around the globe who have become serious agents of social change, and spoke of our bright future, the new board of directors, had one unanimous critique – not of the organization – of me.

It was agreed that an executive director, I am calculating, precise, smart, sleepless, safety-obsessed…and horrible at PR.

The truth is, they are right.

But really, I am thrilled by their complaint because it means 2 very important things – 1) The GPI board is dedicated to bringing us to the next level and 2) With all of our successes, it is clear that we are ready to be at that next level.

There is, however, something beautiful about being small. Over the last 5 years, our successes were measured, timely and happened in intentional stages. Often, our biggest WOW moments were shared only between myself and a reporter or editor over Skype.

The first time a local government policy changed because of one of our stories, I cried. But I did not write a press release.

When we won a Journalism Innovation award, I emailed my Dad, not the New York Times.

But this changes TODAY for one reason – We. Are. Ready.

To be frank, The Press Institute is amazing. It is an against-all-odds story of a brazen (but apparently not boastful) 25-year-old who founded an organization with one tiny goal – to change the face of international news. And as Michael Todd, an editor at Miller McCune magazine recently said, "The Press Institute fulfills the dream of citizen journalism."

And now that this 25-year-old (me) is all of 30, it takes my own breath away to realize that we are really doing it.

The Press Institute is built on a single premise that unfolds into an intricate diagram of social action. The premise is this – when trained, local women throughout the developing world are uniquely suited to use context-rich and solutions-based journalism as a tool for their own empowerment, their community’s development and worldwide awareness.

Our reporters are paid a strong local wage to tell balanced and responsible stories of under-reported and often taboo topics. The results of their work have been incredible and have likely impacted millions of people in one way or another.

In Kosovo, our newest pilot News Desk, the wages one reporter is now earning is keeping her from homelessness. The opportunity to be a professional GPI reporter is also bucking local trends, where nearly 60% of women are unemployed. In Nepal, our largest News Desk, 2 articles have received attention from members of Parliament and even the Prime Minister in the last six months. Policies and human rights laws are changing as a direct result of our work. Throughout all of our News Desks, the people featured in our news stories have received jobs, pro bono legal advice, and community support. Our regular readers in 160 countries write to us on a daily basis to thank us for their new, deeper perspective of the world, its people and cultures. And each and every one of our reporters is provoking change every time she goes out into her community to report a news story. She is proving that every woman is capable of being a literate leader.

And then there is me – “the man behind the curtain,” one US-based staffer calls me. I am so proud of each and every reporter and editor associated with the GPI. Every time a reporter sends in a pitch or a picture that makes me shiver, I am filled with an indescribable joy. This is my definition of journalism and it is living and breathing.

And it is time that I scream these successes from the rooftops because it is time for us to grow. It is time for the whole world to know about the incredible journalism we are producing. It is time for us to raise more money and more awareness. It is time that the triumphs stop belonging to just a few of us. Because, in truth, these successes belong to the world – the world that we are actively changing.

Oh, and yes. I promised to blog more often.