Carla Zanoni
Because as a journalist, I'm terrified that freedom of the press is at stake
I grew up in a household divided by political parties, my parents split by red and blue and a slew of other lines drawn in the sand. These divisions, and many others, may have ultimately contributed to their divorce, yet through it all, they remained united by one crucial belief: the importance of a free press.
My parents brought my brothers and me to the United States from Argentina to escape the growing tensions of what ultimately devolved into a civic-military coup d’état in 1976. Although I believe their interpretation of those last days in Buenos Aires may differ politically today, I know that in America they embraced all facets of journalism, even coverage they disagreed with, understanding that a diversity of voices is crucial to a robust democracy.
Newspapers were omnipresent in my childhood. After my parents split, my mother delivered them to pay our bills. I can see the dusty ink smudges on her fingers as we spread out the dollar bills from subscribers’ tips on her bed. We’d count the money, our voices rising and falling with laughter as we practiced reading articles into a small cassette recorder, the static of our recordings mixing with the weight of world events.
My father also worked several jobs when I was young, including selling newspapers at 7-Eleven, where he learned English while watching kids’ shows like Sesame Street on PBS. He would grill me on details from the daily paper, frustrated if I didn’t take it seriously and pleased when I did. Facts were important currency in his home.
And when I decided to study journalism, he told me he was proud of me and helped pay for my expensive grad school tuition, even as he and I grew politically farther and farther apart.
Throughout my career I’ve adhered to the principle of objectivity, carefully avoiding public displays of political allegiance. It’s a cornerstone of our profession, one that I’ve respected throughout my career. However, in this pivotal moment, I feel compelled to break my silence. My support for Kamala Harris transcends partisan politics; it’s a vote for the very foundation of our democracy—press freedom.
This decision isn’t made lightly. It comes in the face of a former president who has openly pledged to weaponize the regulatory state against media outlets whose coverage he dislikes—a chilling echo of the autocratic tactics my parents fled decades ago. To remain silent now, I believe, would be a dereliction of my duty as a citizen who understands the fragility of democracy.
As I cast my vote for Kamala Harris, I’m not just supporting a candidate. I’m honoring my family’s journey, preserving the values that brought us to this country, and safeguarding the power of truth-telling for future generations.
Because when we protect journalism, we protect the very essence of our democracy. And that’s a cause worth fighting for—one vote at a time.
Carla Zanoni is a journalist, poet, and memoirist.