I grew up caught between two worlds: the Sudanese culture my parents poured into our home and the American culture waiting right outside our door. For a long time, I felt like I didn’t fit anywhere. In Sudan, where I spent summers, I was the American cousin with the funny accent who couldn’t read Arabic. In the U.S., I was the Sudanese girl whose name and culture needed constant explaining. (I can’t count the times I had to explain where Sudan was.) It wasn’t until later that I started to see something special in the in-between space I occupied: sitting on that hyphen. A space full of stories about navigating identity and seeking belonging. And when I got into radio journalism, it was like finding a missing piece of me — a bridge that would take me to that sense of belonging.
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Here was this medium that could hold all the complexity of not only my identity, but also that of others who felt like me. As I interviewed people, with every conversation, I would realize more and more that this was work that was about connecting people. As I reported on stories about immigrant family life, Black identity, African diasporans, Muslim women, and the cultural richness and resilience of ‘feet in two world’ communities, every story felt like it brought me closer to understanding myself.
I love that UC Berkeley has a whole institute called ‘Othering and Belonging.” Its director, Dr. john powell, says “Belonging is the ability to show up fully in the world as who you are, without fear of exclusion, and to know that you matter.”
That’s what audio journalism has done for me.
It has this unique power to foster belonging in a way that other forms of media simply can’t. Unlike visual media, which often emphasizes our differences- our appearances, our backgrounds, or our circumstances — audio cuts through all that- cutting through the surface and takes us directly to the heart of a story. Whether it’s a podcast, a radio story, an audio book, or an oral history, audio brings us into each other’s worlds in a way that nothing else can. It sparks empathy and helps us see each other’s humanity.
Okay, yes, I love audio, so I may be biased, but you may think there’s something magical about hearing someone’s voice in your ear, telling you a story. It breaks down barriers and connects us on such a deep level. In a world full of distractions, audio makes us stop — and listen.
When we hear someone’s voice on the radio, we don’t just listen to their words; we feel their emotion, their tone, the rise and fall of their breath. It’s as though we’re sitting right next to them, sharing in their experience. There’s an intimacy in this aural moment that creates an immediate connection — one that transcends barriers and draws us closer together. Suddenly, you feel closer to that enterprising mother in Zimbabwe, or that innovative teen in Argentina.
When we hear a voice crack with emotion or joyfully explain a cultural concept to the audience, we hear not just a story, but the raw, human experience behind it. Those sounds of struggle, laughter, and resilience are the sounds of belonging—of shared humanity. They remind us that, no matter where we come from, we are all connected at the core.
One term I’ve always taken issue with is when people describe marginalized communities as being ‘voiceless’ — advocacy campaigns and even journalism organizations who are proud to be “giving voice to the voiceless”.
These communities are not voiceless.
They have a voice. We just haven’t been hearing them on the radio.
Audio journalism creates belonging when it is seeking out the voices of those unheard communities. When it gives them the space to tell their stories in their own words, on their own terms, without the filter of a reporter’s interpretation or judgment. Through their voices, they belong.
I love hearing accents and dialects in my stories, I believe in leaving in the part of the tape where the person is speaking in their own language — without a voiceover. To me, that is empowering work. Work that fosters belonging. Work that shows everyday folks that, no matter what they look or sound like, they matter — and will be heard as they are.
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When we truly listen, we’re walking alongside people in their joys and their struggles, their ordinary and extraordinary moments. This kind of deep, judgment-free listening helps us break down stereotypes and build understanding. And that’s the beauty of audio: it can be a thread that ties us all together, weaving us into a tapestry of shared stories and experiences.
Through my work, I’ve seen how audio helps build bridges. Conversations that I have on air- whether it’s about culture, education, health, identity, or migration — have sparked conversations in the community. Listeners reach out to say how they connected with a story, or how it made them reconsider their own views. It’s in these moments of connection that I see the power of audio journalism. The work isn’t done when the mic is off. The real impact happens when the story lingers in the listener’s mind, when they have a ‘driveway moment,’ sparking empathy and maybe even action.
And, as we look ahead to 2025, I know it’s going to be a tough year for so many of us who live at cultural intersections. There will be much ‘othering.’ The incoming administration’s rhetoric and policies are already signaling challenges that will test our communities. That’s why now, more than ever, we need to lean into compassion. We need to invite people into our communities, even those who don’t fully understand us yet.
Belonging isn’t just a nice idea — today, it’s a necessity. Through our work, we try to create spaces where people feel seen and valued. Because at the end of the day, isn’t that what we all want? To be part of a community that celebrates who we are.
So, what if we all took a little more time to listen — really listen — to the voices and stories of those around us?
What if we leaned into empathy and curiosity, letting those stories guide us toward building deeper connections?
The world needs it, and so do we.
Now’s the moment for it.
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This piece was brought to you by KALW Speaks, a monthly series of essays from KALW staff and contributors, exploring the ideas that drive our work. Each of these essays reflect our commitment to innovation and invites you into a deeper conversation about the future of public media.
Learn more: From A Whisper To A Roar.
