In many ways, I don't think journalism is any different from

Stephanie Ruhle, a woman who has walked through the demanding worlds of finance, media, and family, once spoke with striking clarity: “In many ways, I don’t think journalism is any different from banking. And I don’t think that banking is any different from parenting.” These words, though at first they may sound unusual, are woven with wisdom. She reveals that all these great roles—journalism, banking, and parenting—though outwardly different, share the same core: responsibility, trust, and the duty to care for something larger than oneself.

The origin of this thought lies in Ruhle’s own life. She began her career in banking, moved into journalism, and all the while has carried the role of mother. Each sphere demanded something of her that was not so different after all. Banking required stewardship of other people’s wealth; journalism required stewardship of truth; parenting required stewardship of children’s lives. Each demanded vigilance, integrity, patience, and sacrifice. To fail in any of these realms is not merely to fail oneself, but to endanger those who depend upon you.

History affirms her vision. Consider the Medici bankers of Renaissance Florence, whose handling of money shaped the fate of cities and nations. Their responsibility was not merely arithmetic but trust itself. Or think of Ida B. Wells, the fearless journalist who risked her life to expose injustice, understanding that her words carried the weight of justice for countless voiceless people. And then, think of Abigail Adams, who guided her children with wisdom that shaped a president. Each, though they labored in different fields—finance, reporting, family—were united in the sacred task of stewardship, proving Ruhle’s words true.

There is also in her statement a recognition of the invisible thread of empathy that connects all human roles. To be a banker without empathy is to betray the trust of clients. To be a journalist without empathy is to wield words as weapons instead of light. To be a parent without empathy is to raise children in coldness instead of love. Ruhle shows us that all professions, at their heart, are human. They require not only skill but also character, not only knowledge but also compassion.

Her words rebuke those who imagine life can be divided neatly into compartments—work here, family there, truth-seeking in another place. In reality, the virtues required are the same. Integrity is not for one role and not another; patience is not needed in one sphere and forgotten in the next. The person you are in the office is the same person who comes home to the children, the same soul who bears witness to truth in society. To live divided is to live falsely; to live integrated is to live wisely.

The lesson here is profound: do not think your duties are separate, but see them as one. The values you practice in your career—responsibility, fairness, perseverance—are the same values that will guide you as a parent. And the love and humility you practice at home will make you stronger in your work. If you approach all of life with this wholeness, then you will not merely succeed in many roles—you will live one life of integrity, unified and strong.

Therefore, let Stephanie Ruhle’s words be remembered: “Journalism is no different from banking, and banking is no different from parenting.” These are not different worlds, but different faces of the same truth: that we are called to guard, to guide, to nurture, to be faithful stewards of what is entrusted to us. Whether it be money, truth, or children, the duty is the same. Approach it with reverence, live it with integrity, and let your life be one woven fabric, whole and unbroken.