While journalists cannot right every wrong, champion every cause

The words of Regina Brett stand as a hymn to the quiet but enduring power of the written word: “While journalists cannot right every wrong, champion every cause or fix every problem, they can – through the written word – lift someone's burden for a day, make some elderly woman on a bus smile or let them know they are noticed by someone.” In these lines, she reminds us that even when human strength cannot mend the world in full, it can still illuminate the small corners of darkness, and in those small gestures lies a greatness of its own.

The task of the journalist is often seen as lofty—to expose corruption, to reveal truth, to hold the mighty accountable. Yet Brett shifts our gaze to the softer, more intimate victories: not the toppling of empires, but the lifting of spirits; not the rewriting of history, but the acknowledgment of one forgotten soul. For to make an elderly woman smile on a bus is no less a triumph than to expose injustice, for in that smile is the reminder of dignity, of humanity, of worth.

The ancients knew this truth well. Consider the Greek historian Herodotus, who sought not merely to record the wars and the deeds of kings, but also the small tales of ordinary men and women whose lives gave color to the grand story. His work reminds us that history is not built solely upon the shoulders of generals, but upon the countless unnamed individuals whose struggles and joys make up the fabric of human life. In the same way, Brett’s words honor the noticing of those who might otherwise pass unseen.

The written word has always carried this dual power—to shape nations and to heal hearts. When Anne Frank, hidden in her attic, poured her thoughts into her diary, she did not end the war, nor stop the violence. Yet her words, simple and human, have lifted countless souls for generations, giving hope, courage, and perspective. Though she could not right every wrong, she touched hearts across centuries. That is the power Brett speaks of: the quiet, enduring triumph of words that reach the unseen.

It is tempting in our age to believe that only great victories matter, that to be meaningful we must solve enormous problems. But Brett reminds us that there is heroism in the small mercies. A story that makes someone smile, a sentence that eases loneliness, a paragraph that whispers to a weary heart, “You are not invisible”—these are victories the world cannot measure, yet they are the victories that keep humanity alive.

The lesson is profound: do not underestimate the power of small kindnesses. Whether through writing, through speaking, or through the daily acts of life, we each carry the ability to lift another’s burden, even for a moment. Great change may be slow, and the world’s sorrows heavy, but if we can lighten one heart, then our labor has not been in vain.

Therefore, let us act with intention. Let us write, speak, and live in ways that notice others, that honor the unseen, that give smiles where the world has given only silence. For though we may not fix every wrong, we can leave behind traces of light. And when those traces join together, they form the path by which humanity continues to walk forward.

Carry forward Regina Brett’s wisdom: “They can lift someone’s burden for a day… or let them know they are noticed by someone.” Let it remind you that greatness is not only in changing nations, but in touching a single soul. For the true measure of our lives lies not in the battles we win, but in the light we leave in others, however small, however fleeting—and in that light, eternity remembers us.