Roula, de 16 años, y Fátima, de 14, vivían en el campo de refugiados palestinos de Yarmouk, ubicado en las afueras de Damasco, la capital de Siria.

Las dos amigas estudiaban para sus exámenes de noveno grado cuando el Estado Islámico invadió su área en 2013. El grupo terrorista—intentado establecer un califato en Irak, Siria y más allá—estableció rápidamente reglas estrictas que rigen la educación.

Los miembros de ISIS ordenaron separar a los niños de las niñas en la escuela, y prohibieron cualquier enseñanza contraria a su interpretación estricta del Islam.

Tambien ordenaron que las mujeres usaran túnicas largas y negras para cubrir su cuerpo.

Para garantizar el obedesimiento de estas reglas, el grupo castigó severamente — y en algunos casos decapitó — a cualquiera que se resistiera.

A pesar de estas duras condiciones, unas veinte niñas del campamento de Yarmouk continuaron su educación de una manera que iba en contra de los dictados de ISIS; Querían buscar una educación secularizada que las pudiera preparar para la universidad.

Ya que su escuela, creada y administrada por la Agencia de Socorro y Obras de las Naciones Unidas, fue destruida por morteros después de que ISIS tomara el poder.

Otra escuela se estableció alrededor de la ciudad de Yalda, en las afueras del sur de Damasco. Roula y sus amigas tuvieron que caminar 30 minutos desde Yarmouk para llegar a la nueva ubicación.

El viaje requirió que las niñas cruzaran un “punto de control de la muerte” controlado por ISIS en una vía estratégica. Cuando los combatientes de ISIS se lo preguntaron, mentirían sobre sus motivos de viaje, diciendo que iban de compras.

“En siete u ocho ocasiones nos obligaron a ver decapitaciones cuando ibamos a la escuela por la mañana,” dijo Roula. “Cuando volviamos por la tarde, los cuerpos decapitados colgaban de las cruces en el puesto de control. Todavia tengo pesadillas.”

Solo algunas niñas del grupo lograban cruzar una vez por semana, pasando de contrabando informacion que habian aprendido durante la escuela escrita en trozos de papel, los cuales llebaban escondidos en el pelo o debajo de sus tunicas con gran riesgo de ser detectadas, dijo un representante de UNRWA.

“Las chicas que lograban cruzar el punto de control para llegar a la escuela tomaba fotos de lo que apprendio en la pizarra o en los libros,” dijo Fatima. “Y luego, compartiamos estas imagenes por WhatsApp.”

Las chicas intentaban enviar la información que recopilaron a través de sus celulares a otras personas del grupo al otro lado del punto de control, pero la recepción irregular a menudo complicaba este plan.

Tenian que enviar la información por Internet y luego borrarla antes de volver al campamento porque ISIS inspeccionaba celulares.

Fátima explicó que tenían que arrastrarse hasta los techos y apuntar sus teléfonos al cielo para obtener una señal y enviar imágenes.

"Hubo bombardeos y francotiradores disparando contra nosotros. Me estremecía de miedo cuando enviaba fotos a mis compañeras de clase," dijo.

Una vez que se enviaban las imágenes, las que estaban en el extremo receptor memorizaban y copiaban la información, para que sus compañeras de clase pudieran eliminar las fotos y cruzar el punto de control de forma segura a Yarmouk.

Sin embargo, la operación no siempre fue facil.

"Una vez, [los combatientes de ISIS] encontraron una foto de un libro de texto en mi teléfono," dijo Roula. "Fui enviada a la cárcel por cuatro días, y mi padre por cinco".

Yarmuk, en un momento fue el mayor campo de refugiados palestinos en Siria, pero se ha visto una disminución en el número de refugiados que viven allí en los últimos años. Antes de que comenzaran los combates, los habitantes tenían acceso a servicios de atención médica y educación.

A principios del 2018, la lucha entre jihadistas de ISIS (incluido su afiliado de al-Qaida llamado Jabhat al-Nusra) y el régimen sirio dejó a Yarmuk en ruinas. Cientos de familias palestinas, incluida la de Roula, se reubicaron en Yalda.

La organización llamada UNRWA, que inicialmente proporcionó instalaciones y suministros escolares en Yarmouk, aseguró a las niñas que podrían realizar sus exámenes en Damasco.

Roula, junto con el 81,7 por ciento de los estudiantes de toda Siria en las escuelas administradas por la UNRWA, aprobó estos exámenes.

Dependiendo de cuán bien rindan los estudiantes en sus exámenes de noveno grado, pueden continuar sus estudios en una universidad, lo cual hace la mayoría de los refugiados palestinos.

Tambien pueden aprender una profesión en el Centro de Capacitación de Damasco, que ofrece a los refugiados 17 oficios diferentes.

Según el Alto Comisionado de las Naciones Unidas para los Refugiados, más de 5,3 millones de personas fueron registradas como refugiados en países vecinos a Siria el año pasado; aproximadamente el 48 por ciento de ellos tienen menos de 18 años.

La guerra civil en Siria esta en su octavo año y a causado al menos medio millon de muertes y desplazado approximadamente a 11 millones.

UNRWA estima que 47,000 estudiantes permanecen de los 76,000 antes de que comenzara el brutal reinado de ISIS. Durante el conflicto con el grupo jihadista, miles huyeron a Líbano, Jordania y Europa.

Un representante de UNRWA explicó que, si bien la generación más joven se ha visto traumatizada por la guerra en Siria, muchas, al igual que estas niñas, están más decididas que nunca a obtener una educación superior.

Han visto muertes y visto cómo se destruyen sus casas, sin embargo, creen que obtener una educación es vital porque no se les puede quitar.

ISIS ha sido derrotado, pero el conflicto sirio está entrando en su noveno año ya que la lucha continúa en varias partes del país, especialmente en los suburbios de Damasco, donde el gobierno ha estado avanzando en contra de las áreas controladas por los rebeldes.

Con medio millón de muertos y en medio de un desastre humanitario, pocos sirios dicen que prevén poder regresar a sus hogares.

Un vocero de UNRWA dijo que los profesionales con educación universitaria del país, como ingenieros, arquitectos y médicos, ya han huido del país.

El conflicto ya ha impedido que unos 2,8 millones de niños sirios continúen sus estudios.

“Algunos de estos niños nunca han asistido a la escuela, mientras que otros se han perdido al menos ocho años de aprendizaje, lo que hace que sea extremadamente difícil para ellos se pongan al tanto,” dijo Joe English, portavoz de UNICEF. “Es difícil exagerar la importancia de la educación para los niños sirios, ya que son los jóvenes quienes tienen la esperanza para un futuro mejor. Si no pueden recibir educación, hay pocas posibilidades de reconstruir el país.”

I normally prefer not to murder ants in cold blood, as I would not appreciate if a giant alien with physical power over me crushed my bones without reason. That all changed when I moved to a new apartment in Jerusalem two weeks ago.

During the first month of my stay, I settled in an Airbnb located in a hip neighborhood around the local outdoor market called Mahane Yehuda, or as locals call it, The Shuk.

After sundown, I would crack my tiny window to keep cool at night. Although this land is a desert, Jerusalem is built on hills and at night, the temperature drops enough to bundle up under the covers.

Except for a few days out of the week, The Shuk is vibrant and alive with youngsters hanging at the Argentinian and Mexican bars, Birth Right groups trying falafel and hummus and locals rolling a cigarette while discussing who-knows-what in their native languages of Hebrew or Arabic.

Each morning from Sunday to Thursday, I walk to the best juice shop in Jerusalem to buy a large cup of fresh squeezed ginger, beets, carrots, kale, apples and pears. Then, I continue my stroll for 20 minutes as I sip on my energy potion and eventually arrive to The Media Line office downtown, where I’m doing an internship.

The work week is different in Israel because it’s a Jewish state and the Jewish religion observes Shabbat, which is meant to keep the seventh day of the week (Friday afternoon to Saturday evening) holy.

During this time, the city shuts down and most people stay at home, enjoying family dinners and shunning technology. Those who don’t observe Shabbat flee to more secular cities for the weekend, most notably, Tel Aviv.

Living in a flat in a bustling area was enjoyable, but I decided to move on after an unpleasant experience with my host. I needed a place of my own, which brings me here — to tell the story of how I came to respect ants.

My new place is further out from the city center in a remote and tranquil area with a lot of critters.

At night I can hear the electric train honk in the distance and my neighbors quietly walking across my porch. Most glance inside to see what’s cooking in my kitchen through the large window I keep open in the living room.

I recently discovered that East Jerusalem, mainly inhabited by Palestinians, offers mangos at a fraction of the cost in most places, including The Shuk. My new mini refrigerator is stocked with at least 20, always. They are my favorite fruit so they never go bad.

I’m indulging in copious amounts now since import-export taxes have deprived me of it in Texas far too long.

Things can get sticky with ripe, sweet mangos. I slice one open every couple of hours for a snack. The other day, as usual, my hands were covered in mango juice. I decided to wipe them off with the last napkin I had and left it on my kitchen counter for recycling the next time I had a messy snack.

It was late, and the next time I would have a mango would be at breakfast 7 hours later. The napkin was left on the cut board, waiting for me to come back.

Each morning since I moved to the new aparment, I’ve adapted to a natural alarm system — AKA children cheerfully getting ready for school on the other side of my paper-thin walls.

It can be a good thing for days when I sleep through my four tech-powered alarms set at 6:49 a.m., 7:18 a.m., 7:47 a.m. and last call, 8:22 a.m.

Begrudgingly rubbing my right eye, I started making my way to the bathroom. Half-way to the shower, I stopped in the kitchen to boil water for my green tea. I was shuffing things to make room for breakfast. I lifted the mango napkin from the night before and there they were. Some 2,000 ants, marching in single file lines all over my counter.

Jumping to the thousands may be a slight exaggeration but honestly, I was heavily outnumbered and mortified.

A double shot of expresso couldn’t have woke me as much as that sight.

I said, “to heck with my moral values, I am drowning every single one of you in hot water.” It was a moment of desperation.

Almost with no remorse, I watched them slide away from my cooking sanctuary and dissapear into the kitchen drain.

I threw out the infamous mango napkin, which is to blame for that morning’s fiasco, and went about my day. From that day forward, I promised myself not to miss a single crumb.

Days later, I met up with friends and enjoyed the Croatia-England World Cup match over a couple of Paulaners.

When I got home, I did what I always do and got into comfortable clothes and in the midst, I noticed a small critter — struggling in the corner of the sink fauset. A closer look revealed it carried the corpse of another ant. Crawling out of the drain, there was another, doing the same thing.

My eyes widened and started scanning for signs of another invasion when I noticed a pile of ant corpses in the far left corner. “Well that was not there this morning.”

A second army of ants had somehow found the bodies I drowned and spent the day rescuing their remains from the drain. But how? It had been three days since the massacre and I had ran plenty of boiling sink water down the pipes. I scanned again. There were several live ants positioned over the dead ones, apparently mourning. I had taken away a son, a daughter.

“Is it possible for ants to mourn the death of a loved one? Can they feel love? After all, they work in tribes and are loyal to their queen, but that’s different. It’s possible.” Oddly fascinated, and feeling a bit (very) guilty, I did some research.

I found an article on the Huffington Post that addressed the question, “Can ants sense death?” It was answered through an experiment done by the world’s leading ant expert, E.O. Wilson.

“When an ant dies, the other ants don’t notice. At all. They walk around it as if it wasn’t there or was just an ant standing still. Three days later, they notice. If the ant is in the nest, another ant will pick up the corpse and toss it in the midden — the outdoor garbage dump or graveyard of the ant colony. Why three days? It takes that long for the ant to start decaying to the point where it releases oleic acid. This is the smell of rotten ant, and therefore ant death: until the ant reeks of it, no other ant will notice it has died.

Likewise, if something reeks of oleic acid, it is assumed to be a dead ant even if it isn’t. E.O. Wilson tested pieces of paper with oleic acid first, and they were disposed of. Then he tried taking live ants and coating them with oleic acid. As soon as they were in the nest, another ant would pick up the stinky one and throw it in the midden. The smelly ant didn’t resist, but would pick itself up and clean itself off before returning to the nest. If it didn’t do a thorough enough job, it would get thrown out in the trash again.”

Although, if you crush an ant, acid is immediately released, and all ants go in to frantic in fear of an attack.

I found out more about their queen and colonization habits, sometimes bullying other ants into giving up their resources. It’s an intense world. In the future, I will consider reporting on ant politics.

It was mid-December and around 85 degrees in Chiang Mai, Thailand. With no itinerary to follow, I set out to see temples after a late breakfast at Stamps Backpackers Hostel. I was to aimlessly stroll through the city until I saw at least three temples and return on-time for a cooking class at 6 p.m.

Distracted by shop-filled maze of narrow alleyways, only two temples made the cut. I wandered into the family-owned shops where one could buy anything from incense, to toys, to shoes, to goody bags filled with baked scorpions and beetles. In a shoe store, I saw a monk buy a pair of seemingly comfortable breezy sandals. Just for kicks, I got the same model and they were $10.

After two hours of wandering, I’d no idea where I was or how to get back to my hostel. That morning, I left knowing I would not have WiFi for directions, but I was sure I’d figure it out if I walked toward the city center, so I didn’t bother to download an offline map.

With exactly ninety minutes before the scheduled cooking class, the intuitive search continued.

At 330 Thapae Rd., I recognized a temple on the opposite side of the street. It was called Wat Ou Sai Kham, and it had been my first stop that morning. All I had to do was walk six or seven blocks straight, then make a right before eventually running into my hostel.

A familiar tune refocused my thoughts to the present. Cotton Fields by The Beach Boys was playing. It came from a wooden shop that I might have otherwise missed had the song not made me mindful of my surroundings.

I was immediately intrigued and quickly consumed by the unique nature of what seemed to be a civilized tree house. Branches graciously stuck out of windows and in just above the main entrance, there was a sign that read, “Can’t get lost if you don’t care where you are.”

I had stumbled upon everything I could hope for while exploring a distant land, and it was called John Gallery.

The shop was full of color-saturated impressions of temples, rivers, meteor showers, and black and white humble villages.

The vibrant paintings reminded me of the 1960s Hippie movement. Most of them had a positive saying or quote such as, “You may find yourself in another part of the world and you may ask yourself, ‘How did I get here?’” and “Life is a journey, not a destination.”

After scoping the entrance a bit to determine whether it was private property. To test the waters, I casually maneuvered inside, then looped back out, and back in. Three minutes passed and there was no one in sight.

Around the third loop into the space, I met the genuine eyes of a man with a calming smile. He walked up to meet me, abandoning his counter. Camouflaged in his own art, he stood in front of a uniquely twisted tree trunk adorned with bells and other metal trinkets.

“Hello, how are you?” he said.

“Hi. I’m good, how are you?” I said.

“Very good. Take a look around. This is my work,” Monoon ushered with his hands. “You can go upstairs.”

The wooden shop was a maze of rooms made up of small passageways and cubby holes adorned with art. There were cups and stones; each one embellished with gold acrylics to depict Buddhist symbols.

The walls and ceilings were covered with many years worth of photographs that customers mailed to John after they returned home.

There were pinned business cards on one wall, and multinational cash currencies left behind by travelers on another.

“Walking into the John Gallery is like walking through the wardrobe into Narnia,” said Mike Morrison, a customer who reviewed the place on Facebook. “It’s like finding a magical place you can’t see enough of. John has clearly spent years turning this space into an extension of himself and it’s pretty wondrous to visit.”

Monoon started building the house in 1980, but he never stopped. He continues to expand it and add more art. “Every day, slowly,” he said. “From the first beginning until now.”

“I made everything. I have this shop for 38 years now.” He laughed after he saw my surprised expression then said, “I just do it. Never studied.”

While walking around the gallery, I read John’s paper brochure. It described him as a free spirited man whose art was inspired by the 1960’s hippie style. I looked up and listened. I’ve Been Everywhere by Johnny Cash was playing. It made sense.

His specialty was acrylics on cotton. Although he didn’t get a formal education, he taught himself and focused on selling to westerners.

John admitted it was a tough first 10 years before he established a good customer base in “America, Japan, and lately China.”

“People come in every day from all over the world,” John said. “I used to sell these paintings in Long Island, New York and Santa Cruz. My family live in America, so they help me.”

In 10 years, John created over 100,000 interpretations of 20th century abstract and cubist pieces. Some he made in under five minutes.

Over the years, his art has touched thousands of people. Some in more drastic ways than others.

A young backpacker named Chiharu Tanikawa discovered John Gallery some time ago. John said she intently stared at the painting with the written quote, “ Life is a journey, not a destination.”

After chatting with Monoon for a while, the economics student “decided to stay for a while and become a painter too.” Later, she told John her parents were shocked.

Thirty-eight years ago, John only knew that he wanted to paint and just did it. The journey has been his success. One day, his only son will carry on and continue to build his legacy.

Fabricated information intended to skew the perception of readers is fake news. More recently, the label is attached to any news story that enforces ideas that are not our own.

False news — in politics, business, science and technology — travel faster and reach more people on social media than true news, according to researchers at Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

Relatability and strong emotional reactions are huge factors in fake news distribution. It takes seconds to retweet or share an article on Facebook, and readers often don’t check for accuracy before doing so.

A friend sent me a link to an article about Elon Musk buying out Facebook. It turned out to be an April Fools joke, but it is a prime example of how fast fake news can spread.

It could have been true, as Elon recently tweeted about his views towards the #deletefacebook movement in light of the Cambridge Analytica scandal. My rule of thumb is, if a story induces an extreme reaction, verify it.

So what’s the problem?

The press is the only profession mentioned in the U.S constitution. It is crucial for our democratic society to function.

Without trust in the media, democracy dies.

“Some polarization is healthy, even necessary, for democracy. But extreme polarization can kill it. When societies divide into partisan camps with profoundly different worldviews, and when those differences are viewed as existential and irreconcilable, political rivalry can devolve into partisan hatred,” wrote Harvard political scientists Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt.

Is there something I can do?

Verifying information is just as important for news consumers as it is to media outlets. Here are some pointers to help make any reader a news literate.

1. Do a visual assessment for high quality. Does it have a lot of annoying ads? Poor design or low quality images?
2. Identify the news outlet. If you haven’t heard of it, do some research.
3. Check the web domain. Many fake sites end with “.com.co” or “.lo” Real site: abcnews.com fake site: abcnews.com.co
4. Check “About Us” section.
5. Identify the author of the article. Does it have one? If so, are they well known and respected?
6. Identify the central message. Does it lean to one side, have an angry tone, or make outrageous claims?
7. Assess spelling, grammar, and punctuation.
8. Analyze sources and quotes. Does it site any? Are they anonymous?
9. Find other articles on the same topic. If you can’t find any, the story may be fake.
10. Go to independent fact checker websites such as Snopes, PolitiFact, and FactCheck.org

What are news outlets doing about fake news?

Transparency is key.

The Economist, Facebook, Google, The Washington Post and Twitter are among several participants in the Trust Project, which has set standards to disclose who produced a story, what expertise they have, and whether the publisher has an agenda.

Victoria Elizondo is a dreamer, both in her pursuit to be an entrepreneur, and under the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals policy. She was born in Monterrey, Mexico, but she came into the United States when she was 13 years old. Now she is 27, and works hard daily to make her vision of opening her own restaurant a reality.

Victoria has tan skin, wavy dark brown hair, and carries herself with confidence. She is independent, and that is not news for the people who have known her since she was a kid.

“I used to make a computer out of cardboard boxes and pretend like I was a business woman,” she said. “I would go to the park and sell chocolates. In Mexico you can do that. I sold jewelry for a while. I did my own social media business for a bit, too.”

She did not have to do any of those things to make a living, she just enjoyed it.

Growing up, however, Victoria’s mother worked in kitchens out of necessity. At home, Victoria enjoyed trying the final product of her mom’s dish inventions.

Victoria has been interested in the food industry since she can remember, but it was not until she worked as a waitress at a fine dining Peruvian restaurant in Houston, that she was inspired by Chef Roberto Castre to be in the kitchen.

“He was very passionate about his food and his culture,” she said. “Peruvian food was not very recognized in the US, so he was working really hard to represent his culture.”

Victoria started to consider her own roots. She said Houston mainly offers Tex Mex and people here don’t really know about real Mexican food. Authentic places such as, Hugo’s and Cuchara, offer experiences closer to fine dining. She wanted to stray away from that atmosphere, and show people a different side of Mexico.

Her first kitchen job was at State of Grace. She said she was slow and naive at first, but she learned a lot.

She was inspired to launch her own business by her mother and Chef Roberto Castre.

For the last two years, she has been managing her catering and pop up “fonda” called Cochinita & Co. around Houston.

Cochinita and Co. specializes in Mexican “guisos,” in which food is slow cooked in a pot full of different ingredients and aromatic spices — the kind that makes you feel like you are at home.

“My recipes do not come from my grandma, mom or “tias” (aunts),” she said. “My inspiration grew from how much I wanted to feel like I still belonged to a country I left while I was still very young. So, I bought books, and browsed the internet.”

As a dreamer, Victoria does not feel entitled to be allowed to stay in the United States.

“Do I deserve it? Yes.” she said. “Do I want to work hard for it? Yes. I might have come here with my plan to work and succeed, be a business woman and help the country, but I know that is not the case with everyone.”

Although she would rather work for her status in the U.S. rather than sit back and demand it, Victoria admitted she would be thankful if there came a day that offered dreamers a sort of citizenship or residency agreement.

“If it happens, great, if it doesn’t, it is not going to stop me from anything,” she said. “Of course it makes me nervous. I want the opportunity to be here in the U.S., but at the same time it doesn’t take my sleep at night because I know that wherever I go, I’m still going to succeed.”

She wanted to make it clear that she was not doing anything extraordinarily difficult like many perceive.

“All it takes is vision, and if you fail, do it again,” she said. “Some people are O.K. working 8–5 or having a boss. I have an opinion about everything, I am hard headed, and I don’t like being told what to do, so I took the bad, and turned it into something good.”

After a long search, she has found great investors who believe in her. Now she is not only motivated to succeed for herself, but for them, too.

Victoria is happy having her pop up events for the time being. She already has regulars rooting for her.

A woman walked up to her tent, which was set up at Liberty Station in The Heights. She looked at the menu items written on a black board, which included three taco specials, cochinita, mole and vegan. Victoria crossed out cochinita just minutes before the woman, named Pam, arrived.

“Does this mean you are out of the cochinita tacos?” Pam said.

“It’s good to see you again, yes…” Victoria smiled apologetically and then she turned her head back to her colleague as if seeking reassurance.

Lucky for Pam, her partner opened the pot up to show there was a small amount of slow roasted pork.

“We can make one. We have one left.” Victoria said.

“O.K., I will take the last one.” said Pam.

The loyal customer ordered the one cochinita, two chicken, and a vegan taco.

“It’s $14” Victoria said.

“How is the restaurant?” Pam asked as she pulled cash from her purse.

“It’s…It’s comin.” Victoria hesitated.

“It always takes longer than you think it is going to.” said Pam.

“I’m just happy to be putting on my events.” Victoria said.

Cochinita & Co. is expected to open soon on Richmond Ave. and Chimney Rock Rd.

Prominence is influence and it is no secret that The New York Times and The Washington Post have some of the highest circulations in the United States.

Both companies embraced the technological revolution and adapted a successful social media strategy in which they show case their individual cultures to continue attracting the readers they would on more traditional mediums.

Loyal readers of The Washington Post will be quickly captivated by the snippets of Trump speeches and Florida shooting follow-ups on their Instagram page.

Proximity to the White House and their philosophy of, “Democracy dies in Darkness,” are both factors to the prominent coverage of politics, further establishing and spreading their brand.

Only occasionally straying away, recent examples of soft news on their page include Thailand’s celebration of Makha Bucha Day and Holi festivities in India.

Compared to The New York Times, The Post has lower numbers in terms of followers, following, total posts, and story highlights.

Based in New York, The Times has a culture largely focused on arts and diversity, both as crucial as breathing to some New Yorkers.

Their Instagram stands out with bright colors and artistic photos, often featuring people who tell their stories as part of a large-scale crisis or conflict.

The man with dark and grey hair and a beard on the NYT Instagram, is the most prominent leader in Venezuela’s opposition. It’s not exactly a serious photo and it’s followed by a concice description to share his current political struggles.

By this time, most millennials have found that it can be difficult to keep a social life without social media. Especially in the U.S. In my experience, Europeans are more inclined to engage face-to-face. They take pride in this lifestyle of living in the present— without pulling their iPhone out for pictures, snaps, tweets, or facebook scrolls and updates.

As journalists however, we must avidly sharpen our skills and find (or develop because we are smart like that) tools for each platform. We have to keep up with Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, or WeChat if you are in China.

I recently analyzed Jonathan Feigen, a sports reporter for the Houston Chronicle and avid tweeter. He covers the NBA, with a focus on the Houston Rockets. With his team on fire this season, Jonathan has A LOT to keep up with and live tweet it, which as it turns out, is not very easy to do. Here are some hacks I learned from observing Jonathan that can help you get the best Tweetsperiance you can.

1.Don’t go radio silence

Tweet like a tweeter. That is, three times per day. You should keep your followers informed on projects you are working on, books you are reading, or interesting things you see day to day.

2. Engage and retract

Reply to comments on your tweets and answer questions people may have. This is particularly important, otherwise you may come off as rude or uninterested. If you notice a troll persists in making negative comments without giving room for any real debate, simply like it and move on. You will never win. Also, retweeet people in your field.

3. Start conversations

You should be a network for your followers. Pose a question or fact that invites others to share their ideas and thoughts. Make a poll while you’re at it.

4. Relax, be you

Don’t be a robot. Talk like you would if you were speaking to a friend. Just use proper punctuation. Depending on the type of Journalism you are pursuing, perhaps avoid heavy curse words.

5. Birds like pictures, too.

Photos are not just for Instagram and Facebook. Include relevant media to accompany your short description. Humans are visual creatures and are likely to gravitate towards aestheticly pleasing things.

Chris Murphy — the owner of a fair-trade art shop called Corazon — is going out of business after the landowner sold the property he rents for $500,000 last year. The shop will be demolished to make way for townhomes.

A metal shack with rainbow letters at the corner of Waugh Dr. and Fairview St. has been home to a unique folk art mainly from Mexico, Guatemala, El Salvador, and Peru since 1998.

Walls are covered in luchador masks, which professional Mexican wrestlers use as part of their in-ring persona. There were also maracas, colorful animal sculptures, and Mexican puppets occupying some shelves.

At the counter inside the century old building, a Realtor and Murphy discussed potential places to relocate his prized possessions, but there was nothing on the list he had not already seen.

“This has been so cool, being in this building all these years,” Murphy said to the Realtor. “It’s a shame to see it torn down. Now, all I have is the end of March.”

The landowner offered to sell the property to Murphy a few years ago, but he could not afford it. He thinks about that a lot now that he is having a difficult time finding another place for his business. He said that was the beginning of the end.

The man who sold the property needed cash, and someone was willing to pay him half of a million dollars for the corner, leaving Murphy with no choice but to get out.

Longtime customer Ja’Nee Barton discovered Corazon when she looked for a hat to wear for Burning Man 14 years ago. Murphy’s knowledge about fair-trade and his dedication to spreading the word about loving the planet kept Barton coming back.

“This store is yet another quirky Montrose business that is closing its doors to make way for the cookie-cutter development of our new, gentrified, inner city,” Barton said.

On average, a person will pay $1,889 per month for an apartment in Montrose, which is now considered to be one of the most expensive zip codes in Texas, according to a report from rental website RentCafe.

Murphy hopes to find a new building and save the dying trade of making and selling folk art. There is less demand and production and fewer ways to make a living . He said nothing about the way our world is evolving into technology dependence is helping his business.

He embraced the Internet when he built a website for his merchandise. Murphy’s online sales peaked between 2012–2013. It was easy for him to naturally pop up on a Google search if people searched for folk art, but he said Google was lost as a shopping portal when Amazon and social media exploded and took over.

He reminisced about a pre-tech era. Before trailed maps were instantly available to everyone, Murphy researched Latin American villages in the library to find the best art. He loved the mystery and treasures waiting to be found.

“I have this whole big grudge against getting on social media. Nevertheless, I know that — here is the thing — If I want to survive doing this and protect these crafts that I’m so in love with, well, I should probably go on and render unto Caesar and do what they (the tech lords) say and get with the program.”

The first feature to apply is defog. I have an iphone 5s and the camera quality is not up to par with more recent generations. This feature gives my photos a defined and vibrant look. A minimal brightness adjustment and voila, I have people asking what camera I use. It lets users create sublte, high quality edits as opposed to Instagram filters, which are often too noticable.

Journalistic perks:

• aesthetic, accurate photos for credibility and audience engagement
• Direct social media share option

2. iMovie

With no previous producing experience, this app taught me the basics of video editing. You can trim and arrange multiple videos as well as add images and audio. There are title options, speed control, and transitions. It is flexible so it lets users create something from scratch. This can be a downfall if you are looking for a quick, standard layout.

Journalistic perks:

• Enables you to tell an in-depth, compelling story
• Direct social media share option

3. Instagram

Millions use Instagram daily. This is an ideal platform to give your followers a sense of who you are, and what you stand for. Visuals capture interest, context keeps it. More recently we’ve seen an increase in targeted marketing, but it is not as overwhelming as Facebook. Which is probably why the same photo gets less likes on FB vs. IG even with a comparable amount of friends and followers. Here, it is more likely for your community to come across your posts.

Journalistic perks:

• Posts are not easily buried in shared videos and ads
• Discover feature and hashtags for crowdsourcing

Digital natives are used to fast-delivering, mobile news. Fast-growing technology means fast-evolving lifestyles. Yes, print may die, but journalism will not.

We spend a lot of our time living in a virtual reality called social media. It is a new way of documenting our life, publicaly. Nearly 70 percent of smartphone owners use their phone to take and share pictures, videos, or commentary about events in their commmunity, 35 percent do so frequently, according to the Pew Research Center.

Journalists are not exempt. It is now part of most reporter’s job description to capture and produce visual content and immediately upload it to Twitter, Instagram, Facebook or Snapchat with a concise description of events. This is commonly done to get breaking news out before other news sources. It could be considered a preview to a more detailed follow-up article.

Content should be engaging, interactive, and especially mobile-friendly. We have become extremely impatient, and want information at our fingertips within milliseconds. If a page does not load within the expected time frame, we simply move on.

User-generated content can inspire story ideas. Anyone with a computer and internet can post, but not everyone can be a journalist. Extra consciousness and fact-checking skills are required to determine if something is newsworthy.

Social listening is now highly valued in the field. A good journalist should know what their niche audience is talking about and what they want to read. What problems do the people want addressed? “Journalism is now a conversation rather than a lecture,” as Anthony Adornato writes in his practical guide for Mobile and Social Media Journalism.

“Washington Post reporter, covering President Trump’s businesses and conflicts of interest. Tips? Fahrenthold@washpost.com” David Fahrenthold displays on his Twitter bio. He is responsive, authentic, and consistent with his audience. All three, essential in modern reporting success.

In 2017, he won a Pulitzer Prize — the highest national honor in newspaper journalism, literary achievements, and musical composition — for pioneering a new form of investigative reporting.

He transparently published his handwritten notes and reports and invited the social media public to contribute. Fahrenthold used a technique called crowdsourcing, a huge digital-age perk to gather information. What differentiated him was that he built trust by allowing people to see how the investigation unfolded.

Fahrenthold is efficient yet reliable, and with the fake news culture, accuracy trumps speed.