It was an object simple and common, innocuous. Something a kid can use without fear and must do it to learn and play. But for many years it exposed me to dangers, anger and attempts to manipulation among other things: my notepad.
During those years, when I took out my notebook from my bag in the middle of an event, or during a trial, or during a violent demonstration, everybody recognised my condition of a reporter.
Some of the people involved were no precisely thrilled with the idea of appear in the papers, so they often showed their anger against the journalist. Me.
I have been threatened to death by the family of two convicted killers, almost hit with a molotov cocktail by a vandal during a riot, and the family of a defendant came to punch me after a trial to convince me to don’t write about it.
These are some of the situations I’ve got myself exposed when I showed my notepad in conflicting environments.
Obviously the problem was not the notepad. The problem was my profession. Sometimes being a reporter is not so easy.