On Minnesota and Hope

I'm back in Chicago this week, and going over my notes from the IMM TravMedia Summit & Conference I attended last week in New York.

For so many years, the industry I work in–travel media–has operated like a black box. If you weren't already on the inside, it was hard to know how it worked or how to break in.

And while that's changing now (for example, more publications than ever before have put up clear pitching guidelines online), much of how the industry operates is still shrouded in mystery.

This February, I'm going to uncover this mystery with a comprehensive, clear, step-by-step masterclass that I'm teaching live.

If you've ever wondered how travel storytelling can become a bigger part of your life, if you dream of going to places around the world on assignments, this is your chance: book your masterclass ticket here.

In four sessions, I'll distill 10 years of industry knowledge into actionable steps to kickstart your career in the travel industry.

You'll walk away with a clear understanding of how travel media works, where you fit, and how you can start traveling today.

Book a $147 class pass to attend all four sessions or choose a $55 single-session ticket to access a standalone session of your choice.

⭐ Class Pass ticket holders also get a portfolio review + their own publishing roadmap with actionable next steps on entering the industry ⭐

⭐ Our paid members get 10% off any ticket (become a member here to get your discount code) ⭐

We start on February 7th.

xx Yulia

Inside Going Places 🏠

The latest stories

Imani Bashir is a travel journalist and activist who was a guest on our show two seasons ago.

She is currently in Minnesota, standing with the people of Minneapolis as she provides live coverage of the brutal, deadly ICE occupation of the city and the people's resistance to it.

In our interview, Imani talked about our work in the travel space and how travel can be a pathway to empathy for 'the other.'

Take a listen to our chat here.

What Is Intersectional Travel?

A Black Muslim journalist reflects on becoming a global citizen.

Going PlacesYulia Denisyuk

Paid Members Corner 🚀

This week's creator opportunities

🚀 A five-month fellowship for emerging writers – apply by Sat, Jan 31

🚀 A €5,000 photo contest by Hasselblad – enter by Sat, Feb 28

🚀 A $5,000 grant for your photo storytelling project – apply by the deadline of Sun, Mar 15

🚀 Fodor's is seeking travel stories – rolling deadline

🚀 A remote trip consultant role for a Seattle-based tour operator – no deadline

🚀 A call for pitches on food, history, and culture from The Juggernaut – no deadline

🚀 This publication pays $6,000 per story – no deadline

🚀 Michelin Guide is hiring a video lead – no deadline

Find all the latest opportunities here.

Travel With Us ✈️

In The World 🌍

What is hope, really?

Are you also experiencing an ever-deepening case of cognitive dissonance?

It started with Gaza two years ago, when most of the world saw the Israeli army's atrocities on their feeds. We witnessed a genocide (PBS News) as we continued to shop for groceries, show up for work, make dinner for our children, and gather with friends for drinks.

For me, this feeling of cognitive dissonance has only intensified since then.

And I'm not the only one.

Some could argue that we are experiencing cognitive dissonance on a planetary scale (Psychology Today).

Add to that:

• the feeling of isolation, despair, and helplessness
• coupled with the bystander effect and the diffusion of responsibility ("I don't have to act because others are doing something")
• the need to survive and cover your bills and expenses in the ever-tightening grip of late-capitalism ("this doesn't concern me")

and it's easy to feel like we're, well... doomed.

Looking for hope, that antidote to despair, I turn again and again to what Aziz Abu Sarah said on our podcast:

Hope is an action.

Hope is believing that your individual action, however small or seemingly insignificant, can make a difference.

Hope is being fueled by the action of others.

Hope is reminding ourselves that we are bound by each other.

Hope is worth fighting for.

That's why hundreds of thousands of people marching in Minnesota's frigid cold this weekend in a statewide strike against ICE is an act of hope.

That's why literary agents and editors using their platform to change the world with stories is an act of hope.

That's why Jewish journalists reporting on the settlers in the West Bank is an act of hope.

I also love the way bell hooks saw hope:

"Hope is essential to any political struggle for radical change when the overall social climate promotes disillusionment and despair."

When you start looking for it, the act of hope is everywhere.