texas-moody

Displaced journalists must adapt to new culture, language, climate, and even a different color of the sky, says Luz Mely Reyes of Venezuela

“Exile is like getting divorced while still in love,” said Luz Mely Reyes, Venezuelan journalist and director and co-founder of the digital media outlet Efecto Cocuyo, during the opening keynote session of the 18th Ibero-American Colloquium on Digital Journalism.

Reyes said this phrase quoting Venezuelan journalist Cesar Miguel Rondón, who was part of her investigation "Te tienes que ir" (You have to go), which focused on the situation of Venezuelan journalists who have been forcibly displaced and have lived in the United States since 2015.

For this report, Reyes interviewed 10 journalists: six women and four men, ranging in age from 30 to 70. All worked in Venezuelan print media, radio, television or digital media.

Some have continued to practice their profession, while others have had to take on other jobs outside of communications to survive. However, all agree that their flight from Venezuela is due to restrictions on journalism in the country, violations of freedom of expression and violations of the right to information.

Some left due to lawsuits, others due to revocation of their passports, persecution or physical threats. 

“Sometimes people think journalists move around just because they feel like it,” Reyes said. “No, these journalists, and many other journalists, don't leave our countries because we want to. We leave because they tell us, ‘You have to go.’”

Although it has been difficult for her to accept, Reyes is also one of the more than 7.8 million Venezuelans living outside the country, the second largest displacement in the world.

And the last 26 years in Venezuela, she said, have been the script used by authoritarians around the globe to corner independent journalism.

“Between 2015 and 2016, there was a movement in Venezuela that we call the spring of digital media. It was beautiful,” said Reyes, referring to the boom in the creation of independent digital media in Venezuela. The outlet she directs, Efecto Cocuyo, was founded at that time.

“But winter has come. Not only because of the funding issue and the end of international philanthropy, but also because the model has reached its expiration date and new experiments are needed,” she said.

In its 2024 Annual Report, “The Captive Press: Terror, Silence, Imprisonment and Exile,” the Venezuelan Press and Society Institute documented that last year alone, 22 journalists were forcibly displaced, 14 press workers were detained, and at least 40 journalists and human rights activists had their passports revoked.

Reyes said that in Venezuela, the regime has bombarded the journalism industry, leaving no room for young and more experienced journalists to mutually enrich each other. Furthermore, the collapse of business models combined with the emergence of technology has been a perfect storm for the sector.

Likewise, Reyes highlights the resilience of Venezuelan journalists, who, despite difficulties, have tried to continue doing journalism through journalistic collaborations and international alliances such as La Hora de Venezuela.

 

Descielados 

 

Reyes' investigation revealed that journalists experience different types of grief when they are displaced to other countries: adapting to a new culture, a new language, a different climate and even a different color of the sky.

“In Caracas, in December, the sky is Pantone 300. A beautiful blue that makes anyone who visits Venezuela fall in love with its luminosity,” she said. “That's why we say that instead of being exiled, we're descielados (de-skyed). Even though it's a made-up word, it defines that we're left without a sky.”

The journalist also highlighted the possibility of replicating this type of investigation among different diasporas. She emphasized that migration is a growing trend and mentioned communities in El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras and Colombia that have been forced to leave their countries.

Reyes concluded her speech with the following reflection: "If leaving is like getting divorced when you're in love, I imagine that if I return free, it's like reuniting with the love of my life. And the love of my life is Venezuela."