When taff writer Mark Puente of The Marshall Project found himself blocked from entering a public courtroom, his instincts—and principles—kicked in. “This guy just thinks he’s gonna tell me to get lost, and I go away. Well, I’m not going away,” he said. Puente’s response wasn’t just about access; it was about accountability. “I wasn’t gonna leave. And if they would’ve told me to leave or ‘We don’t want problems,’ I would’ve quit my job that day because I believe that we have a mission, and the public has a right to know.”
The decision to stand firm was rooted in experience and a clear sense of duty. “I—as soon as I was told I couldn’t go in and once I got in that side room, I immediately called my boss,” he recalled. “So the support was there. He notified his boss, and they never once said leave.”
Not backing down, but staying respectful
Puente’s approach to confrontation is deliberate and disciplined. While some might react emotionally to being denied access, he chose professionalism. “I was very polite. I’m a professional. I was not gonna let them bully me into leaving,” he said. He made it clear that this wasn’t about defiance for its own sake. “If that’s what they were gonna, would’ve done, let the chips fall how the chips fall, because I was not leaving until I got answers.”
That approach reflects a consistent belief in accountability, regardless of political leanings. “I, I don’t know which way he leans. I, I do know the town is a, at one point, was a heavily Democratic town,” Puente noted of the judge involved. “But frankly, I, I don’t look at the judges or the public officials. I, I don’t care because there’s bad actors no matter what party stripes they’re wearing.”
Calling out resistance to transparency
Puente said the incident wasn’t isolated—it’s part of a trend he’s witnessed over the last several years. “Going back to 2016, I’ve noticed some public agencies where—I’m only a local reporter, I’ve reported on, on local government affairs—but a lot of ‘em are emboldened to say, ‘We’re not giving you the records,’” he said. He sees such obstruction as part of a larger, disturbing shift. “They want to wait out six months. But that raised my suspicion that day.”
His skepticism often grows when officials overreact to scrutiny. “They just can’t stop somebody from coming in the courtroom,” he said. It’s not just about journalism—it’s about protecting public access. “I wasn’t gonna leave. And if they would’ve told me to leave… I would’ve quit my job that day because I believe that we have a mission, and the public has a right to know.”
Blue collar roots, watchdog instincts
Puente’s investigative style is deeply shaped by his working-class background. “It shapes it. Because when I got into this business, I was stunned as a 35-year-old intern who spent 15 years as a long-haul trucker and a, and a local driver—that media, and I’ve said it publicly and I don’t, I’m not concerned about the backlash—when I got in this business, I was stunned at how dismissive longtime journalists were of the working class.”
Rather than go straight to high-ranking sources, Puente prefers listening to those on the ground. “My sources for all those stories were the frontline workers—the desk jockeys, the janitors, the hot dog vendors outside the courthouses—because I talked to them people. Because they hear everything. They see everything,” he said. “And they’re often ignored by people in the media because they want to go to the top or get the laughable PIO or the CEO.”
Calling for more diversity of experience in newsrooms

His experience as a truck driver taught him how to listen—and not to underestimate anyone. “I read newspapers voraciously as a young kid when I was a truck driver,” he said. And while he respects formal education, Puente believes journalism needs more people with lived experience. “I tell kids, ‘You don’t need to go to journalism school.’ I didn’t. I took a couple of reporting classes, copy editing class. That’s all you need if you can read and write.”
He argues that newsroom culture often overlooks the voices of everyday people. “There’s not enough blue collar people who can talk to frontline workers, and that’s where they’re missing their mark at,” he said. “I focus on them people, those individuals, every day.”
Breaking the mold—and proud of it
Puente is well aware that his path in journalism is unconventional—and rare. “I told Tom O’Hara, the former managing editor of The Plain Dealer when he talked about hiring me to go into a bureau—I walked into his office, I was nervous, I was scared. I had three teenage kids at home, a wife and two dogs,” he said. “And I said, ‘Listen, Tom, I get you can hire 200 journalists tomorrow who have 10 to 20 years’ experience, but I will outwork every one of them every day as long as I’m here.’”
He doesn’t shy away from his critics either. “Someone could say, ‘Yeah, but you went to Chapel Hill.’ Yeah, I did go to Chapel Hill, but because I couldn’t get a four-year degree in four years as a full-time working truck driver, so I quit my job,” Puente explained. “So yeah, I can make an excuse for that.”
A commitment to fairness in every story
Even when pursuing hard-hitting investigations, Puente sticks to one rule: fairness. “I tell them, ‘Be fair. Be fair. And stick to the facts. Keep your biases and opinions out of it. And don’t take sides,’” he said of his advice to young journalists. “You can hit somebody hard, show ’em in a bad light—but do it respectfully and be fair and give them time to respond.”
He extends that fairness to everyone he interviews. “An hour ago, I was on the phone with a police official in this community where I went to the court and said, ‘Here’s what I’m looking at. I’m laying all my cards on the table. You need to get your boss in front of me, because he needs to see what’s going on,’” Puente said. “And they respected that.”
Staying hopeful about journalism’s future
Despite the challenges he faces, Puente remains hopeful about the role of journalism in a functioning democracy. “I am. I see the work that a lot of young journalists are doing,” he said. “I think it—I mean, there’s towns across this country, big and small, that the watchdogs have been diminished. But there’s still enough out there trying to do good work and making a difference.”
He also does his part to support the next generation. “I often write or send them notes when I see a good story by young journalists: ‘Hey, keep up the good work. I really liked it.’ I mean, I think people need to encourage it, subscribe, and help keep it going—because it depends on it.”
Comments
No comments on this item Please log in to comment by clicking here