In the aftermath of the Christchurch terror attack, my social media feeds have filled with people expressing their shock and disbelief that something like this could happen in our part of the world.

But like Waleed Aly, I wasn't shocked and couldn't understand why anyone else would be either.

This is because for the past three years, I've worked at Sky News. More specifically, Sky News "after dark" — when the rolling coverage of the day's news makes way for conservative commentators to share the "opinions you can't ignore".

As a young Muslim woman, I had many crises of conscience working here, but the events of Friday snapped me out of the endless cycle of justifying my job to myself. On Saturday, I finally sent in my letter of resignation.

I was a liaison for the channel based in their Canberra studio, a junior role helping with studio guests and the running of the office as a casual a few times a week.

When I started, I did not know what I was getting myself into. I was 19, and though I'd heard about Sky News, I had never watched it before. I was excited that I would get to work in Parliament House, and there could be a full-time job when I graduated. I didn't do as much research as I should have.

I realised pretty quickly though that the Sky News I worked on wasn't focused on reporting facts and informing the public. Rather, conservative media commentators came together with current and former right-wing politicians, disseminating misinformation which bordered on conspiracies.

I stood by as the fear and hate grew

I compromised my values and beliefs to stand idly by as I watched commentators and pundits instil more and more fear into their viewers.

I stood on the other side of the studio doors while they slammed every minority group in the country — mine included — increasing polarisation and paranoia among their viewers.

I'd walk commentators to the studio where after some very polite chit chat — "how are you?", "how's uni going?"— they'd go on air and talk about my community.

I was there when Cory Bernardi advocated for banning the burqa, and when he called on the government to remove "offend" and "insult" from 18C of the Racial Discrimination Act under the guise of free speech.

I was there when Pauline Hanson proudly talked about how she would, the following day, put forward the "It's OK to Be White" motion to counter the rise of so-called anti-white racism.

I watched as Bronwyn Bishop, following the "terror raids" in Sydney, insisting that "war" had been declared against western culture.

I answered calls from viewers who yelled about immigrants and Muslims ruining Australia. They did not realise that the person on the other end of the phone was both of those things.

And in the aftermath of Friday's terror attack, Sky's coverage was among Australian media outlets who played parts of the gunman's live stream.

Sky News "after dark" is when the day's news makes way for conservative commentators to share the "opinions you can't ignore". ( Reuters: David Moir )

This is not a journalist's job

Some nights I felt physically sick, others I even shed tears in my car on the way home.

Still, I continued to compromise my values. Not only my values as a member of a religious group who was continuously being blamed and alienated by the rhetoric on these shows, but also as an aspiring journalist.

I know other emerging and aspiring journalists who continue to compromise their values just for a foot in the door in the hyper-competitive media industry.

This weekend, though, I realised that where we get our start matters too. Over the past few years, I was playing a role — no matter how small — in a network whose tone I knew would help legitimise radical views present in the fringes of our society.

Now, I am done being a part of something I do not stand for, and I urge other young journalists to do the same.

We're all responsible for 'the media'

In the media industry, who we work for matters, as we are responsible in some way for the information being disseminated. What we distribute has consequences.

Of course, we all still need jobs. Of course, we could not be held responsible for the hatred and division spread by the commentators on the network. Of course, no media organisation is going to be perfect.

But I felt like I compromised the very reason I went into journalism — a search for truth — for a foot in the door.

When I reflected on who I work for and whether I could justify going into work this weekend, I knew what I had to do. Even as young journalists, we should act on our morals now rather than at some point in the future where we assume that we will have more of a say.

This isn't limited to journalists — it applies to all Australians. The news we read, the way we talk about minorities in our community — every decision we make matters and it all adds up.

As we saw in Christchurch, what happens in our media can have real life consequences.

Rashna Farrukh is a former Sky News employee.

Note: A previous version of this article said Sky News played the gunman's live stream of scenes from inside the mosque. This was incorrect: the broadcaster showed segments of the live stream but not from inside the mosque. The article also said Sky New Zealand pulled the Sky News Australia feed, but Sky News Australia said in a statement that this is incorrect.