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Why, as a journalist, do I have to fear that what I do isn't valued enough in this world? Why do I have to go to work thinking, "If I don't give my 110 percent every day, might my job be in jeopardy?" Why am I not surprised when another round of journalists are let go from their jobs because money is tight? It happened again today. Yesterday five reporters and photographers had a job. Today they're without. That fact sat on my heart today, like a heavy dumbbell on my soul that wouldn't let me breathe without quivering or sigh without feeling like my breath needed to escape. I still have my job, but when will it be my turn? Every day, I write stories that concern me, move me, make me cry, make me angry, generate more questions and so on. I don't always love what I do or what I write about, but I love that I can inform people what's really going on and let them choose how to respond. What would this world be without factual, accurate news reported by professionals deeply invested in what they do? At this rate, what will this world be without it? 

As I drove home, sitting in stop-and-go traffic, watching the sun set behind the Flatirons, I came to peace with the fact that I don't have control over who's or what's next. All I can do is give 110 percent whenever I can, whether that's no days in a week or every day. My job does not define me. My job is not my sole identity. Until it's me who gets the layoff email, I'll be over here typing away, dreaming of whatever adventure awaits — on the clock or off. 

1 comment

  1. Losing a job can be awful, but also "liberating." Many people have found hidden talents they know they didn't have, forced to take the initiative. Kind of like "making your own reality."



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