A year of firsts

It’s been a year since I stopped being a journalist.

And what a year, a year of firsts.

My first year since 2017 without any city council meetings. I don’t even know when they meet here or how many people are on the council.

My first year without working any nights, holidays, or weekends.

My first year without more gray hair.

When I stopped being a journalist, I was nervous about what was coming. I was moving with my husband and our dogs to a small town in a new state to help my in-laws and my niece (read the details here if you wish, https://bouldercityreview.com/opinion/goodbye-never-easy-to-say-69824/).

I didn’t have a Plan B for my career or even really a specific idea of what I was going to do next. I was enjoying the time off until one day I realized I really needed a steady job, and I really didn’t want to be a journalist anymore.

For me, being a journalist was never about journalism or writing or because I loved going to public meetings. It was about connection; specifically, connecting with people. I connected with them by getting know who they were, what they wanted for the community, what they liked, and what was important to them.

That was my foundation of my job as a journalist. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed holding public officials accountable for what they said, promised, and did. I also enjoyed catching them with their pants down. But all of that was driven by my desire to connect with people. Take that away, and I’m just a warm body sitting at a computer or in meeting.

So even though I’m no longer a journalist, I’m still working, and I still connect with people every day.

How?

I work at a sandwich shop that’s a mile away from my home. I interact with more people in a day there than I ever did working at a news outlet. Most of them are usually happier, too (unless we are out of sunflower bread or beer cheese soup). None of them have ever threatened me or told me how they were going to sneak a gun into a public meeting and who’d they shoot first or tell me that a talking moose from Alaska was a better reporter than I was (all true stories). Although a Kansas City Chiefs fan did tell me he wanted to take my Cincinnati Bengals hat and burn it. But yeah, that’s just some friendly trash talk between rivals.

So when people ask me why I’m not a journalist anymore and why I make sandwiches, I tell them that the stress is less, and the pay is the same (I’m dead serious — I make same amount of money I did at the paper I worked at for 5 years. I was even given a raise here that I didn’t ask for and a real holiday bonus). Oh, I also get tips and did I mention I don’t work nights, weekends, or holidays??

Even though, the leap to leave journalism and the unknown was difficult and a little bit scary, I’m so glad I did it. I don’t think I’m ever going back to it, and I’m completely okay with that. I feel like I have my life back, and I can finally move forward.

Oh, and I’m still writing. I have a freelance job where I get to choose the stories I write, who I connect with, and I don’t have to attend any meetings🙂