I was planning on writing a post about an entirely different subject today.
It was going to be about playing the piano, of all things. For the first time in probably a year or so, I sat down on my piano bench and played last week. I’m not very good, but it made me so happy to play again. It filled me with childhood memories of a love I once had and as I grew up… let go.
I wanted to be a pianist. I wanted to be a singer. I wanted to be an actress. I wanted to be a performer. I wanted to be a writer. I wanted to be on the stage, in the spotlight, off in my own world. As I “grew up,” I turned those strengths and skills of public-speaking and storytelling into a passion… to be a Journalist.
For a little more than seven years now, I have been blessed to turn my passion into a job, a career, a living. I have spent seven years telling the stories of my community – the Quad Cities – stories that have made me laugh, made me cry, made me angry, made me wonder, made me smile, made me love, made me hate.
The one story that comes to mind that I have always hated the most is the Sandy Hook Elementary School Shooting that happened in Newtown, Connecticut on December 14th, 2012. After finding out what happened, my assignment was to talk to local parents – simple enough, right? I did just that – interviewed a handful of parents who were sitting in their cars, waiting for their kids outside of Garfield Elementary in Moline. It was a Friday and my parents were coming into town, but I wouldn’t see them until after my shift, which ended around 10pm.
I remember driving home that night and being excited, because I knew I’d get to see my Mom and Dad in a matter of minutes. I remember walking into my house, strolling into the family room, wrapping my arms around my Mom, saying “Hello!” and then bursting into tears.
At that moment, I realized that I made it home when 20 students and 6 staff members in Newtown, CT did not.
Sometimes, as part of our jobs as Journalists, we numb ourselves to the stories we report. We train ourselves not to get too emotionally attached to the people we interview or the topic or the circumstances. We are supposed to pitch our ideas, get our assignments, call our contacts, do our interviews, stay out of the way of our photographers as they shoot video for our stories, write our scripts, get them to our photographer/editor on time, type up a post for our website, post that post to our social media pages, and – sometimes – set up a live shot and report what you worked on all day on the air. Phew. That is a “day in the life.” That is our job.
As you go through that process, you never think someone would try to hurt you while you’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing and, frankly, what you want to be doing. I’m sure as those teachers and students went to school on that day in December 2012, they never thought someone would try to hurt them as they were doing what they wanted to be doing. Those church members who were attending a prayer service in Charleston, North Carolina this past July never thought someone would try to hurt them as they were doing what they wanted to be doing.
Alison Parker and Adam Ward never thought someone would try to hurt them as they were doing what they wanted to be doing… their job. Their passion.
It proves that we, as Journalists, should not always be numb to what is happening around us. We are definitely not immune to what is happening around us. It proves that this has, can, and will happen anywhere… in a school, in a church, in a movie theatre, in a mall, in an army recruiting center, in the field of a live report, in a front yard, in uniform, in places that are supposed to be “safe.”
Of course, I’ve thought a lot about my fellow Journalists the last 24 hours. It’s hard not to. Not just the ones at WQAD, but the ones at KWQC, WHBF, WDBJ, and every station up and down the market list. We really are a family, in a world of our own.
I’ve also thought about my family and friends who work in schools, who are firefighters and police officers, who deployed overseas, who work in construction zones, who are getting on a plane or going to a movie or shopping at a store, who are just living their life and, in many cases, simply following their passions.
It makes you think twice. It makes you open your eyes and your ears… both literally and figuratively. It makes you realize that bad things, evil things happen to good people no matter their age, their race, their occupation, or their circumstances. It can happen to anyone, anywhere.
That was the first thing I thought of when my phone blinked bright with a news alert while I was getting ready for work yesterday. Minutes later, my phone buzzed with a text message… and I knew it was my Mom. I can only imagine what she was thinking, what every Journalist’s mom or loved one was thinking when they saw the news yesterday morning.
It’s the same thing that a teacher’s loved one was thinking, a police officer’s loved one was thinking, a moviegoer’s loved one – as strange as that sounds – was thinking. Our world is smaller than we think.
We will never be able to stop evil. What we can do is live… fully. We can do our job. We can pursue our passion. We cannot live in fear, because that’s no way to live. Let’s live in love.
That’s how we honor Alison and Adam.
That’s how we honor two people who were doing their job and doing what they love. They won’t be able to come home after their shift or return a text message saying – “I know. It’s so horrible.” – but we can and we need to remember that every time we do… it’s a blessing.
You know, as I started writing this, I really thought that my original idea of writing about playing the piano was so stupid compared to this subject. I don’t think so anymore. I say – do what you love, do what makes you happy, do what you’re passionate about. Don’t let anyone stop you.
We only get one life… so let’s live in honor of those who can’t anymore.
#WeStandWithWDBJ
