In TV News We're All Connected

I didn't know those who lost their lives just doing their jobs this week, but I'm still deeply heartbroken over this act of unconscionable violence that happened on live tv. I lived in Roanoke for 15 years and for part of that time, I worked in tv news for WDBJ7's competitor.

It may seem odd that I feel so connected, so heartbroken, so violated after something so brutal happened to people I have never met. But I do. I am devastated. In tv news, we are all connected: we are family.

So instead of focusing on the evil violence, I'm choosing to focus on the family of a newsroom.

Television news is filled with people who have the same ambitions, the same drive to hold the powerful accountable, the same tenacity to get the scoop, the same simple goal: to tell the story. Every day. Often for people who don't have a voice to tell their own story.

It's difficult to describe what working in a newsroom is like, but I'll try so you can understand our family. Also as a former journalist, writing is cathartic for me. It's been helpful to read the thoughts, posts, blogs of other tv news friends of mine (and even those tv news people I've never met) because we are connected: we are family.

A newsroom is full of ambitious people who work harder than anyone you've ever met. Think of the biggest overachiever at your school or office. Now imagine a room FULL of these people. That is a typical newsroom. I often marveled at the resumes of the young people next to me who had lived lives well beyond those of other people also in their early 20s. I believe we had 3 former Miss Teen Virginia winners working in our newsroom at once. Intelligent, talented, well-spoken, hard-working women who are even more kind than they are beautiful. And they are crown-winningly beautiful.

When you start in tv news, you typically get a job in a small market (meaning SMALL town in the  middle of nowhere) and you work about 80 hours a week while making less money than you owe in student loans. I have a friend who was a news anchor in another small town who made so little that she qualified for food stamps, but her station would not let her get those benefits because the news director said, "it would look bad for their anchor to be buying groceries with food stamps."

You compete with other reporters or producers at the rival station, but you also compete against those in your own newsroom. Who had the lead story today? Who will get the lead tomorrow? Who has the best sources? Who got the best footage? Who can turn a story the fastest? Who has the best written copy or most creative "looks" (headlines for graphics)? Usually this is a healthy competition that makes you better at your job. It can also make a job full of continuous deadlines and pressures feel even more stressful.

Yet, you instantly bond with your co-workers. They are your best friends, your roommates, maybe even your significant other. You choose to spend time with them during your precious time off.

Every Friday night during high school football season each photographer in the newsroom travels to a different game (or two) to get video for our weekly high school football special. For news photographers this means that after working a full day on your usual shift, you had to drive sometimes 1-2 hours to your assigned game of the week, hope you see enough touchdowns before you have to head back to the station.
You quickly edit a 45-second clip from the game.
There is a line of 10 photographers waiting to show their highlights and give the players' names to the sports anchor.
The station phone is ringing off the hook as schools are calling to report their final scores which we need to include in the show.
Often this is happening with less than 10 minutes before the show will go on air.
It was always a hectic night in the newsroom, but still a controlled chaos with a rhythm.

After working from 9am-11:30pm, these co-workers didn't go home. Instead, the entire newsroom would go out after the show to laugh about whatever wild thing happened at their game. After a double shift, we would choose to spend another 2 hours together.

Laughter is the answer when you need to shake off that bad show. To forget how much you stumbled through your script. To forgive yourself for making a mistake. To get past being yelled at by the news director for leading the newscast with a story he would not have chosen as a lead story.

You have no set schedule and know that your day changes anytime there is breaking news, which is often.
You don't call in sick. Ever.
You do what's asked of you and then you do 10 times more.
You work overnights, weekends and holidays.
You come in early and stay late on a regular basis.
You are told by your news director that if you can't do these things, there is a stack of 100 tapes from reporters who want your job and will do it without complaining. (I later found out this is a standard response from every news director.)

I once worked a 19-hour day to cover a big football game out of state. As the deadline for the 11pm news approached, we barely had time to get our story edited and we missed slot - meaning we turned our story in after it was supposed to air in the show's rundown. The producers and anchors just went to the next story without missing a beat so viewers had no idea that our story should have gone first. We finished and got our tape on air. We missed slot by 30 seconds. 30 seconds after a 19-hour day. But after the show my photographer and I were loudly berated for missing slot.

That day was also my 23rd birthday.

And my photographer from that day is still one of my dearest friends, closer than a brother.

In a newsroom, you make mistakes together. You celebrate triumphs together. You learn and grow as journalists together. You go through a lot of failures/heartbreaks/losses together.

Like when the image consultant comes to town twice a year to tell everyone on camera that they are doing everything wrong. And management doesn't just listen, but takes notes so you can "improve your brand." During one such visit, a consultant popped in my tape (back when everything was on Beta) and after 10 seconds, stopped the tape. She looked at me and said with a frown, "What are we going to do with your freckles? They are a PROBLEM."

Yet, your tv friends always have a story that can top yours and make you feel a little bit better about whatever has happened to you that day.

Once my reporter roommate and I were venting about our nearly empty bank accounts. It was 10 days until payday. She only had 14 dollars left. I had only 10 dollars. Another reporter friend of ours laughed and called his bank. He put the bank's recording on speakerphone and loudly, it told us that we were all in this together, saying: "Your account balance is 26 cents."

But for every stressed out story that ends with someone crying in the bathroom (a rite of passage at my station), there were stories of compassion that showed what a family we were.

A group from our newsroom trained for a marathon. I had never run more than 3 miles in my life and struggled on our first long group run of 6 miles. The main news anchor, an excellent runner and even better news manager and mentor, finished his run, then he ran back to me to run beside me for my final mile. To run beside me.

We have a unique bond because we experienced the same things. Maybe in different cities or different decades. But in tv news we share something that doesn't go away easily over time.

I hope that our connection - our tv family - can offer help to the heartbroken tonight.

We run beside you. We Stand With WDBJ.

Who I Am Is Because of Her

I am a feminist. I support women and expect equality for us. I believe wholeheartedly that my purpose on this planet is to support and empower women.

I am this way because of my mother.

She is not a radical, Mother Earth-loving, flower child (although that would have been fun too). Instead, my mother is a steady, practical, traditional in some ways - but not in others, powerful force. She taught my sister and I that being strong and feminine are not mutually exclusive. She never gave us a ceiling for what we could accomplish. She raised us in a limitless world.

From the time I can remember she talked to us about "when" we would go to college, not "if." Because of her and our father's work and support, my sister and I became the first college graduates in our family. Our mom wanted us to get an education and knew that it was the key to us getting out of our small town to experience opportunities she never had.

As the oldest of five children, my mom learned her work ethic honest from a truck driver dad and a factory worker mom. What they lacked in material possessions paled in comparison to the abundance of family love, lessons of determination and expectations of helping others. My mom always seems to know what to do in a tough situation and I believe it's because of the values instilled in her by her incredibly hard-working parents.

I come from a long line of women who worked hard and wanted more. In the late 1940s without a car to take them to the county high school about a half hour away from her parents' home, my mom's mom went to live with her older, married sister so that she could finish high school. At that time, rarely did a woman graduate from high school in our area of rural Virginia. My grandmother did graduate and soon married my grandfather, who had only a 7th grade education before dropping out to help his family on the farm. Despite his lack of a formal education, he was a street-smart, tough worker who had a heart of gold and was especially loving to his grandchildren, great-grandchildren and even great-great grandchildren.

Actions Spoke Louder Than Words
My sister and I were taught by example. Our mom taught us there are seasons to life, and it's okay to try new things while still putting yourself and your family first. She was a stay-at-home mom for years when we were younger and then went back into the workforce and then stayed at home again when we needed her and again returned to the workforce later when the time was right for her. She was always there for us. From my Girl Scout Troop Leader to my cheerleader in the stands when I was a cheerleader on the sideline, she has always been there to support me, lead me and guide me to become the person I am. It's what I hope to be to my daughters.

I can only imagine how she must have felt as our chauffeur, shuttling us from practices to games and back home again day after day. But she never complained. She was stoic and that I know for sure is reflective of her parents' values.

She spoke to my sister and I about the importance of getting our own jobs when we were older so we could spend our own money however we saw fit before we ever thought about getting married. She understood that financial independence was an important step to female empowerment.

She taught us to stand up and make our voice heard. She not only votes, but volunteers at the polls on Election Day. She has worked every election I can remember, whether it's for the president or the county sheriff. She didn't talk to us about who she planned to vote for, only that it was important to learn about the candidates and vote since decisions are made by the people we elect. It's our obligation to participate. I find that lesson particularly valuable today on another Election Day, when she is working at the polls for at least 15 hours.

Her faith was a guiding force that greatly influenced my life. Our mother taught us about God's love. Instilling that we were each given a gift by God and that we should show that love to others. She lived the traditional role of women in Southern churches: cooking for families who had lost a loved one, teaching Sunday School classes, and leading clothing drives for the community. She and my father visited the sick in the hospital and went to - what seemed to a me as a young child  - every funeral for every person who ever died in our small town. She taught us that death is a part of life and I remember being impressed that she always knew what to say in a difficult situation. She still takes charge to plan details and help with arrangements when there is a death in our family, even with her own father.

She is, at her core, tough. She isn't overly emotional, but is giving and honest and loving. She takes care of us. She showed us what it meant to be a loving mother while teaching us to reach for our dreams.

Now, as a mother, I realize how much she sacrificed and how hard it must have been and how blessed I am to have her as my mother. I hope to teach my daughters the lessons she taught me. She may feel that she hasn't accomplished a lot in her lifetime, but I am standing here proof that every accomplishment I have is because of her and her legacy will continue with my children. Every woman I help in my professional life is helped by my mother. I show them the grace I was given and work to support and empower them because that's what she did for me.

I am who I am because of my mother.

The Day That Changed This Hokie Forever

April 16, 2007

It's a day that I will never forget. Every Hokie remembers where they were that day when they heard the news and has a unique story about how they were affected. This is mine.

I was working about 45 minutes away from Blacksburg. It was a normal day at the office when we began to hear that something had happened at VT. We heard there had been a shooting in a dorm, West AJ, that morning, but no other details. Then as the hours passed, we heard there was a shooting in Norris Hall and at least 2 people were dead.

Then 8. Then 10. Then 20. TWENTY.

Then VT President Charles Steger held a news conference to announce there are 33 confirmed casualties, including the shooter.

THIRTY-THREE.

33 people. dead. on a campus where I lived for four years. where I met and fell in love with the man who is now my husband. where I found myself and realized the world is so much bigger than the small town where I grew up. the campus where I became an adult and made life-changing, amazing memories.

I remember sitting at my desk, crying. One of my co-workers was also a Hokie and we were in shock and disbelief. Another co-worker had a son who was a student at VT and he scrambled to reach his kid, and luckily was able to get in contact with him to breathe a sigh of relief that his son was okay.

Later that week I watched the President of the United States (George W. Bush) attend the invocation on campus from my desk online. That invocation at Cassell Coliseum was overwhelming. Still to this day anytime I see Nikki Giovanni's speech "We Will Prevail" - I fall apart.

Everyone has a connection to the tragedy.

Blacksburg is like that. Only 1 or 2 degrees of separation for a school of over 25,000 students. Our tight-knit community is built on the fact that we do all really know each other or know their friends or their friends' friends.

For me, a sister in my sorority was shot that day. She was one of the survivors. I didn't know her personally at the time, but after April 16th, I reached out to my sorority's Chapter Advisor to ask how she and the chapter were handling this tragedy and what could I do to help? There was an open spot on the sorority's advisory board and so I stepped in as their Recruitment Advisor.

My title didn't matter, nor did the songs we sang practicing for Formal Recruitment that year. What mattered was the safety and compassion we felt when we were together, the support we knew we had from each other. What mattered was how those women were dealing with the death of their friends, with the shooting and recovery of their sister and with their loss of security on a campus that was their home away from home.

I stepped up to help my sorority because I wanted to help the chapter, but selfishly because I wanted to help myself grieve. I needed it. I needed to be around others who understood how bad it hurt. I later met the sister who had been shot in the head, stomach and back and survived thanks to at least 4 surgeries (including one to remove a bullet from her spine). She came back to school and, incredibly, her younger sibling came to VT the next year. She is amazing and inspiring and has gone on to graduate from VT and help people around the world.

I think that's why I'm so connected to my sorority, perhaps more so than when I was a student. I saw the power in our sisterhood as we came together to grieve, to heal and to help each other during the darkest days.

It Feels Personal
Even though I wasn't a student at the time of the shooting, it feels personal. It feels like a violation of my hometown. I had classes in Norris Hall and it felt strange that the building where I sat for Geology classes freshman year is now the site of the worst massacre on a college campus in US history. I still can't fathom that this happened to my little town, my former campus, my home.

The Hokie Nation, as we are called, doesn't stop at graduation. Virginia Tech is not just a place where I cheer for a football team or received my degree, it's where I became who I am today. It's where I found people who were like me, found even more who weren't and yet, we were all friends who lived together, laughed together and learned from each other.

"While 32 of our friends and classmates are in heaven trying to explain what a Hokie is, I stand here sure in the fact that I wouldn't want to be anything else."

Father's Day Gift

It's Father's Day and while celebrating both my dad and my husband, I found myself reflecting on what makes these men so special to me.

It comes down to one trait: they both show love.

My dad had 2 daughters and while he probably didn't know what to do with us during our moody teenager years, he never changed his approach to parenting. His never-fail fatherly ability to show us love. He taught me things he was passionate about (building engines for NASCAR teams) to show me that I should also find something that I am passionate about. That my work shouldn't feel like a job, but instead a blessing.

My dad taught me about his faith in Christ because he wanted me to have the same comfort and peace and unconditional love he has. I, too, have that faith in our Lord. Not because my parents took me to church or bought me a Bible, but because I could see the peace and joy they have. When I reached an age where one begins to search for what life has to offer, I studied, I resisted, and then I accepted the same peace and joy into my heart. My faith in Christ's love is what keeps me together and what drives how I choose to live my life. Hopefully I can lead a life as poised and faithful as my dad.

My dad taught me about respect. How to respect others. How to respect myself. This is a HUGE deal for a little girl because it determines how she will be for the rest of her life. He showed respect to my mom so that I knew what I should expect from someone who loves me. He told me -- in both words and actions -- of my value. He made me feel smart and accomplished without saying a word.

See, my dad showed me the greatest lesson of all:

Love is not just something you say, it's something you do.

Love is not a noun, but - at it's finest - it's a verb.

My dad was always there for me. Unconditionally. He listened to me when I had a story to tell. He was an assistant coach of my middle school softball team. He came to all my high school volleyball games and cheered loudly for me when I was on the sidelines cheering for my high school football team. He prayed with me when they dropped me off at my freshman dorm. He praised me for working hard and achieving my goal of getting a job in tv news directly after college. I wonder if he knows that I work hard because I saw his work ethic. He and my mom never complained about work, at least not in front of me. They simply did their jobs because that's what you do.

My dad never pushed me to be something I wasn't. He simply asked me to "do my best" in whatever it is that I am doing. He wasn't impressed when I got straight A's and wasn't angry if I got a C on a test. He simply told me to do my best because that's all we can do. I knew that if I did my best, he'd always be proud of me. That empowering confidence has stayed with me from childhood to this day. It's what makes me want to give that confidence to other women -- which I know is my passion and life's purpose.

My dad helps others. He serves others. He visits the sick from our community when they're in the hospital. He mourns with them when they lose a loved one and attends their funerals to bring a little peace to those grieving.

My dad doesn't just help family or friends or people he knows.

He once stopped on the side of the road when I was a little girl to help a stranger change his tire. I remember because it was at night and I think either cold or raining because the man's wife and baby got in our car while Daddy helped the stranger change his tire. He didn't make a big deal of it. He just helped someone who needed it. He showed me Christ's love is more than something you pray about or study. It's something you show to others. To your family. To your friends. To everyone you meet.

I have always been a Daddy's girl and that's why I am so happy to have found a partner as incredible as my dad.

My husband doesn't just tell me he loves me (although he also makes a point of telling me that every day). He shows me how much he loves me. He takes care of all the little details in my life that I find annoying or frustrating. He goes out of his way to make my life just a little bit easier. He always fills my vehicle with gas. I literally can't remember the last time I had to pump my own gas. He will look at my van's gauge and then take it to get fuel so I won't have to. Not because I can't or because I'm some delicate flower who needs a man to take care of me. Simply because he wants to help make my day better.

My husband shows me acts of kindness and service every day.

And not just me. He shows our 3 daughters this love in ways big and small. This week while our 5-year-old was acting moody and quiet because she was embarrassed, instead of laughing or telling her it's no big deal and to get over it, he asked if she wanted to talk about it. She quickly and not-too-kindly declined because she was still in a foul mood. He again could have dismissed it and moved on. Instead he said,

"It's okay sweetie. You don't have to talk about it now. But if you ever do want to talk, I'm here, ok?"

That line right there might have been the best thing I've ever heard my husband say. Our 5-year-old may not realize it yet, but I guarantee she will take him up on it when she's 14 and 16 and even 34 years old. She will know that her dad is there for her and THAT makes all the difference.

Because when she grows up she'll know that love is more than just something you say. It's something you do.

Happy Father's Day!

Love List

I am a list maker.

I make lists for what needs to be done, what groceries I need, what projects I'm working on, what my goals are, what dreams I aspire to. Lists are swirling through my head most nights when I'm trying hard to fall asleep. So pretty much everything in my life gets a list.

In honor of Valentine's Day I created a love list.

I hope my little list inspires you to make a list of why your significant other is perfect for you. If you are single, make a list of what is special about you (it should be a long list) and what you want to find in someone else (it should be a shorter list). I think we can't do it, until we dream it (excuse the pun there), so you can't find what you're looking for, until you know what you're looking for. You also can't appreciate what you have, until you count your blessings.

Here are just a few of the reasons why my husband is my valentine:

• He is an amazing father to our girls. We are talking a Taylor Swift singing, princess tea party having kind of dad.
• He works hard to provide for us so that I can choose to be home with our kids.
• He tells me I'm beautiful every day.
• He is an excellent dishwasher loader/unloader, incredible cook, and listens to me when I talk. Really listens.
• He understands all of me: my dreams, my faults, my fears.
• He opens the door for me. Always.
• He respects me and has supported me through career changes, loss of family members, personal struggles and on and on.
• He believes deeply in God and shows kindness to others.
• He makes me laugh with a sarcastic, witty humor that never fails to make me smile.
• He's brilliant.
• He made me a mother and together we made 3 people who are the best parts of us.

"Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made."
--Robert Browning

Let's Love Ourselves A Little More

It's almost Valentine's Day and I would like to suggest something radical.

Women, let's love ourselves a little more.

How many times have we, as women, looked in the mirror and thought, "I hate my (fill-in-the-blank body part)"? Maybe it's your stomach, your hips, your breasts, your arms, or your legs. Maybe you wish you could make some parts smaller or other parts larger. Once you start making a list of what you want to change, the more body parts you want to add to the list.

When I am caught up in a moment of "Ugh! I wish I could change this and this and this..." my husband is quick to say "How about we hate ourselves a little bit less today?" It always makes me laugh. I realize that I am being ridiculous and stop my little hate spiral before it gets out of control.

It's easy to get caught up in the pity party and negativity of our inner voice that tells us how to feel about ourselves.
It could be from the way our moms talked to us or treated her own body image.
Or what society shows us is beautiful.
Or the way a mean girl in middle school or boyfriend later in life made us feel.
But utimately, WE are the ones who beat ourselves up and tear ourselves down.

I saw this article yesterday and it made me stop and think about how my thoughts and actions are affecting me and will -- no doubt -- affect the thoughts and actions of my 3 small daughters. It's about how moms hate their bodies and feel actual shame over their shapes:
http://www.today.com/moms/love-my-kids-hate-my-body-real-moms-speak-out-1B8328835

It's time to stop shaming ourselves.
Time to stop feeling not good enough.
Time to stop comparing ourselves.

Time to stop wishing we could change things that are unchangeable:

Gravity.
Stretch marks.
Our mother's body shape passed down to us as if it were a precious, but unwanted, family heirloom.

It's time to believe in the power of our bodies. The strength in our shape.

As a mother, my body has changed.
That is ok. I feel stronger, more powerful. I know that I helped create life and brought that child into the world.
I DID THAT.

I know that I made milk for my children custom for their size, their age, their needs. And I fed them when no one else could. I know that my body did that.
MY body.

When I start to feel negative and think, "Wouldn't it be great to just change this or that?" it is up to me to change my perspective. If I look at the mirror closely enough, I realize that I am stronger than I have ever been. I am wiser and more confident than I have ever been. I am more beautiful in the eyes of my husband and my children than I was even yesterday. Once I can see the beauty through my own eyes, then I can share that self love with my daughters.

I am happy in this moment.
I choose to see the beauty in the strength and grace I possess and celebrate it.

So ladies, let's reflect on the positives we see in the mirror. Let's find our confidence and celebrate it.

Birthday Gift: Acts of Kindness

Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me!

Birthdays are a big deal at this house, at least for our kids, and I think deep down I'll always feel like that little girl who still gets so excited when it's her birthday. But this year I feel like I already have so much, so many blessings, that I  need to focus on other people and give more joy to them.

I saw a blog about a woman who did 38 random acts of kindness on her 38th birthday (see her amazing blog: http://mixmingleglow.com/blog/?p=1358). I thought that was a perfect idea, but for me and the 3 little girls, I don't think I could make a full day of it yet (maybe when they're older and could come along to help).

So I opted for a week of doing as many acts of kindness to friends and strangers alike. Turns out, I couldn't stop after just one week, so it is continuing. I am trying to do at least one good thing -- small or large -- for someone else every day.

Here is my list and if you are interested, maybe you can join in and do random acts of kindness too!

1. Made dinner for a friend and her family since she's recovering from surgery.

2. Gave money to a stranger in need. I heard her story from a friend who knew of a pregnant woman who didn't have much money and was struggling to pay bills and prepare for the birth of her baby. I gave money to my friend who then delivered it (and many other gifts from other people) to the mom-to-be. I feel like a small part of a bigger group who came together to bless this woman and her little baby.

3. Supported a friend by just listening and telling her I am here for her while she's going through a tough family situation.

4. Told a sorority sister that I am proud of her and believe in her ability to be a leader.

5. Brought a piece of pie home for my husband after he watched the kids so I could go to dinner for another friend's birthday.

6. Called an old friend out of the blue and told her how much her friendship means to me. She called me a few days later to say how my call was a gift from God because was having a really hard time and hearing how much she meant to me made her feel a million times better. Her call back to me blessed me more than she could know!

7. Bought a CD for a friend that I know she'd like and mailed it to her as a surprise.

8. Sent a card to a friend who I don't see often enough just saying "hi."

9. Told a dear friend and sorority sister how much I admire what she does to help other sisters (most of the time doing things that no one knows about except her and the sister in need). Her ability to give of her time and talents and unwavering support is something I strive to be like.

10. Told my daughters how much I love them and how proud I am for specific things they had done that day.

11. Made dinner for a neighbor who just had a baby.

12. Took a gift to another neighbor who also had a baby.

13. Gave a friend a compliment.

14. Let a stranger go in front of me in the check out line at the grocery store.

15. Increased our tithes to our church because of many reasons, one being that the staff does so many wonderful things for people in our community who need help while going through a tough time.

16. Gave a stranger a compliment and watched her face light up when I talked to her.

17. Prayed for a friend's son as he had surgery -- prayers for healing, comfort and peace for him and his family.


This is a short list, but one I want to continue, not just around my birthday, but every day. It helps me to count my blessings (which are too many to count) and to serve others as Christ calls us to do.