Reflection.
At 26, I just won my first professional best-in-class award, and was nominated for another, both reflecting the first two years of my career (specifically the final 8 months of 2016). It's still sinking in (Here's the entry that won me 2016's Best Large Market Sports Anchor from the Virginias Associated Press).
This story begins one year ago today: on a Monday off (following my 25th birthday), I jump on a plane in Duluth, Minnesota for an interview. It's an early one—I'm to connect through Chicago, land in Charleston, West Virginia, sleep it off, and have a personal interview the next day before the return trip.
There's the requisite uncertainty—the very same doubt you're not supposed to ever show. I visit the bar in Chicago to calm my nerves, where a fellow traveler buys a tequila shot for me in a sort of premature celebration (I do enjoy tequila, and even the exorbitantly-priced rail drinks in airports manage to feel premium). For the next three hours in the terminal, it's me, Spotify, and my thoughts.
Wheels up, take a nap, land at CRW. The hotel sends a van for me. The bar's still open, so I have a nightcap, which led to a fateful meeting. I went to bed thinking I'm supposed to move here.
Next day, the interview goes well. Cruised (not "quickly," but "easily") right through it, and was sent back on my way. The following Sunday brings the call with the job offer. No hesitation (my previous employment was at-will)—I'm ready to roll.
This is the story that got me a Meritorious Award (use the link).
Here comes the fork in the road—while giving two weeks' notice of intent to terminate, I'm presented with a promotion of sorts (a rather generous offer). So... I step outside for an hour to think it over. Compelling points were made—I've become comfortable in Duluth (a wonderful city), with my coworkers, and have proven myself highly capable of rising to challenges (which is a character trait I've ruthlessly developed for years). Speaking of challenges—on top of that, I'd finally be given a chance to perform a specific duty that I had made clear on at least two occasions I'd wanted to tackle.
That last point caused me to take a walk and think about it. The one thing I'd expressed a desire for since day one (and about which to that point my questions received nothing but non-answers), in a city where I'd established myself as a competent, confident journalist, with the people gracious enough to take a chance on me (and with whom I placed third among small markets in Wisconsin for best sports feature). Weigh that against a chance to step my game up in unfamiliar territory (which happened to be closer to home), and you can see the dilemma.
Then... I recalled my first internship in Louisville. I remember in vivid detail a conversation with a respected reporter, in which I was torn between pursuing general news and sports. He distilled his advice into four words:
"Take the g--d--- leap."
Following that, graduate school teachings kicked in.
"Get comfortable with being uncomfortable."
College followed in step.
"Pursue your passion, and follow your own path."
It was time. After nearly 16 months, it was time to take the training wheels off, set aside the too-little-too-late temptation (while recognizing the volumes such an offer spoke), and go.
I'm closer to home, so my brother and I get to hang out more.
I had the basics, and had learned to refine my workflow. The mantra—do better, do faster, do more (in that order)—remained as I found near-absolute freedom to further develop my skill. Understand: this freedom is mental. It has nothing to do with location other than the unfamiliarity of jumping into the deep end of the pool, as it were. One question I asked myself daily (and still do):
What kind of journalist do I want to be?
Relatable, invested, and fun. Grind that to a sharp point, and keep it that way. I get to enjoy sporting events with the audience. I am less important than the young athletes whose feats I am fortunate to witness. Be a fan, knowing these athletes' pride is shared by friends and family. Be a storyteller, focus on being as immersive as possible. Enjoy it, because there are scores of others willing to do this job. Keep the ego at bay (you need a measure of ego to do this job), but demand excellence from yourself as you highlight truth in the world (the joyful and the heartbreaking alike).
In my new capacity, I've seen communities where high school sports are the pride and joy. I've been sent hours away to follow a conference basketball tournament (with zero backup), and have taken absolute pride and joy in facing each challenge (because every day is a new challenge).
When handed this award, it felt like a sort of validation—being on the right track, but not at the destination. It was an inspiration—do better, and do more. Everything up to a particular moment is preparation for that moment. Be grateful for all of it, but keep focused. Know that everyone encountered along the way—educators, colleagues, co-workers, acquaintances—contributes to you (and you to them). Grow more confident, remain a student, and the world will remain open.
But, for now, I'm taking this plaque and this certificate home to my parents. This time, I get to give them physical representation of a return on their hard work. (Here's a link to PDFs with all the winners in case you don't believe I'm in truly good company)
Brothers: we ride together, we stay fresh together.