Sometimes, I’m at work late. Really late.
I can’t qualify how late based on sunlight, because at this point, it’s still dark when I get to work at 9 and it’s dark again when I leave work to grab dinner at 6.
Occasionally, when I scurry home for lunch, I’ll glance at the bright town of Nome and think to myself, “hmm, it’s awful sunny and beautiful with that slanted light pouring in from the Bering Sea (not only are the days getting shorter, but the sun is rising lower in the sky, so for most of the day we’re cast in the golden glow of afternoon sunrise/set).”
Usually, I look away from my feet for too long and wind up slipping on the sheet of ice formerly known as the road. But it’s all right. Here, I don’t mind as much when I’m knocked off my feet by beauty.
I’m used to working in the dark. I mean, how did you think someone who procrastinates this much could survive college? But here it does take on new meaning. I thought I’d share two recent episodes of inspiring, day-brightening work that happened, mostly, in the dark.
News Lord (or, Director of the Much-Acclaimed and Highly Caffeinated News Department) Matt and I rolled back into the station around 8 p.m. Tuesday for the news we’d all been waiting for: Election Day results. Our game plan was to gather statewide and regional results, draft web copy for the night, broadcast copy for the morning, keep social media updated, and do a live hit at 10 p.m. with the results we had thus far. We made coffee, listened to Alaska Public Media’s live coverage, and hit “refresh” on our browsers at least a hundred times.
There have been moments during the past almost-five months when I’ve questioned why I’m working as a news reporter, why it matters, and whether or not what we do makes any difference to the people we serve. That’s not meant to sound as dejected and defeated as it might; I’m just prone to overthinking when it comes to the big picture, and in the long run, I think serious contemplation benefits my work. But there was no reason for reflection Tuesday night. To steal words from a beloved show, The Newsroom (full disclosure: I spent my lunch break Tuesday watching the “Election Night” episode):
“There’s nothing more important in a democracy than a well-informed electorate. When there’s no information or, much worse, wrong information, it can lead to calamitous decisions and clobber any attempts at vigorous debate. That’s why I produce the news.”
Okay, it’s a little bit of an idealistic sentiment, but the character MacKenzie McHale sure can deliver those lines. And yesterday, I was gifted with even more revelation about our potential, at KNOM, to facilitate something positive and meaningful for our Western Alaskan community.
Courtney and I decided to switch things up a little with our weekly call-in show, Sounding Board. If you’re not familiar with the show, it’s every Thursday morning at 10 (this year, back on a weekly schedule!), and Matt and the volunteers rotate through so that two people pick the topic and host each week. This year so far, we’ve covered everything from summer subsistence recipes to alcohol and the law in our communities.
After the heat of the election and tackling serious topics in the news and on the call-in show for the past couple of weeks, I think Courtney and I were both thirsty for human connection—something a bit more casual and accessible. And it’s no secret that we’re still trying to figure out what types of shows will get people to call in. Talking live on the radio is difficult! It takes courage to share your opinion with a large audience. (Would I do it if it wasn’t part of my job? Shhh…don’t ask me questions…I’m the reporter—I ask the questions here. Hmph.)
So, as the sun began to rise in downtown Nome on Thursday morning, Courtney and I welcomed our listeners to “Stories We Tell,” and miraculously, the stories flooded in.
A few times, I forgot we were in the middle of a radio call-in show. I was lost in the stories, laughing when our callers laughed, so glad we could facilitate this heartwarming hour that was probably my favorite moment so far of feeling community over the airwaves. Our phone lines were filled for almost the entire hour.
It’s easy to be self-critical. It’s easy to wonder: are we doing this right? When you’re new and everything is new and challenges and mistakes and learning happen every single day, usually publicly — well, it becomes easy to doubt yourself.
And then other days, by chance, just when you need it the most… you get to be a part of the moments when we get it absolutely right.
