Ego
Sometimes I hate
being a reporter in the capital city. There are so many highs and lows
associated with reporting that fluctuate daily – one day one of my stories will
get more than 600 Facebook likes (that fact that the success of a story is measured
in that way is gross, I know) and I’m on top of the world. The next day, a
coworker’s story gets thousands of likes and I’m bitter with jealousy. One day
I get my first professional awards (a feat I feared wouldn’t happen) and I feel
completely validated. The next day I get scooped on a story idea I’ve had written
on a post-it for several months, an important story I should’ve been keeping
tabs on. Should’ve. And I beat myself up wondering why I hadn’t.
If you can’t tell, I’m in a low moment. I’m also sick. I’ve been sick since Friday and I’m wallowing in real head pain and mental head pain.
The Alaska Press Club awards night was held in Anchorage Saturday night and – as I was in Juneau trying to recover – I got word through text and Twitter that I had won first place in Best Sports Reporting for a story I did on a Juneau sailing regatta and second place in Best Education Reporting for stories I did on the Tlingit language revitalization effort, focusing primarily on one man who does Tlingit ventriloquism. I was ecstatic, brimming with pride inside. I’ve never won an award for my professional work and, as petty as it seems, it somehow confirmed that I’m in the right profession.
Jason DeRose, the western bureau chief for NPR, came through Juneau on his way to Press Club training and spent time at KTOO providing group training and one-on-one vocal guidance. Since joining KTOO last June, this was the first legit straight up radio training I’ve received and it felt amazing. There was no mention of social media or our website or TV – just words of advice and encouragement on how to make good radio.
At one point – I think it had to do with asking a co-worker to go inside the studio with you as you’re voicing for the purpose of getting an outsider’s opinion on how you sound – Jason mentioned putting our egos aside for the sake of making a story better.
Ego – the “I,” conceit, self-importance, self-image.
This is my problem. I may fool myself to think that I don’t have much of an ego because I have relatively low self-confidence – something I’m constantly trying to find the root of – but nothing can hide the fact that my ego is much too large. Why else am I in journalism? Why else do I write?
I once interviewed a reporter who had allegedly gotten fired from her job in an unethical way and we talked about her experience in journalism, how she got started. She talked about being naturally shy (which I am as well) and how she felt uncomfortable with the idea of a byline – putting her name by her work. I didn’t express it at the time, but that shocked me. To me, that’s the point of writing – the byline. To be able to read your name by your work, or to hear it on the radio.
I’m likely sounding more terrible than I truly am. I originally got into writing to tell people’s stories and that’s still why I do it. When I think about leaving radio reporting, I know I would miss talking to complete strangers and asking them questions. In many ways, I feel like I’m missing out on a great opportunity. Every day that I’m a reporter, I can be recording voices that don’t usually get to be heard. I can be telling the stories that wouldn’t otherwise be told. But isn’t that the goal of every reporter? Don’t we all want to do important stories? There’s that ego again – imagining that I could be that person to unlock hidden truths.
I wanted to write right now to feel better about being scooped. I wanted to vent about being sick.
This is what I know – I have an ego. As much as I hate to admit it, I have one. And I need to learn, more than anything, to put it aside. If I get scooped, I need to just be happy that the story was told. And I need to learn from it. I tell myself this each time I get scooped – that it’s a learning experience. But maybe I haven’t learned the lesson enough. Clearly.
And I need to give into my sickness. I need to not stress that I’m not working on stories that should’ve been done Friday. I need to accept that I can’t always be part of the conversation. And accept that what I have to say isn’t always that important anyway.
If you can’t tell, I’m in a low moment. I’m also sick. I’ve been sick since Friday and I’m wallowing in real head pain and mental head pain.
The Alaska Press Club awards night was held in Anchorage Saturday night and – as I was in Juneau trying to recover – I got word through text and Twitter that I had won first place in Best Sports Reporting for a story I did on a Juneau sailing regatta and second place in Best Education Reporting for stories I did on the Tlingit language revitalization effort, focusing primarily on one man who does Tlingit ventriloquism. I was ecstatic, brimming with pride inside. I’ve never won an award for my professional work and, as petty as it seems, it somehow confirmed that I’m in the right profession.
Jason DeRose, the western bureau chief for NPR, came through Juneau on his way to Press Club training and spent time at KTOO providing group training and one-on-one vocal guidance. Since joining KTOO last June, this was the first legit straight up radio training I’ve received and it felt amazing. There was no mention of social media or our website or TV – just words of advice and encouragement on how to make good radio.
At one point – I think it had to do with asking a co-worker to go inside the studio with you as you’re voicing for the purpose of getting an outsider’s opinion on how you sound – Jason mentioned putting our egos aside for the sake of making a story better.
Ego – the “I,” conceit, self-importance, self-image.
This is my problem. I may fool myself to think that I don’t have much of an ego because I have relatively low self-confidence – something I’m constantly trying to find the root of – but nothing can hide the fact that my ego is much too large. Why else am I in journalism? Why else do I write?
I once interviewed a reporter who had allegedly gotten fired from her job in an unethical way and we talked about her experience in journalism, how she got started. She talked about being naturally shy (which I am as well) and how she felt uncomfortable with the idea of a byline – putting her name by her work. I didn’t express it at the time, but that shocked me. To me, that’s the point of writing – the byline. To be able to read your name by your work, or to hear it on the radio.
I’m likely sounding more terrible than I truly am. I originally got into writing to tell people’s stories and that’s still why I do it. When I think about leaving radio reporting, I know I would miss talking to complete strangers and asking them questions. In many ways, I feel like I’m missing out on a great opportunity. Every day that I’m a reporter, I can be recording voices that don’t usually get to be heard. I can be telling the stories that wouldn’t otherwise be told. But isn’t that the goal of every reporter? Don’t we all want to do important stories? There’s that ego again – imagining that I could be that person to unlock hidden truths.
I wanted to write right now to feel better about being scooped. I wanted to vent about being sick.
This is what I know – I have an ego. As much as I hate to admit it, I have one. And I need to learn, more than anything, to put it aside. If I get scooped, I need to just be happy that the story was told. And I need to learn from it. I tell myself this each time I get scooped – that it’s a learning experience. But maybe I haven’t learned the lesson enough. Clearly.
And I need to give into my sickness. I need to not stress that I’m not working on stories that should’ve been done Friday. I need to accept that I can’t always be part of the conversation. And accept that what I have to say isn’t always that important anyway.
posted by Siapiau | 2:52 PM
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