Today's theme, nostalgia.
You know that song that comes on the radio and immediately brings you back to another time in your life. Maybe it takes you back to a campfire, surrounded by friends, drinking beers and singing songs. Maybe it takes you to a summer, riding on the highway with the windows down, your hair blowing in the wind. Or maybe it takes you to an ending point. A time in your life where one chapter closed, and the future was uncertain. A diploma, a speech, some smiles, and some tears. Today is graduation day.
For me, graduation is Green Day, the Time of Your Life.
"Another turning point a fork stuck in the road. Life grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go." Being only 23 years old, graduation isn't that far behind me. I still vividly remember marching into the Spokane Arena, cameras flashing, heart pounding. I remember walking accross the stage, sweaty palms grabbing my hard earned diploma, and briefly turning for a quick glance at Mom. I can see the caps flying in the air, jubilated faces staring them down. I remember the excitement of being done.
"So make the best of this test and don't ask why. It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time." After the graduation celebration was over, there was that growing up factor that I still had to deal with. The leaving friends behind, and branching out on my own. As I packed my things for Colorado, part of me wished it wasn't over yet. Had I made the best of my experience there? Had I taken advantage of all the wonderful opportunities at my fingertips? Whether yes, or no, graduation meant it was over. I was out of chances. I was leaving.
I think about the rollercoaster of emotions that I felt during those final weeks, and then I multiply it by 4. Why 4 you ask? Once for Justina, Laura, Nathan, and Walker.... the quads, who graduated from highschool today. News First has been following the story of the Colorado Springs quadruplets for 18 years now. We already had video of the four 1 year olds planting their face in birthday cake. Today, we got video of them with diplomas. A stark contrast, from the young children they once were. A testament to time, continually passing.
At 10 am we showed up to their house off a small dirt road outside of Colorado Springs. Immediately we were greeted by balloons, and senior pictures... followed closely by four rushing teenages. One by one, as mom wiped away tears in the corner, they sat in a chair and told us about family vacations, hectic dinner tables, and school plays. And then, as quickly as we came in, they were gone. Off to graduate. Alone with mom, and some close friends, we spoke about her babies. She told us the story of how they ran off on the first day of kindergarten, forgetting to give her a kiss. And slowly followed it with a tear, saying "they can't run accross the stage today..." It was obvious how proud she was of her babies. They were all going to college, well rounded people, individuals. But her pain was written accross her face, like an open book. She would miss the noise.
The juxtaposition of emotions, simultaneously running through her veins, evoked a sense of nostalgia in me. It was how I felt, that very day, I received my diploma. What is it about graduations, that make us so sad? Why are we afraid of saying goodbye to the past and moving on to bigger and better things? Is it that we are never quite sure, if they truly will be bigger and better? Or is it that we think we've found perfection already? Is it a fear that all the good we've done, will fall apart without us there? And a wonder about whether we will fade from the lives of loved ones and friends? I think it may be all of the above. We work for the day that we want to never come. We long for the papers to be through, and tests to be done... but cling to the comfort of knowing what's next, and where our path is leading.
For the quads, the next step is college... and then who knows. For me, it was Colorado, a life in news. A chance to make my dreams come true. A chance to become the person I always said I would. Now that I'm through with graduations, and unsure of when this chapter will close, the weight is on my shoulders to seize the day. It is up to me to walk this path that I'm on, and trust that it is leading me in the right direction.
"It's something unpredicatable, but in the end it's right. I hope you had the time of your life."
here is a link to the story: http://www.koaa.com/aaaa_top_stories/x831215820/Quadruplets-graduate-high-school
Showing posts with label news. Show all posts
Showing posts with label news. Show all posts
Friday, May 22, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
DAYS 3 & 4
DAYS 3 & 4
Ahhh, the weekend. I have one word, one thought. HOORAY!! Well, kinda. This weekend I am faced with an interesting dilemma. I'm moving (and I don't mean moving my butt more, or moving my ass to the the gym). I mean moving for real. Like packing up my things in boxes (that I have yet to get) and moving to another apartment (that I have yet to find). That is the real dilemma. Where am I going to live? Luckily, I don't have to move today. I have one week to figure out that answer. And while I'm at it, I might as well figure out how I'm going to pay for this new apartment. Which brings me to my next dilemma, which pretty much all photogs can relate to, how do I support myself while I am pursuing this so-called "dream?"
While I'm on the topic of money, I'd like to make one thing clear. We photographers, don't make any! Well, not literally, I mean I do get a paycheck every two weeks. Most of the time though, it is so small that I'm convinced they've forgotten to pay me for a couple of days. I'm making less then I made when I was going to school. My non college degree self, who still received free healthcare from my parents, made more money. My little sister makes more money babysitting! So why do I do it? Why not quit, get another job that pays me more money (using that college degree that I worked so hard for) and stop complaining so much? I'd like to say that I stick with this job because I feel like it is the only place that will challenge me to live up to my full potential, but that would be a load of crap.
For now, I'm sticking with it because the economy is in shambles and I'm not sure I could get hired at Walmart. I'm also sticking with it because it gives me something new and unexpected almost every single day. I've met the President of the United States, held baby wolves, and watched a brigade case their colors and head to war. I've seen fires, and murders. I've searched for lost children, and gone to gorilla birthday parties. Every day is a new start, a fresh begininng. Wandering into the office at 9 am, I have no idea what awaits me. I like that. I like the adrenaline of the five oclock deadline, and the competition to be number one. I like the sense of accomplishment that comes from seeing my work on the news every night.
But I digress. The point is, I'm in news, I make no money, and that isn't going to change anytime soon. So this weekend is dedicated to finding a place to live that I can afford on my meager salary. I've nabbed the free apartment guide books at the local coffee shop and sit down to find my dream home. By the end of the first book I realize I'm screwed. There are three apartments in the whole book that fall within my price range. All three of them are in the parts of town that I get called to at three am for stabbings, shootings, and other criminal activity. Don't catch my drift? They are in the ghetto. No way. No how. Not moving there. A box would be better. I just need to make sure I place my box on the North side of town.
So I give up on the apartment guide books and hit craigslist. Plan #2 consists of me finding a cool female roommate close to my age who has a room available for 400$ or less in a part of town where I'm not scared to open my windows. Easy right? Once again I am naive. I post my add, telling everyone how cheerful and easygoing I am. I tell them about my love for wine and the Chicago cubs. I don't mention that I work in news, they don't need to know that. And I wait.
As the emails pour in I begin to realize that I may need a plan three. Here are just some of the emails I received: "Hi Jessica, I know your add said that you wanted to live with young professional females, but I am a 25 year old male soldier. Don't worry though, my momma raised me right!" or "Hi! I saw your add. I'm 17 and my husband is 18. We have a room in our house if you want to check it out." or even better, " I have a room in my basement. It doesn't have any windows, but that didn't seem to be a problem for the last tenant. I think you'll like it if you check it out. Oh, did I mention I have five cats. Email me back if your interested!"
Yeah, thanks, but no thanks. Moving on to plan #3. Unfortunately, I have yet to come up with a third plan. So I sleep on it (well toss and turn all night) and wake up in the morning refreshed and ready to attack the day. Plan three. Plan three. Ummmmm. Yeah. Then, lightbulb moment. I remember a co-worker mentioning an apartment complex by work that is affordable, and decent. I didn' t want to move south, but beggars can't be choosers. I decide to give it a try.
The inside turns out to be better then expected. It isn't the Ritz Carlton, but I can deal. If I look at the upside, it is within my price range (of practically nothing) and close enough to work that I might be able to walk in the summer. I try to ignore the downside while I'm signing the paperwork. Who needs more then 530 sq ft. anyways? Who even wants air conditioning? A wall separating the bedroom from the living room, totally over rated!
So that's that. I'm moving, in five days. I'm still not really sure how I'm going to pay for it, but at least I know where it is. I know this will be a problem I encounter often throughout my life, especially if I continue down this path of news photography. But as much as I hate the uncertainty of not know where I will be living in a week, I hate the idea of giving up on my dreams even more. So I'll keep plugging away. I'll survive the summer without AC, and deal with my lack of funds one week at a time. And I'll keep having faith that one day this thing they call growing up will get easier.
Ahhh, the weekend. I have one word, one thought. HOORAY!! Well, kinda. This weekend I am faced with an interesting dilemma. I'm moving (and I don't mean moving my butt more, or moving my ass to the the gym). I mean moving for real. Like packing up my things in boxes (that I have yet to get) and moving to another apartment (that I have yet to find). That is the real dilemma. Where am I going to live? Luckily, I don't have to move today. I have one week to figure out that answer. And while I'm at it, I might as well figure out how I'm going to pay for this new apartment. Which brings me to my next dilemma, which pretty much all photogs can relate to, how do I support myself while I am pursuing this so-called "dream?"
While I'm on the topic of money, I'd like to make one thing clear. We photographers, don't make any! Well, not literally, I mean I do get a paycheck every two weeks. Most of the time though, it is so small that I'm convinced they've forgotten to pay me for a couple of days. I'm making less then I made when I was going to school. My non college degree self, who still received free healthcare from my parents, made more money. My little sister makes more money babysitting! So why do I do it? Why not quit, get another job that pays me more money (using that college degree that I worked so hard for) and stop complaining so much? I'd like to say that I stick with this job because I feel like it is the only place that will challenge me to live up to my full potential, but that would be a load of crap.
For now, I'm sticking with it because the economy is in shambles and I'm not sure I could get hired at Walmart. I'm also sticking with it because it gives me something new and unexpected almost every single day. I've met the President of the United States, held baby wolves, and watched a brigade case their colors and head to war. I've seen fires, and murders. I've searched for lost children, and gone to gorilla birthday parties. Every day is a new start, a fresh begininng. Wandering into the office at 9 am, I have no idea what awaits me. I like that. I like the adrenaline of the five oclock deadline, and the competition to be number one. I like the sense of accomplishment that comes from seeing my work on the news every night.
But I digress. The point is, I'm in news, I make no money, and that isn't going to change anytime soon. So this weekend is dedicated to finding a place to live that I can afford on my meager salary. I've nabbed the free apartment guide books at the local coffee shop and sit down to find my dream home. By the end of the first book I realize I'm screwed. There are three apartments in the whole book that fall within my price range. All three of them are in the parts of town that I get called to at three am for stabbings, shootings, and other criminal activity. Don't catch my drift? They are in the ghetto. No way. No how. Not moving there. A box would be better. I just need to make sure I place my box on the North side of town.
So I give up on the apartment guide books and hit craigslist. Plan #2 consists of me finding a cool female roommate close to my age who has a room available for 400$ or less in a part of town where I'm not scared to open my windows. Easy right? Once again I am naive. I post my add, telling everyone how cheerful and easygoing I am. I tell them about my love for wine and the Chicago cubs. I don't mention that I work in news, they don't need to know that. And I wait.
As the emails pour in I begin to realize that I may need a plan three. Here are just some of the emails I received: "Hi Jessica, I know your add said that you wanted to live with young professional females, but I am a 25 year old male soldier. Don't worry though, my momma raised me right!" or "Hi! I saw your add. I'm 17 and my husband is 18. We have a room in our house if you want to check it out." or even better, " I have a room in my basement. It doesn't have any windows, but that didn't seem to be a problem for the last tenant. I think you'll like it if you check it out. Oh, did I mention I have five cats. Email me back if your interested!"
Yeah, thanks, but no thanks. Moving on to plan #3. Unfortunately, I have yet to come up with a third plan. So I sleep on it (well toss and turn all night) and wake up in the morning refreshed and ready to attack the day. Plan three. Plan three. Ummmmm. Yeah. Then, lightbulb moment. I remember a co-worker mentioning an apartment complex by work that is affordable, and decent. I didn' t want to move south, but beggars can't be choosers. I decide to give it a try.
The inside turns out to be better then expected. It isn't the Ritz Carlton, but I can deal. If I look at the upside, it is within my price range (of practically nothing) and close enough to work that I might be able to walk in the summer. I try to ignore the downside while I'm signing the paperwork. Who needs more then 530 sq ft. anyways? Who even wants air conditioning? A wall separating the bedroom from the living room, totally over rated!
So that's that. I'm moving, in five days. I'm still not really sure how I'm going to pay for it, but at least I know where it is. I know this will be a problem I encounter often throughout my life, especially if I continue down this path of news photography. But as much as I hate the uncertainty of not know where I will be living in a week, I hate the idea of giving up on my dreams even more. So I'll keep plugging away. I'll survive the summer without AC, and deal with my lack of funds one week at a time. And I'll keep having faith that one day this thing they call growing up will get easier.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
DAY 2
Day 2
7:45 am. I wake up suprisingly refreshed. I guess that means I didn't get called out last night. That's always nice. There are two good things about today. First, it is my Friday. Second, since I didn't get called out last night, I might actually have the energy to go out after work. I'm not placing bets on that one though, who knows what the day ahead has in store for me.
10 am. I walk into work. First things first, I load my gear into the truck, make sure it has suffient gas, and sit down to check my email. Not so quick. Before I even get a "hello" I'm told to be ready to leave in five minutes. No wonder I never respond to my emails. I guess if it was something important the person would have called me anyways.
The remainder of the morning is rather uneventful. I shoot a quick interview with Lance Armstrongs cycling coach for an enterprise series about training right. Apparently his collarbone is healing nicely and he is confident he will do well this week at the Giro. And, that's about it. I couldn't ask for a better Friday. That is until 1:00 rolls around.
At 1 pm I'm shooed out the door for the Criminal Justice Center. Two young men accused of brutally murding a 21 year old disabled person over an x-box game are being advised of their charges. I hate these things. I hate sitting at this nasty place. I hate the look on the families faces when they see their loved ones in orange jump suits. Hopefully no family members will show up.
It's now 1:30 and the advisement is about to begin. I'm plugged into the box on the wall, ready to roll. The audio sounds awful, but it's not an issue with my camera, so I'll just have to deal with it. I reach down to hit record when, "Who's is plugged in?" echoes accross the room. I look up, "I am." I say meekly. "Why?" "You don't have permission. Turn it off." Well, I guess that's the end of that. No more advisement. I unplug but stay put. At least I can get the information.
The first young man walks up to the camera. The judge informs him that he is being charged with first degree murder. There is no bond set. I hear weeping behind me and turn to see two women. One is a bit older then the other. Both are sobbing, reaching the point of being hysterical. There is a young man standing next to them, tell them it will be ok. I can't help but avert my eyes. I feel like I'm intruding on a personal moment. The advisement continues.
He is told that his next court date is set for May 18th, and asked if he understands? Then it's over. Done. I should probably try to talk to the family. If they say something to me I'll be the hero of the day. As I'm coiling my cables I contemplate at least getting some video of the family crying. I should. Afterall, it is my job. But I keep coiling the cables. What is stopping me from just pointing the camera at them and pressing record? I could just walk over and try to talk to them. I don't even need to bring the camera. But I don't do that either. If my boss finds out, I'm probably going to get a stern talking to. But I walk away, get into my car, and leave.
There is something about suffering that is terribly personal. I'm assuming the two women were this mans mother and grandmother. I can't imagine what they are going through right now. I'm sure they never imagined their little boy was capable of such an awful act. Or maybe they knew this day was inevitable. Either way, I have no place in that moment. I know that. They know that. But the news knows nothing about personal moments. As a medium, it is our job to insert ourselves into personal moments, capture it on tape, and broadcast it for the world to see. That's what makes good tv. But today I couldn't do it. One day after mothers day, I couldnt look this grieving mother in the eyes and pretend like I felt no sympathy for her suffering. I couldn't be part of it. So I walked away.
Did I do the right thing?? I don't know. I guess that depends on how we define right. Did I do my job, no. I knew that from the start. Hours later I'm still thinking about what I should have done. In my heart, I treated the person the way I would have liked to be treated. In my head, I can't get over the fact that I didn't do my job. I guess that's the tricky thing about news. Where does empathy and sympathy need to end, in order for us to deliver to our viewers the best news in town. How can we be humane and number 1 at the same time?
I guess only time will help me answer that one. Thank god I have the next two days off...
7:45 am. I wake up suprisingly refreshed. I guess that means I didn't get called out last night. That's always nice. There are two good things about today. First, it is my Friday. Second, since I didn't get called out last night, I might actually have the energy to go out after work. I'm not placing bets on that one though, who knows what the day ahead has in store for me.
10 am. I walk into work. First things first, I load my gear into the truck, make sure it has suffient gas, and sit down to check my email. Not so quick. Before I even get a "hello" I'm told to be ready to leave in five minutes. No wonder I never respond to my emails. I guess if it was something important the person would have called me anyways.
The remainder of the morning is rather uneventful. I shoot a quick interview with Lance Armstrongs cycling coach for an enterprise series about training right. Apparently his collarbone is healing nicely and he is confident he will do well this week at the Giro. And, that's about it. I couldn't ask for a better Friday. That is until 1:00 rolls around.
At 1 pm I'm shooed out the door for the Criminal Justice Center. Two young men accused of brutally murding a 21 year old disabled person over an x-box game are being advised of their charges. I hate these things. I hate sitting at this nasty place. I hate the look on the families faces when they see their loved ones in orange jump suits. Hopefully no family members will show up.
It's now 1:30 and the advisement is about to begin. I'm plugged into the box on the wall, ready to roll. The audio sounds awful, but it's not an issue with my camera, so I'll just have to deal with it. I reach down to hit record when, "Who's is plugged in?" echoes accross the room. I look up, "I am." I say meekly. "Why?" "You don't have permission. Turn it off." Well, I guess that's the end of that. No more advisement. I unplug but stay put. At least I can get the information.
The first young man walks up to the camera. The judge informs him that he is being charged with first degree murder. There is no bond set. I hear weeping behind me and turn to see two women. One is a bit older then the other. Both are sobbing, reaching the point of being hysterical. There is a young man standing next to them, tell them it will be ok. I can't help but avert my eyes. I feel like I'm intruding on a personal moment. The advisement continues.
He is told that his next court date is set for May 18th, and asked if he understands? Then it's over. Done. I should probably try to talk to the family. If they say something to me I'll be the hero of the day. As I'm coiling my cables I contemplate at least getting some video of the family crying. I should. Afterall, it is my job. But I keep coiling the cables. What is stopping me from just pointing the camera at them and pressing record? I could just walk over and try to talk to them. I don't even need to bring the camera. But I don't do that either. If my boss finds out, I'm probably going to get a stern talking to. But I walk away, get into my car, and leave.
There is something about suffering that is terribly personal. I'm assuming the two women were this mans mother and grandmother. I can't imagine what they are going through right now. I'm sure they never imagined their little boy was capable of such an awful act. Or maybe they knew this day was inevitable. Either way, I have no place in that moment. I know that. They know that. But the news knows nothing about personal moments. As a medium, it is our job to insert ourselves into personal moments, capture it on tape, and broadcast it for the world to see. That's what makes good tv. But today I couldn't do it. One day after mothers day, I couldnt look this grieving mother in the eyes and pretend like I felt no sympathy for her suffering. I couldn't be part of it. So I walked away.
Did I do the right thing?? I don't know. I guess that depends on how we define right. Did I do my job, no. I knew that from the start. Hours later I'm still thinking about what I should have done. In my heart, I treated the person the way I would have liked to be treated. In my head, I can't get over the fact that I didn't do my job. I guess that's the tricky thing about news. Where does empathy and sympathy need to end, in order for us to deliver to our viewers the best news in town. How can we be humane and number 1 at the same time?
I guess only time will help me answer that one. Thank god I have the next two days off...
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