Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Pumped
Our profs have always told us that we'd have the most fun with stories that we were actually interested in. I had an awesome opportunity to mix business with pleasure when I popped into the LFP for a volunteer shift last week and the city editor asked me if I knew anything about history -- more specifically about Lt. Gen. Sir Arthur Currie, and his role at Vimy Ridge. I know quite a bit about Currie, a Strathroy/Kerwood native, through my work at Museum Strathroy-Caradoc, and had a blast talking to sources. So it was a win-win situation for the LFP and I. My boss was even able to get in on the action, showcasing some Currie-related items from the museum collection as the main photo for the piece.
It looks amazing in print, but an online version will have to do.
"Great tactician came from Middlesex roots."
It looks amazing in print, but an online version will have to do.
"Great tactician came from Middlesex roots."
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
First-run
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Cough
Friday, March 16, 2007
Reflecting on journalism
Journalism is probably the most social field you can get into, seeing as how you get paid to talk to people about things they are doing and feeling. Of course, psychologists, police officers and lawyers share the same task. :) But in the words of my radio prof from summer term, Jim van Horne, "Who has more fun than us?"
This week I've interviewed women trying to clinch federal Liberal nominations and high school kids being trained in professional theatre. In the past I've talked to MPs, city councillors, cancer survivors, butchers, 70-year-old runners, doctors and giant mascots (although that wasn't so much an interview as a series of waves). I've talked to many more people, but these are the only ones that come to mind right now. When I was at Global I crossed paths with Julian Fantino, Dalton McGuinty, Elizabeth May, countless healthcare workers, and even the Prime Minister, although he and I didn't actually talk (some day, Stephen... some day).
But it is always the 'everyday' people that stay with me: the elderly man trying to care for his wife who has Alzheimers, the farm woman open about her fight with breast cancer, the young guy who bikes his compost and recycling to work every week because his 22-story apartment building doesn't have green programs. I remember the two guys running a small grain elevator affected by corn mould. I remember a municipal candidate who invited me to her home for coffee and opened up to me about her early struggles. I've cried over stories, but I've also cried *because* of stories.
Admittedly, people were more eager to talk to me when I had a name like "Global Television" behind me. But it's usually the people who are open to a name like "Western Journalism" who make the most time for you, and touch you the most.
This week I've interviewed women trying to clinch federal Liberal nominations and high school kids being trained in professional theatre. In the past I've talked to MPs, city councillors, cancer survivors, butchers, 70-year-old runners, doctors and giant mascots (although that wasn't so much an interview as a series of waves). I've talked to many more people, but these are the only ones that come to mind right now. When I was at Global I crossed paths with Julian Fantino, Dalton McGuinty, Elizabeth May, countless healthcare workers, and even the Prime Minister, although he and I didn't actually talk (some day, Stephen... some day).
But it is always the 'everyday' people that stay with me: the elderly man trying to care for his wife who has Alzheimers, the farm woman open about her fight with breast cancer, the young guy who bikes his compost and recycling to work every week because his 22-story apartment building doesn't have green programs. I remember the two guys running a small grain elevator affected by corn mould. I remember a municipal candidate who invited me to her home for coffee and opened up to me about her early struggles. I've cried over stories, but I've also cried *because* of stories.
Admittedly, people were more eager to talk to me when I had a name like "Global Television" behind me. But it's usually the people who are open to a name like "Western Journalism" who make the most time for you, and touch you the most.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Longing
I know it's been awhile since I posted here, but I'm at a loss as to what to write.
There's just under five weeks left in our program. Five weeks. It's hard to believe. I remember when I first started, I felt so overwhelmed and under-motivated that I didn't think I'd make it. And now we're all frantically finishing our final docs/features and celebrating the near-end of media theory. That doesn't mean the stress-level is decreasing at all. We're still grasping for ideas and interviews weekly, just as we did 10 months ago. Pitch. Chase. Interview. Write. Repeat. But I'm not going to lie, everyone in this program is incredibly supportive of one another.
Yesterday marked the first feeble return of spring--or winter's death knell, as Dan called it. One all-too-short day of sunshine and plus-14 temperatures brought hibernating Londoners out of the woodwork and on to the patios of Richmond Row. A small group of us j-students met at Molly Bloom's to de-stress and debate halter tops. We'll have spent every season together by the time we graduate.
My roomie and I also gave notice on our apartment last week, meaning I'll be moving... again. I'm desperate to settle somewhere, to nest and paint and just have some stability. I've lived in this apartment for nearly a year, which is longer than I've lived anywhere in the last five. I remember when Marie and I moved in, we swore we would never move again. In fact, we joked about living until we were 80 and dying here, so that our friends and family would have to move all of our junk. But life keeps going, and it didn't make sense for either of us to renew the lease. We're both headed back to the A-dot, for the summer at least, or until bigger changes happen...
There's just under five weeks left in our program. Five weeks. It's hard to believe. I remember when I first started, I felt so overwhelmed and under-motivated that I didn't think I'd make it. And now we're all frantically finishing our final docs/features and celebrating the near-end of media theory. That doesn't mean the stress-level is decreasing at all. We're still grasping for ideas and interviews weekly, just as we did 10 months ago. Pitch. Chase. Interview. Write. Repeat. But I'm not going to lie, everyone in this program is incredibly supportive of one another.
Yesterday marked the first feeble return of spring--or winter's death knell, as Dan called it. One all-too-short day of sunshine and plus-14 temperatures brought hibernating Londoners out of the woodwork and on to the patios of Richmond Row. A small group of us j-students met at Molly Bloom's to de-stress and debate halter tops. We'll have spent every season together by the time we graduate.
My roomie and I also gave notice on our apartment last week, meaning I'll be moving... again. I'm desperate to settle somewhere, to nest and paint and just have some stability. I've lived in this apartment for nearly a year, which is longer than I've lived anywhere in the last five. I remember when Marie and I moved in, we swore we would never move again. In fact, we joked about living until we were 80 and dying here, so that our friends and family would have to move all of our junk. But life keeps going, and it didn't make sense for either of us to renew the lease. We're both headed back to the A-dot, for the summer at least, or until bigger changes happen...
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Do you see them?
London hasn't received nearly the amount of snow that Hamilton has, resulting in... absolutely no snow days. But that doesn't mean that I can't enjoy a snowy winter scene. Behind my apartment building is a random empty field--an oasis of sorts in the middle of the city. Today the deer came out to play.
