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I love journalism - perhaps to a fault. In my two decades or so in the profession, I’ve made certain life choices centered around career ambitions. At 45 years young this weekend, I don’t regret a thing. When I mentioned my age to a friend, he told me I was now legally eligible to make age discrimination claims to employers if ever I wanted. I laughed then quickly bemoaned the thought of “getting old.” But the truth is, I think I’ve always been an old soul. Growing up, I was one of those kids who loved engaging in adult conversation. In my teens, I jived better with doctoral students than I ever did with any of my peers. By the time I was 20, I was working as a TV newswoman among serious old-timers who covered Vietnam and lived to tell about it. And so, today, when I'm told that my brand of journalism is “old school” in comparison to today’s fraught landscape of news media, it’s the kindest compliment. I always knew I wanted to be a journalist. I grew up watching Ted Koppel on Nightline with my grandfather and took special interest in Dan Rather’s reporting on the front lines of the Afghanistan War. The tribalism he explained was remarkably relatable for a Native kid like me who bounced around Indian Country quite a bit and easily identified Indigenous similarities but also distinct differences. This week’s newsletter is short and sweet and centered around refining a journalism project that I started because I knew not what else to do. In two weeks, Indigenously will mark its first anniversary which launched in direct response to the surge we all felt in the aftermath of George Floyd’s murder a year ago this week. I am constantly asking myself how to improve this platform and now I’m seeking your input.
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