After nearly twenty years in the newspaper business, I can honestly say I've never had that cinematic experience of dashing through the newsroom shouting "stop the presses." And I've never seen anyone else do it. It happens in the movies but not in reality. Most paper's run their presses in a location different than the news operation, so you can't run towards the pressroom, push open the doors breathlessly, and try to raise your voice louder than the roaring presses to alert the foreman we'll need to make a change. But sometimes, you really, really wish you could. Because sometimes, you really do need to make a change. In tomorrow's newspaper or your life.
Right now, I'm having one of those moments. In the past few months, I've shared with you some difficult times going on at the newspaper I work at. The financial situation in the entire newspaper industry is dire and we are no different.
In late July, we were surprised to learn the paper would be sold unless 200-230 full time employees took a buyout and two unions negotiated new deals. We were given until the first October to decide about the buyout.
Just before this news came out, I'd been having thoughts about the ghosts of careers not explored. Those jobs that always sounded interesting to me but I'd missed out on since I got caught up in the news game at the tender age of 17. Meeting another kid that age and intensely curious about the business made me thing about the other paths I've considered over the years.
For two months, I went through a lot of self discovery. Big stuff. Hard stuff. I acknowledged that people every where are transitioning in their lives. That was a good start but it didn't make it easier to decide what to do. Part of the difficulty for me was knowing that whatever I decided, I was not the one in control. The company had the right to make the last call on who stays and who goes. I was afraid to get my hopes up. I didn't want to open up to that place where my deepest, truest desire was exposed only to have it stepped on. I was afraid to talk about what I wanted in this space here and outside for fear it would not come to be. I was afraid I would look foolish. Then I got an email from Joan with the subject line "chasing your dreams." This one line from her letter "
You needn't say you will do it... only that you long to do it" just cracked me open deep down in there. Once it had a little opening, my desire just grew and grew like a ball of bread dough rising in it's safe warm bowl protected by a tea towel.
Still sticky and warm, not ready to be shared, I kept my dough ball of a secret to myself and a chosen few. Sweets, our parents, Cyndemouse, JPo, T-La, Joan, Leonie and a few more were in on my secret and helped encourage me along the way to pursue my dream. Now, I am ready to share.
I long to be a chef.
As Joan suggested, I thought long and hard about what I long for. With hard work and a little luck I hope this dream takes off in directions even I can't imagine now.
I long to dedicate myself to food full time. I want to learn everything about where my food comes from, how I can use it most creatively and how I can cook it properly. I'd like to continue on in media, first with a new food blog, which I am in the process of developing. With writing, photography, video and hands on demonstrations, I want to to share what I've learned with other cooks, whatever their level of expertise- the very beginner, the average home cook, and the enthusiastic food obsessed. I also have a desire to start a program that helps food bank clients learn how to cook nutritious, affordable meals for their families at home. I want to share the empowerment you feel when you learn to grow your own food and prepare it for yourself. I long to make unfussy, fantastic tasty food for people that will make them happier and healthier. It is my heart's desire to stand in front of a stove all day, wearing an apron, singing, preparing dishes that will make diners close their eyes and just absorb the whole experience of what they are tasting and then open their eyes and smile.
I could go on for hours or days about my passion for food. Which made the decision for me really. In September, I rather cryptically referred to having made a decision. Still wanting to play my cards close to my vest, I kept my decision to apply for the buyout quiet.
One benefit of having this ordeal take several months was an increase in my confidence level. I used to think my getting to where I am professionally today was some sort of a fluke. Then I took a resume workshop. At the end of the day, I realized I have a fine resume. I got to where I am by working hard and being engaged every day. I will do that again in a different field. The skills that I have can be transferred to a different discipline.
These last few months, I used my time productively by researching culinary programs, preparing a proposal for working in food media, traveling to BlogHer specifically to meet successful food bloggers for advice before attempting to launch one of my mine own, talking to anyone I can about working in culinary fields. The more questions I asked and people I met made me feel more and more ready to make the leap.
Things got dicey at the beginning of October. Great news came that the newspaper would not be sold. But so many employees applied for the buyout there were complications deciding how many would be allowed to go. I was in agony. After letting my heart open and my imagination run wild, I feared I wouldn't make the cut. For a week, I freaked out. Then I sweated for a week writing a proposal for editors that suggested if I did not make the cut, I'd like to go to culinary school part time and concentrate on creating content for the food section of the paper. Finally a meeting was called with an announcement.
They decided to let 151 people from the newsroom staff take the buyout.
I got it!
On December 8th, I start culinary school full time at Promise Culinary School in New Brunswick. That's the school I spent a day in doing a video profile on a student in the program. I got the chance to observe the school and sit down afterwards with the head chef to discuss how I would fit into the program. Then I went to a Harvest Festival community event there one evening. I talked with the pastry chef instructor extensively. I saw people in the community coming together over food here. I just know this is the program for me. It is not one of the fancier schools out there. Which means it does not come with the fancy price tag. In six months, I can get a Culinary Arts certificate and the chops I need to get started in my new career.
I think that's worth running around the neighborhood clanging a pot with a big spoon to celebrate, since stopping the presses isn't an option.
