“Hey, could you sweeten this audio for me?”

Very many times, when beginning to learn the ropes in television, it became obvious, especially during the last moments of transition from more traditional to digital editing processes, that there were many even-more-behind-the-scenes artisans upon whose work I would rely heavily.

It would have been very easy simply not to acknowledge this at all (and I hoped I acknowledged it enough), but I have felt inspired recently to think more deeply about the contributions of those whose jobs at least seem to require them to be surrounded by professionals with totally different foci than their own.

In a newspaper organization, I remember that when an art department representative needed a caption or other writing service, they would urgently call out to my team, “wordies!” for emergency support. But I certainly never felt undervalued or slighted for this.

Working in a documentary production company, an editor once shared with me a musical parody describing the plight of video editors in corporate settings who felt unseen and underappreciated as creators. And it got me thinking about the difference.

“I’m really glad I asked you to sweeten this project’s audio and then you did the thing I was talking about … you know, that we both know all about,” it was tempting to say as a beginner in television. I wanted so much to express my appreciation for the world of video editors by simply learning the basics of their jobs but was told that as an editorial person it would not be necessary for me to learn how to push buttons or turn knobs. While well-intentioned, I felt this thinking deepened a divide.

Later, while immersed in environments in which design was considered the only language that mattered, I noted a reverse bias.

There were many times I felt the world of visuals-only communication seemed almost oblivious to, if not dubious of, the world of words. To read a paper by a skilled architectural designer, I found, can be to wonder whether their products could possibly have been generated by the same person.

I love so many messages broadcast by popular inspirational speaker Joyce Meyer and, in one, I found a recent statement to be a particularly relevant antidote to what can seem a deep chasm between professional fields that, arguably, need one another: “You don’t know more than you know,” she said in a larger talk on understanding.

Not long ago, in feeling terribly stuck and unsure about next steps, I heard quite suddenly from a friend with whom I had not spoken in months. He wanted to convey to me a sense of encouragement and optimism about my future that was so kindly-timed, and so heartfelt, that, even in the absence of major progress outwardly, it made a difference to my heart.

Particularly as I attempt to reach out and share what little I have learned about several topics recently, I am most grateful to be able to connect – and reconnect – with those who see what I do not always see – and who know what I don’t know.