Recently, I experienced the unusual feeling of being not just enamored, but awe-struck, by the sight of Sirius outside my window. So many times, I’ve felt incredulous when reading accounts of the dynamic appearance of stars viewed without telescopes, but Sirius truly pulses.

Still, in marveling at its beauty, it felt hard to ponder anything but all that was happening in the world at the moment Sirius was emitting the light reaching me at the moment it caught my eye. And all the light that is headed toward each one of us at any given moment, even when we are unaware of it.

For some reason, this past week in particular, I’ve felt a greater sense of closeness to people whose lives, even when they have not overlapped with my own, have inspired me and and have helped me feel like I am part of something larger. Even when significant contributions occurred in just a moment of bravery, of kindness, or of insight, they have managed to effect enormous, palpable change.

While I by no means imagine all of my contributions are worthy of being read or considered, I do still wonder whether whatever is of value in my work, having been shared with the world, will reach others in the right way and at the right moment.

On Persistence

Last night I also, unexpectedly, in reading the news, came across a story about CNN’s relocation (back) to Midtown from Downtown Atlanta. And I still find it surprising: It is still very difficult for me to see a photo of CNN Center or a photo of myself from my early years in Atlanta and not cry for a long time. After my experience of agreeing to work for a team about which I felt uncomfortable from the very first moment, how, I still wonder, is it possible for so much to seem to be lost over the course of just one day? While, on the one hand, this was an important lesson for me in not going against my heart (priority lists need to go out the window once God has told me whether a major decision, like taking a job, feels deeply right or not), I am still left wondering whether purpose remains in it for helping others. I still feel that this experience, of going from what feels right to call full citizenship, and real inclusion, to a designation that may best be termed a sort of prey, has helped show me what other people, too, have encountered, in media companies, certainly, but throughout history in more severe ways, perhaps not always feeling there were enough people to speak out against such designations.

During the period I felt most trapped by the Larry King Live organization and was treated in the most terrible ways by a man who, before the day I moved into an apartment I did not want, had always seemed to be on his best behavior, I started to feel so disconnected from my relationship to God that I sometimes felt almost numb.

Today, I feel very close to God, I feel like myself again, and I hardly ever cry without thanking Him. I am hurting, I am hurting, I am hurting, I am hurting, I acknowledge; but I also know there are things worse than hurting.

For so long, at least in talking in more formal settings about media industry reform, I have tried to focus only on solutions and not on the details of my experience during those latter years at CNN, knowing these are not always bright or heartwarming memories. And I often feel compassion for those whose misdeeds are featured in others’ stories. (How often have I wondered, in reading even ancient histories, about characters who are mentioned only briefly? What did Alexander the coppersmith do?)

But what if there are times when it is necessary to talk, and talk openly, about something difficult?

I still wonder whether it wasn’t at least partially unhelpful for so many Hollywood women, even if they did mean well, to co-opt – and then to sell – portions of the women’s movement in journalism, rather than allowing women journalists’ ideas to be heard. And I continue to feel gratitude to the few people (and celebrity Ricky Gervais in particular) who pointed this out publicly.

On Balms

Ever since spending time during the pandemic deeply pondering what experiences in my life have been most edifying, encouraging, and inspirational, I’ve found it surprising to realize how helpful it can be to remember moments during which the most miraculous-feeling kindnesses in my life have occurred. And I’ve wondered often, when pondering these, even if they occurred in childhood, how does it feel like all of these expressions of love are happening now? And my answer is that, in a way, maybe they are.

If it is true that our true selves are most at home in what could be termed an eternal, dynamic, indigenous-feeling unified moment, even if it is hard for us to understand or even to imagine, wouldn’t moments of real love be reminders of this one moment, or, one time-free eternity?

So why does it sometimes (although, certainly not always) still feel so urgent to address dark moments?

I’ve just re-watched a lovely TED talk from a former CNN International staffer I do not even know but whose influence on the company I remember from my time there; and I was reminded of a period during which I invested considerable effort to join this, a unit I’d considered largely insulated from ratings-first and power-first pressures that seemed to be subsuming so much of the company, although seemingly almost totally unacknowledged. But I recall, in one conference call, such intense dismay from CNN International staff articulating changes they were observing, asserting that this was not the organization they knew, and pleading with management to know why was the company doing this, to no satisfying answer.

I still feel that the journalism sector needs to be reformed for the well-being of so many people; and I wonder whether the continual pull at my heartstrings to talk about what happened to me at CNN, although it was a long time ago, has to do with this.

As journalism corporations over the past 15 years have transitioned from empowering to dominating postures, they must, I believe, be held to account by entities that better value basic concepts of human rights – not only in word, but in deed. This is as, over the same period, it at least seems to me these organizations’ effects on the world have become ones of net harm – not always only because of slanted or sensationalized news coverage but, at least as often, because of news suppression for the purpose of power accumulation.

Anytime I see Anderson Cooper, or even Jake Tapper, in a news story, as I believe these are the CNN representatives who may have been most likely to be aware of my situation when I was trying to speak about what I had experienced at the company, I feel practically nauseous; and it feels hard for me not to wonder whether the world has become almost infinitely corrupt. But has it?

Why do so many people, throughout media, who seem to be a part of efforts to buttress corporate media dominance seem to be so related, either directly or indirectly, to the Larry King Live organization or the Today Show? I do not believe it is because there was necessarily anything particularly powerful about these organizations, which seemed to derive so much via proximity rather than value addition, but there does seem to be a sort of clique of their alumni in place that has grown out of these programs’ legacies. Still, what, I have wondered, if this clique does not maintain its influence even today from any legitimate source but, rather, only the insecurity of its audiences?

Maybe the way to help the women’s movement feel more resolved is to actually deal with the problem of domination within and by media corporations – not only in a performative way, but in a substantive one.

On Movements

Our government, as designed, is good at keeping progress slow, stable, intentional, and sustainable, which is a good thing. But media corporations have begun, in the last decade-an-a-half to seem to specialize in keeping progress to a minimum, encouraging frenetic, dizzying, and constant progress-less movement, and drawing attention too often to the meaningless in order to deflect debate away from solvable problems, including, arguably, the unconstitutional nature of a for-profit or for-power journalism business model.

For many years I have taught introductory architecture courses touching on the concept of moment in physics; and I thought a lot today about the idea of the #MeToo “moment” in this light as, even if at a seeming standstill, moment is intrinsic potential.

If the women’s moment in journalism could be considered potential rotational inertia around the axes that are our media infrastructure, what hindrance needs to be removed so that this potential can be transformed into actual torque?

I still wonder, if the journalism sector’s relationship to the stock market (which could potentially be considered analogous to a stationary bicycle stand) could be removed, and if more individuals spoke up about the need to better center concepts of human rights – not only in performative ways, but in practice, could the whole machine start actually moving forward?

While I do not know for sure what the answer is, I still wonder, what if it is a sort of combination of more listening at the local level, at least, and less stock market influence at the national level?

What if there is opportunity yet in the women’s movement in journalism, and the #MeToo moment, to at least begin a dialogue about journalism organization business models? I believe there is still room, and perhaps even a need, to address this topic, the urgency I feel in my heart being so strong. But even more objectively speaking, I know there remains potential, because not everyone has been bought.