Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Who's on top?

On my very first day at CBC Radio, my manager sat me down at a table with a piece of paper and a pen between us. P. drew a triangle on the paper; he drew a little circle on the top and a bunch of little circles on the bottom. He then drew some lines horizontally through the triangle.

"This is the CBC," he said. "The circle here is the president of the corporation. These circles down here are our listeners and viewers. In between are the vice-presidents, directors, managers and staff."

I nodded. It seemed like a pretty routine corporate structure to me.

"This is the way some people see it," he said, showing me the graph with the president on top.

Then he turned the paper so the viewers and listeners were up top, and the president at the bottom.

"This is how it really is," he said. "These people who listen to us, who watch us, they are the boss. They are the reason we are here. They are the reason we produce shows and run the news and try to make them laugh from time to time.

"We're here to serve them, to give them what they need, to tell them stories they need to hear. Never forget that, and you'll do all right."

Over my years at Mother Corp., I tried to remember P.'s advice. I tried to tell stories my real bosses needed to hear. Because of that, I was lucky to do some fun, intriguing and (I think) important work. I often covered stories people outside the North would think unimportant -- but hey, my bosses were Northerners, and at least half of them lived in small Aboriginal communities.


With all of the problems at the CBC lately (the enormous budget shortfall, the passive-aggressive statements from the federal minister responsible, the anxiety and panic amongst the staff as rumours of 600 to 1200 lay-offs float about), I keep remembering that Sunday morning in Yellowknife, and the look in P.'s eyes as he showed me that graph.


That's what is the root of the problems at the CBC, really. Sometime in the past ten years (or longer), the upper levels forgot they are actually the lower levels. They forgot about the real bosses. And oh boy, it showed

They chased after potential listeners/viewers, and ideal listeners/viewers, and hip ones and young ones and ones who dig it when you use swear words on the air. They worried about being contemporary and trendy. They Stromboed the news, rather than just The Hour.

And you know what happened? Some of the original bosses quit. Especially the television bosses, the elusive viewers. A lot of them quit. They went over to CTV and Global, where they weren't the boss, but at least they weren't being condescended to death.

Then the lower levels forgot the middle levels are the ones who keep the bosses around, who make radio and television worth listening to and watching. They tried to make us all expendable, contractors with no job security and no defense against being fired on a whim. At the same time, the amount of managers (who do not produce stuff for your eyes and ears) increased dramatically. They locked out the staff and pissed off a lot of the real bosses. Some of them never came back after the lock-out.

And now we are in a recession, and revenue is down, because why spend money on ads on a network that is losing its viewers hand over fist?

I don't know how to solve this crisis. But I do know if the CBC is going to continue to exist in some semblance of what was meant to be, the guys at the bottom need to wise up and remember the guys at the top.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

...with a carful of quintuplets who are all cutting teeth



... and I'd be smiling underneath.

Having an Ani week -- this woman still speaks to who I am, all these years and vast changes later.

To you, Hubby. You're worth it, too, always.

Wednesday, March 04, 2009

I would defend to the ends of the Earth her perfect right to be here



I've been commenting elsewhere and on Facebook about my feelings on the media collapse. I have to admit much of it is selfish, because it looks like I will never get to go back. Tonight, after a busy evening with the brood, I'm remembering why I left in the first place.

For N.: I've been mourning my career, and my youthful appearance, and all I gave up for you to be here, and for the family to be in a financial position to raise three kids.

I will always regret leaving journalism. But I will never, ever regret leaving it for you and your brothers.

For the boys: You may not hear me on the radio anymore, but you see me every night. And my feelings of wasted talent are nothing compared to how I used to feel about my wasted motherhood.

I love you all. You are worth it. Keep reminding me of that.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

My new hero

Good job, Selma Hayek. Women did this for each other for millenia before formula. I think this is why we let down milk even when someone else's baby cries.

(I have to admit, now I'm wondering if Angelina Jolie is pumping her milk to ship to Sierra Leone.)

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/02/10/salma-hayek-breastfeeds-a_n_165676.html

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Overheard in Buses #1: Teenage Bullies Attack

The bus is packed and at least 20 of us are standing in the aisle. A teenage couple is standing near the door, shooting dirty looks about. A man in his 50s, balding, fat and wearing glasses, is standing nearby.

Boy to Man: What are you looking at?

Man, taken aback: What? You mean me?

Girl: Yeah, you, what are are looking at? Are you looking at us?

Man, flabbergasted: What? I wasn't looking at you.

Girl: See this bus, it's full of windows for you to look out. So look out there, don't look at us.

Boy: Yeah, stop looking at us.

Man, looking nervous: Listen, I wasn't looking at you. I wasn't.

Boy and girl share the triumphant glance of successful bullies. I resolve to speak up at the next exchange, but the man turns his back on the kids and spends the rest of the bus ride trying his hardest not to look at them. I spend the rest of the ride wondering why a grown man allowed two children 40 years younger than he to bully him, and why I allowed it to happen.

Monday, January 26, 2009

True writer's block

I've hit another blogging drought. I have lots to write about, but a certain reticence to put it here. It's all so raw, and some of it is just not pretty, and lots of it is not happy.

I am generally a very happy person, and I am happy right now in my life, but my writing is always a little darker than who I am. I think I need a fresh start for this Year of the Ox.

I will soon start two new series of posts; one is called "Overheard in Buses," which is inspired by the amazing "Overheard in Cabs" by NWT blogger Mongoose over at Trucks and the City.

The second series will be called "Journalism Heroes," looking at some famous and obscure reporters I admire, and why.

So stick around -- there's more than pictures of adorable Navy brats and me in my PJs on this site, I promise.

Tuesday, January 06, 2009

Christmas in the infirmary... I mean our house













So A. and I were sick Christmas Day, and Hubby and Big I. were sick just before New Year's. And that's why I haven't posted Christmas pictures.

So here are a few for you to enjoy, at the end of the Christmas season.

More Christmas pics












Even more Christmas pictures







Saturday, January 03, 2009

Happy birthday, Super A.!


Super A. is seven years old. SEVEN.

I've been a mother for seven years. Wow.

Happy birthday, my awesome big dude!



Thursday, December 25, 2008

Happy Christmas!



Happy birthday, my little newborn Lord! (Thank you, Mother.)

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Little L.

Because of my work with the HER Foundation, I know a lot of women across North America I have never met in real life, and I "know" their babies and children.

One of those women, the brave and tenacious C., lost her two-month-old daughter today.

L. was diagnosed in utero with a serious heart condition. C., ill with hyperemesis gravidarum, continued to fight for her baby, planning for delivery in a children's hospital where doctors operated on L.'s tiny heart right away.

After multiple surgeries, L. was transferred to her home town children's hospital, then released and sent home with her overjoyed family. She was doing well, growing, blooming. She was beautiful.

She was readmitted a few days ago, and died suddenly today.

I have no words for how sorry I am, and for how utterly devastating this must be for C. and her family. How do we understand the death of an innocent child?

The thing I am struggling with the most tonight is this: My God, don't HGers give enough? After such horrific, sometimes life-threatening, isolating and frightening pregnancies, don't all of my HG sisters deserve to go home with a healthy baby? A live baby? A baby who learns to crawl and walk and dance and sing?

The author Anne Rice, after her reconversion to Catholicism from atheism, was once asked by an interviewer if her husband's death from cancer made her wonder why God took him. She shrugged and said, "I never look at it that way. I think God was just as sorry it happened as I was, and he cried along with me."

Her thought gives me some small comfort tonight. Until I think of my unmet friend and her enormous grief.

I know life isn't fair, I know that. But sometimes its cruelty is breathtaking.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Second Week of Advent



During Advent, I often think about Mary nine months pregnant. Those feelings of expectation and fear and just being ready to no longer be pregnant, added to the enormous responsibility of being the mother of the Son of the Most High.

At no more than 14 or 15 years old.

Little Mother, pray for us.

Monday, December 08, 2008

O Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us



People often misunderstand Catholic devotion to Mary. I am no theologian, but here's my attempt to explain why we hold her in reverence.

Notice I didn't use the word worship. Mary is simply a woman; however, we believe since she was given the singular gift of being the Mother of God, that God made her a little bit different from the rest of us. The Holy of Holies couldn't reside in a womb with a stain, not for His own sake, but for the protection of the one who carried Him. So God preserved Mary from that touch of darkness the rest of us have, what Christians call original sin, right from the moment of her conception. And that's what we celebrate today, on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception.

A very good priest once explained to me every baptized person has original sin removed from their souls from the moment of baptism (after that it's our own mistakes that muck us up.) So, in essence, all Christians are like Mary after baptism, which means Mary could have sinned if she so chose.

Catholics believe she did not. So it is not only her spotless nature we revere; it's her choices. Mary chose to refuse sin. Mary chose to accept her unexpected, virgin and potentially dangerous pregnancy. She chose to give us our Saviour. Her choices are why she is the mother of all Christians.

I have also had some profound religious experiences involving Mary, before I ever "got" her. She was an enormous source of help and comfort during my last two pregnancies. I wear a Miraculous Medal around my neck every day in honour of her help during my pregnancy with Toddler N. -- a medal, strangely enough, my Anglican mom picked out for my birthday that year, thinking I would like it because it had Mary on it and was beautiful, not knowing its full meaning and purpose.

Both of my mothers take very good care of me. I love you both.

Happy feast day, readers!

Tuesday, December 02, 2008

First week of Advent



O come, thou Dayspring.

Saint Edith Stein, pray for us.

Saint Maximillian Kolbe, pray for us.

Remember what the Lord's first Chosen People, the Jews, have suffered for their faith, and what all the Christian martyrs have suffered for theirs. Let's hold onto ours.

Blessed Advent, everyone.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

The Self-Portrat Challenge: Writer's Block

Amy over at ...on the present moment is running a self-portrait challenge. Now, I'm not usually one to do these sorts of contests, especially if the contest involves David Hasselhoff ; however, Amy's looked like a creative challenge, and also a way to avoid working on my book.

Here's my entry, a triptych I call "Writer's Block."





Friday, November 28, 2008

Work in progress: writing playlist

So Stephenie Meyer gave me a good idea. She uses playlists as inspiration while writing her books. And while I don't think Ms. Meyer is the best author I've read, she has sold five novels which I find quite enjoyable to read.

So, like any good author, I'm stealing her idea. (Actually, Stephenie shares writing tips sometimes, and this is one of them -- set your writing mood.)

Here is a very partial, only-just-begun playlist for the novel I'm trying to write. Does this give you any ideas about my mood for this book?


Saturday, November 22, 2008

"But I am the Chosen One..." (THWAP!)

Eight months until the next installment of Pottermania!

In one piece

The Hubby was in a (thankfully) minor motorcycle accident this week. A driver performed an illegal lane change and forced him to "ditch" his bike. It was either that or hit the car.

He has a few scratches and scrapes, and some sore muscles, but that's it. His bike, on the other hand, may be a write-off, a month after purchase.

Hubby, this is for you. Thanks for not dying.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Remembrance Day, toddler-style


We have lost 97 Canadians in Afghanistan. Hundreds have been wounded. My next-door neighbour just came back. Two of Super A.'s classmates have daddies there.
Remember the veterans and fallen of our own generation, and remember their families.
To all Canadian veterans of all conflicts: Thanks. I know this little girl above is one of the reasons you fought and are fighting now. Her mother appreciates it very, very much.