Sept. 14, 2011

Back in July 2006, I found myself on the edge of a new life. Four months earlier, I'd been laid off from a job after nine years. I was at loose ends, not particularly thrilled about continuing in a profession I didn't love any more, but not knowing what else I could do to support myself.

One Sunday morning, I drove to church and found myself in the middle of a political rally. On one side of State Street was a small group of anti-abortion protestors. On the opposite side of the street, in my church's parking lot, was a large group of pro-choice demonstrators. I found myself in familiar territory--political action. I felt a hot, vigorous surge of energy that I hadn't felt in years and never expected to feel in Mississippi. Having come to adulthood in the Washington, D.C., area, a political event was always nearby, and I had done my share of marching and rallying.

The following Monday, an acquaintance sent me a story he had written about the rally. He inspired me to write one myself.

The JFP and I were about to intersect.

I don't remember when I picked up my first Jackson Free Press. It was probably at lunch downtown in the old Miller's Grill on Capitol Street, a block off State. In 2002, when the JFP first started publishing, I worked on Amite Street. I'm sure I was looking for something to read while eating lunch. What I remember clearly was my reaction: "Wow!" I thought. "My peeps!"

The JFP instantly felt like an old friend. Smart writing, a progressive attitude, a bit of snark, stories about things to do in the Jackson area that didn't always involve churches, hospitals or the Junior League--all those elements combined into "home."

Five years later, I wanted to send the JFP my rally story. Terror. For about a day, sheer terror overcame me. I don't remember how many times I tweaked the story. I had never published anything with my name on it.

I must've had a hundred reasons not to send the story. I finally just clicked send--and immediately regretted it.

"It sucks. What makes me think I can write? Why did I hit send?" My mind roiled.

About 20 minutes later, I received a response from Donna Ladd: "Can we publish this?" I think it said. It was short--and fast. My heart was in my throat.

"Of course!" I replied, as if I never had any qualms. But as soon as I hit send again, my mind chatter resumed.

"What if my friends see the story? It's too liberal for Mississippi. I should never give my opinion in a public forum. Someone will find me. They'll blow my head off for being a commie pinko lib'rel."

It was bad. Within a half-hour, I was convinced I'd written my death warrant.

When I was still alive a week later, I took it as a good sign. "Maybe I can write," I thought. That one simple thought began an odyssey that finds me in 2011 as the JFP's managing editor. What a ride it has been!

Brian Johnson was the managing editor the fall of '06 when I began interning. I remember the first time he gave me a story to edit. A few sentences in, I asked him: "Just how extensively do you want me to edit this?" His reply was some form of "go for it," and I did. Within a few short months, I discovered that I wasn't too bad at this writing thing, decided that I was pretty good at this editing thing, and was convinced that I could make writing and editing into a new career.

Not bad for a 50-year-old outside-agitator liberal broad from D.C., right?

That spirit of discovery is one of the many things that I cherish about the JFP. Anyone who is willing to bring an open attitude, and is ready to learn and grow is welcome, regardless of age, sex, sexual orientation, race, skill level or any other demographic or limitation. Those who don't want to learn or grow self-select out of here pretty quickly.

That's not to say that the work isn't hard. I work as hard today as I've ever done. But on the other side of hard work comes the contentment of seeing a new JFP "birthed" every week, and the satisfaction of having people I've never met say, "Nice job!" It's humbling when someone says you influenced his or her thinking, a blessing to touch a life now and again.

The Jackson Free Press celebrates its ninth birthday this week. I think we see a world full of wonder, yet we bring a fierce sense of independence balanced with healthy skepticism. The work we do, telling truth to power, is a team effort. If you're part of the team, know that we can't do it without you (yes, you).

Led by our indefatigable Editor-in-Chief Donna Ladd, the JFP has come through some interesting times. Donna sets the bar high. And just when it's within reach, she raises it again. It's annoyingly predictable but never boring.

This past year, News Editor Lacey McLaughlin has come into her own, writing several big, important stories, and Assistant Editor Valerie Wells is more than fulfilling her promise to be a vital part of the team. Donna, Lacey, Valerie and I (along with a handful of freelancers) were blessed to bring home regional and national honors in 2010.

Publisher Todd Stauffer has done a remarkable job at keeping the JFP growing when the odds should be against us. Kimberly Griffin leads our determined and dedicated sales team (Ashley Jackson and Adam Perry) with aplomb, and in the art department, Kristin Breneman and Andrea Thomas deserve a heartfelt "thank you" for repeatedly doing the impossible with grace and good humor. In a triple role, Events Editor Latasha Willis is amazing, good at anything she set her mind to. We suspect our newest team members, Editorial Assistant LaShanda Phillips, Cub Reporter Elizabeth Waibel and Deputy Editor Briana Robinson will be as well. Bookkeeper Montroe Headd has been here longer than I have and does things I'll never be good at. We recently welcomed distribution manager Matt Heindl who is passionately improving our circulation routes. And here's a well-deserved shout out to Megan Stewart, Korey Harrion, Holly Harlan and Shannon Barbour and our small army of talented freelancers.

This year, Adam Lynch and Ward Schaefer, both outstanding reporters, left the JFP for other opportunities. We wish them all the best. They deserve it.

I'm proud to be part of the JFP and humbled by all the people I work with. Cheers. And here's to the next nine years.