The other week, The Washington Post debuted a new craft column, authored by yours truly. This is a pretty proud moment for a newspaper-lover such as myself. Even more so because the Post is the newspaper of my childhood. When we were little, my sisters and I used to fight over the comics and the Mini Page on the way to church. Then later, when I started reading real articles, I used to look up words that I didn’t know in the dictionary. Even now, every homecoming at the barn includes a morning of sitting at the sunny kitchen table, reading the paper.
In the interest of full disclosure, my Dad has worked at the Post my whole life long. This is a big confession for me to make here. Because I’m worried that this disclosure somehow diminishes landing the column gig.
But the truth is, I got into journalism without ever breathing a word about my Dad’s job. I wanted to get hired entirely on my own. I never wanted to be that kid who felt or acted entitled.
So I started at small community papers, then bigger ones, then moved over to public radio. Along the way, I began merging my love of journalism and my love of craft. I was reminded of this recently when I looked through some old work files and dug out a pitch I wrote up more than ten years ago. Pitching, yep, a regular craft column.
So this is a sweet moment for me.
Of course, I’m not going to be snooping around the Watergate on my craft beat. But I suppose that’s the deal with genetics. You may be born with an inherited inclination, but then it blooms into something entirely new.
So I’m pretty proud of the byline. Just below my favorite newspaper masthead in all the world.