photo by: Contributed

Bonnie Jean Feldkamp

Someone recently told me, “The minute I took this job, I became part of the problem.” I’d never thought of it that way before but instantly understood what they meant. They work within a government system, a completely different profession than me, but I couldn’t help but come back to that phrase again and again. It also applied to me and could apply to anyone else working within a corporate, government or industry structure.

I became a columnist to shine light in my community, in our country. I want to write the stories of everyday people who remind us of our humanity. My dogma is to tie personal experience to current events in a way that helps the reader empathize, relate and care. That is what I strive to do each time I sit down to write. But I do work within a system: corporate journalism.

As an industry we are a little lost, trying to find our way. The purpose of journalism is generally still the same, at least if you ask the reporters and columnists on the ground in your community. They got into this work for the shoe-leather journalism, a true public service with the aim of writing the first draft of history for their neighborhoods and cities.

However, to sustain that we also need subscribers, people invested in their communities who want to read and understand. That’s just not happening like it did before the internet. So what happens instead is, editors and journalists have conversations about what readers want instead of what the community needs. Whole departments are dedicated to what’s trending instead of having a dutiful reporter bearing witness to decisions being made at city council and school board meetings, or in the courtroom. We have news deserts in rural spaces with people getting information that hasn’t been vetted or fact-checked from social media and neighborhood groups, or they are only consuming biased national cable news.

This means when I pitch a local column that I feel is worth writing, I’m faced with the question, “But will it do well?” Which translates to, “How many people will click on it?” All I want to ask in response is, what does it matter if the masses read it? Isn’t it enough if the right person reads it and a policy changes? What happened to quantifying success with community impact instead of eyeballs?

That’s where I am. That’s where we all are in this world. Metrics may be good for business and selling ad space, but is it responsible? I’m entrenched in this problem, and it leaves me looking for my way out — or at least a way through.

Maya Angelou wrote, “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”

I’m 49 years old and I feel like that story inside me is me. What I choose to write and put creative energy into tells my story. What do I want my story to say?

I want to be part of the solution. The inspiration. The wisdom that helps our next generation thrive. Writing screeds that “do well” as rage-click bait for the masses means nothing to me. But if someone reads something I wrote and uses that to reflect and ask themselves what they can learn? That’s worth everything.

Social scientist Brene Brown says we don’t come to a midlife crisis but a midlife unraveling. Brown says that midlife is when the universe pulls you close and says: “I’m not screwing around. … Time is growing short. … You were made to live and love with your whole heart. It’s time to show up and be seen.”

I want to not only be seen but help others feel seen. These are the stories that matter, and they should inspire us in our shared humanity. We all have a story to share. A worthy life lesson of value and belonging. We’re in this together. It’s about time we act like it. What I choose to create with words has a lasting impact. I want to inspire and engage, not divide and enrage. I hope you’ll join me and choose to click on stories that serve our collective good.

— Bonnie Jean Feldkamp is a syndicated columnist with Creators.