Studio Blog

"In the South, perhaps more than any other region, we go back to our home in dreams and memories, hoping it remains what it was on a lazy, still summer's day."  --Willie Morris

They say every journey begins with a single step. For me, it began with an 1,800-mile drive to a bustling city where turn signals are a sign of weakness and a friendly “hello” to strangers gets you funny looks.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m no country bumpkin, but I certainly wouldn’t call myself a “city girl.”

I grew up in Baton Rouge, La., a town that revolves around work on Monday, church on Sunday and (most importantly) LSU football on Saturday.

I’ve always loved my hometown, with its ancient, hanging oak trees and fragrant, delicate magnolias. I love the people, who know that anyone deserves a smile and even a random grocery store cashier can become your temporary best friend.

But you see, I’ve always known I wouldn’t spend my life there, especially when I decided upon journalism as my career. The main news arteries in my town remain a game of “who knows who,” a remnant of old Southern aristocracy.

All the while, each of my professors continued to speak about “The Death of Journalism” in dark and hushed voices. All anyone seemed to know was that media is rapidly changing, and online is the inevitable and unfortunate absolute.

“Good luck,” they’d lament. “Don’t say we didn’t warn you.”

But I didn’t want to be the new starving artist. I wanted to jump onboard the journalism train, hold on tight and ride out its aimless, racing journey to wherever it will end.

I decided that by the end of my college career, I would get a taste of each form of media. If I could jump into each arena and survey the playing field, maybe I would know which team would be my best bet. I interned at two online media companies (one of which was LIVESTRONG, the opening to my eventual position on the DS team), a national broadcast news network and completed two years as a managing editor at a local magazine in Baton Rouge.

Now, as I become part of the community here at Demand Studios, I feel as if I’m actually ahead of the drifting, stumbling train.

I still miss my old life every day. I miss the wider streets, the sense of belonging and the food... Oh, the food. All my fellow Southerners out there don’t need to question why I brought two bottles of cayenne pepper in my spice rack arsenal.

But in addition to learning how it feels to be just one in a crowd of thousands, I’m learning how it feels to be a part of something unique and exciting. We’re standing for something completely new. For the first time, readers decide what journalists write. It seems so simple when you put it that way, doesn’t it?

So, rather than focus on my longing to be back home with family, friends and a little Cajun gumbo, I’m hanging on tight to this exciting new form of media.

As we say in Louisiana, laissez les bons temps rouler!