Work as a journalist long enough, or at least start as a journalist long enough ago, and “-30-” was a standard part of your newsroom language. It was typed at the bottom of every story I sent during my early reporting days. (I liked to add a small flourish, so often used curly dashes, like this: ~ 30 ~. Made the guys in the back shop crazy, but that was half the fun.)
Why “-30-?” If you query Dr. Google, you’ll get the usual google-mash, with answers that trip over each other in a rush of contradictory certitude. A 2007 article in the American Journalism Review tried to sort it all out. More mash, so I’ll stick with this summary from the story:
The use of the symbol was once so prevalent that it made its way into Webster’s New Collegiate Dictionary, which says 30 is “a sign of completion.”
I am nowhere near completion in journalism or, I hope, in life. But I will put a ~30~ at the end of the Storyboard newsletter a month from now, on September 27. I am stepping away from the editor’s chair, a little more than six years and 325 Friday newsletters after the journalism gods smiled and granted me the gig. Like every turn in my career, it was unexpected and proved the best kind of challenge — one in which I continued to learn about both the craft and myself.
This isn’t an end-of-career retirement to “spend more time with family,” although unrushed family time would be nice. It’s just a shift to whatever challenge comes next — perhaps more teaching, a wider range of writing, some contributing posts to Storyboard or, gulp, that book proposal I’ve been avoiding. (Don’t hold me to that last one.) I want to learn to identify the birds who entertain me outside the cabin windows and to pick up my long-neglected paintbrushes. I want to take road trips and write about what I see, who I meet, what I wonder. I want to read, read, read — as much for pleasure and good citizenship as for work. Mountain Editor suggests I consider this an overdue “untirement.”
I also look forward to following a new voice to carry on the Storyboard mission of exploring the art and craft of story work. The folks at the Nieman Foundation will be posting the job soon, and I’ll make sure to pass it along here and on the Storyboard site. Keep your eye out for it, and raise your hand if it calls to you.
Fitting, it seems, that I was contemplating my last month at Storyboard as we in these dis-United States headed into the Labor Day weekend. I have never subscribed to the notion that if you love what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life. I have always loved what I do as a journalist and teacher, but it’s often been hard, stressful work. Upside? A never-ending education, and never boring. What would be the point otherwise?
