In the newsroom, a local reporter

For many people, the term “reporter” elicits feelings of tension or, at the very least, skepticism.

Even though I was technically hired as a “versatile journalist” for the Frontiersman, I knew if and when I turned to anyone with a question and a notepad, recorder or camera, a little red flag would go up: reporter alert!

Still, the position caught my eye, in May of 2014. I was about to graduate from college in Minnesota with a double-major Bachelor of Arts degree in English and Japanese Studies, and I needed a job. I’d spent enough time away from home, and though I still dream of padding my world-travel resume, Alaska will always have my heart.

Perhaps that’s why it seems like I already know everyone.

Daily, or at the very least weekly, Managing Editor Heather Resz assigns me a story that holds some connection to a person who knows me or a member of my small, Alaskan family. If not Heather, and if not my story, it’s another staff member I hear talking to or about someone I know.

I’ll give you a few examples. I attended a winter solstice party this past December, hosted by the family of a former Colony High School skier, coached by my mom several years ago. Another skier parent was in attendance, and when she saw me, she told me she liked the article I wrote about former Palmer High School basketball player Taylor Blake, whom I have never met in person. I asked her how she knew her, and she said she works with Taylor’s mother.

Small world, eh?

Example number two: last week. I called an elementary school teacher to talk to her about being named a BP Teacher of Excellence last year. I had never met her. Near the end of the conversation, she asked me if I went to school in the Valley. I said yes — I graduated from Colony High in 2010. She said I might know her daughter. Who? Kaitlin Miller, a girl who graduated in my class (and has the same first and middle name as me). I still have photos from an outing to Dairy Queen with her and some other thespians who were working on Les Miserables.

But that wasn’t all. Mrs. Miller then told me who nominated her for the award — a woman whose husband was very good friends with my dad. (I imagine they still are, but across the “realms,” shall we say — my dad’s friend passed away last year.)

They say these are symptoms of “local hire.” It has occurred to me only recently that many journalists work in cities they never knew growing up, giving them the challenge of getting to know the “ins and outs” of a place in short order. Obviously, the longer anyone works in one place, the better they get to know it, but another phenomenon develops simultaneously: the increase of others’ knowledge of you.

Even having grown up in Wasilla, there are still things I don’t know about Alaska, places in this state I have yet to visit. I’ve never been to the start or restart of the Iditarod or the Iron Dog, for example. I’ve never been to Sutton’s library. I’ve never been to Chena Hot Springs (yet). I haven’t done most of the things I always considered “touristy.”

Sometimes it’s nerve-wracking to be a young, Alaska-grown member of the local media. I know my Alaska, but I don’t always know your Alaska, because a) I might be half your age, and b) everyone’s passions are different. Given either A or B — or both — our priorities are probably different, too, which certainly affects our, shall we say, “areas of expertise.”

But sometimes not knowing someone else’s Alaska makes learning about it that much more exciting when I meet them.

I have been filled with wonder by the experiences I have had in this job. During the first six months I’ve worked for the Frontiersman, I have interviewed: skiers, runners, dancers, rowers, wrestlers, swimmers, divers, roller derby players, basketball players, mushers, students, teachers, coaches, authors, business owners, musicians, motivational speakers, police officers, state and borough employees, retail employees, veterans, non-profit organizers, cabbage growers, brewers, rock climbers and too many cancer patients. Just to name a few.

It’s no accident I categorize my stories by the people I’ve met. While this may not be the most efficient, specific or helpful mode of organization, this system seems appropriate to me, given that people are the reasons I remember or care about what I write. I don’t think that makes me too subjective. In fact, if I think too much about the story and not the people involved, I feel like I’ve failed as a reporter/journalist.

As the years pass, I think, my responsibility to know what’s going on in the Mat-Su Valley will increase. Certain things will come and go (including my memory), of course, but I hope my readers will have the courage — and grace — to remind me what remains important. This is your home, and this is my home, and I hope my reporting will do it justice.

May each of us at the Frontiersman live up to the title of “versatile journalist” and not become “just another reporter.”

Matanuska Grown journalist Caitlin Skvorc is a 2010 graduate of Colony High School.