My Year With Arbutus Patch

In August of last year, I was drawing blood in the outpatient department of the VA Medical Center in downtown Baltimore.

I had been working in journalism for many years, but recently the field had changed, particularly when the recession began in 2008. The economic downturn accelerated trends in media, mainly pushing publishers and readers from traditional print formats to less costly web publications.

I was finding fewer and fewer publications that allowed me to produce worthwhile work at a livable wage. Print publications reduced editorial staff and budgets. Newspapers eliminated whole sections and shrank their news holes. If the news business wasn’t quite dead, it was on life support and offered fewer opportunities for an old-school journalist such as myself.

The web was home to a growing number of “content mills” that are little more than electronic sweatshops, and a plethora of web sites for which one could write for free. No thanks.

I made a conscious decision to focus my writing only on projects that I wanted to do, rather than work my fingertips down to nubs trying to make a living writing meaningless garbage. In order to do this, I wanted a part-time job—something not related to writing that would provide some income and fill the gaps.

Recalling the previous life as an EMT/paramedic I had before journalism, I decided to go back to school and get certified as a phlebotomist. I breezed through the course and found that the tactile skill of drawing blood was like riding a bicycle. It was second nature again.

In August, I was fulfilling my clinical rotation—two weeks at the VA Medical Center during which I was required to perform at least 100 sticks. On my first day I did 37 blood draws. On my third day at the VA, they offered me a job.

I was tempted to take the job. I really enjoyed the hospital milieu. I enjoyed the contact—not just talking with people, but physically touching them. It allowed me to do things that I didn’t ordinarily get to do as a journalist; provide comfort and reassurance, to soothe somebody who is sick or in pain, to feel the warmth of human skin.

It was rewarding to know that my skill helped take the edge off a necessary unpleasantness. Every time I picked up a needle and syringe, I strove to do what had to be done as quickly and as painlessly as possible. I was gratified to be able to make a small difference to somebody’s day.

Meanwhile, I received a phone call from a recruiter looking to hire people for something new called Patch. I had a series of phone interviews while on break at the VA.

I was told that Patch was something new, a network of hyperlocal news sites that intended to reinvent journalism. I was intrigued, but honestly had doubts that there was enough happening in the Arbutus area to sustain a news publication.

Oh boy, was I wrong about that. The deeper I got into my territory, the more I learned what was really happening in my neighborhood—news stories that weren’t getting covered, community groups that were doing good things, interesting people with fascinating stories.

A year later, and here we are. I won’t waste space here listing the things Arbutus Patch has done in the last 12 months. Suffice to say, it’s a lot.

Am I complexly satisfied? Absolutely not. I feel like Arbutus Patch is beginning to hit its stride. There are more articles to write, more stories to tell, more issues to explore. I’m just getting started.

I am thankful for Patch for giving an old-school journalist like me a home, and the freedom to approach news the way my instincts and judgment say it should be done. Through Patch training in photography, videography, social networking and writing, I have become a better journalist.

In the past year I’ve learned more about my community than I ever imagined—its diversity, its rich history, and its active and engaged residents. I’ve gotten to know a bunch of terrific people, many of whom are now my friends.

As a reader, I’m thankful for Patch for reinvigorating local news. Patch is not only cutting a new swath, but is also shaking up the competition. Other publications have had to step up their game in response to Patch. The result can only be good for readers.

Through Patch I learned that I can touch many lives and make a difference to many people. In these virtual pages I can provide comfort as well as information.

And I can still needle people when it’s necessary.

Most of all I am thankful to Arbutus Patch readers—for their support, for their criticism and feedback, for their engagement, and for continually demanding that the bar be set higher and higher. All of this is for you, and without you I wouldn’t be here.