10/05/2026
I thought I was walking into a contract negotiation.
Eight years at the station. Almost twenty in television news. A Top 35 market and a career I had built on purpose. High “Q” scores and lots of ideas on how to bring meaning to the evolving TV news experience in my pocket.
Instead I found out my contract would not be renewed.
An HR lead who was as confused as I was walked me out through Master Control. That’s the room where every signal leaves the building, where a station decides what the audience sees. But the signal to me that day: we don’t want anyone to see you in this moment.
I had walked through Master Control a thousand times. That day I was trying not to cry as I walked out of it.
The job ending was hard. What took longer was everything attached to it.
There was a non-compete that turned out to not be legally valid 90 days later. My husband still worked there. We had two small kids and no interest in leaving the city we had chosen to call home.
For years, when someone asked what I did, I had the answer ready before they finished asking. “I’m a journalist, a producer, an anchor, a reporter.”
And then I did not.
I have been asking a version of that question ever since. Not only of myself. Of executives. Of people who just got promoted. Of people who have built something real and still get quiet when a stranger asks what they do.
Most of us borrow our answer from a title on a business card. That works right up until the card changes.
I’ve been working on something recently to help others- and from that project, I’m revisiting this question: if your title disappeared tomorrow, could you explain what you do without it?
Would love to hear it in the space below ⬇️