Bittersweet is the word that comes to mind as I try to sum up how I am feeling today, as I file my final story as a journalist (at least for now).
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
After seven and a half years as a journalist, I have decided that it's time for me to take on a new challenge in communications and will be entering the world of politics, working for Federal Member for Parkes Mark Coulton.
While I'm excited for this new opportunity and the chance to learn and grow professionally, it is with a heavy heart that I farewell journalism and a career I'd wanted since high school.
It is funny where life takes you; as a 15-year-old, never in a million years would I have imagined I would end up in Moree. I don't think I even knew where Moree was as a 15-year-old from Gulgong.
But after graduating from university, I accepted a position as a journalist at the Forbes Advocate in September 2013. I was only going to stay for a maximum of two years before moving on to bigger and better things, but I fell in love with the town and telling the community's stories. I also eventually fell in love with a boy from Wee Waa, who I followed up to this part of the state in 2016.
When I first started at the Moree Champion in July 2016, I didn't expect I'd last a year here. But one year turned into four and a half and Moree is now home.
Over the past four and a half years, so much has happened in Moree.
Crime rates have dropped significantly, the burnt-out housing issue is finally being addressed and funding has been committed for a brand new hospital. We've experienced two record harvests, one of the worst droughts in history and have broken a number of weather records.
I have loved being there to tell all of those big stories, as well as all of the little ones in between.
But the best is yet to come for Moree, as construction begins on the Inland Rail this year and exciting things are in the works as part of the Special Activation Precinct.
The district has come out the other side of one of the worst droughts in history and as we look outside and see all shades of beautiful green following one of our wettest years in a decade, we can look to the future with optimism.
Moree is home to some of the brightest and most innovative minds in the agricultural industry and I have no doubt that great things can be achieved with the combination of rain, technological advancements and the opportunities the Inland Rail is set to bring.
It is sad to think that I won't get to cover these exciting stories in the future, however I am comforted in the knowledge that I will still be somewhat involved in Moree's future in my new role, and as a ratepayer.
But while I am leaving journalism, I will never forget the stories - and people - I've encountered along the way.
But while I am leaving journalism, I will never forget the stories - and people - I've encountered along the way.
So many people have trusted me with the stories that matter to them the most, and for that, I will be forever grateful.
It has been an honour and a privilege to have been able to tell your stories of achievement, hardship and loss, and I hope that somewhere along the way I have made a small difference, whether it be getting an issue heard and acted on by the right people, keeping someone's legacy alive, or simply giving someone the recognition they deserve.
While the journalism industry can sometimes cop a lot of flack, that is in essence what it is all about - telling stories that matter and providing the public with information that is truthful and accurate.
Unfortunately, the journalism industry, particularly regional journalism, has been suffering ever since the rise of the digital age, where everyone has access to a camera and a platform to publicly share their voice.
The newspaper industry has been forced to adapt and change as a result, and even in my relatively short seven and a half years in the industry, I have seen so many changes.
When I first started at Forbes, we had a newsroom of five journalists.
Now, in Moree, a similar-sized town and paper, it's down to just me.
In the past year alone, I have farewelled three colleagues and close friends.
And, as each person leaves and is not replaced, it puts more pressure on those of us left to continue providing a quality paper and voice for the community.
The past year was the most challenging, with COVID-19 forcing the shutdown of newspapers across our company, as well as the permanent closure of a number of regional publications.
Thousands of people were stood down, and many of my colleagues remain on part-time hours, trying to do what they can to keep our communities informed.
However, COVID-19 was just the icing on top of a cake that has been crumbling for a long time.
However, COVID-19 was just the icing on top of a cake that has been crumbling for a long time.
And unless we all fight for the survival of regional journalism, one day in the not-too-distant future, there will be no such thing as a local paper.
But while regional media outlets are suffering, I strongly believe there is, and always will be, a place for local news.
As I have found over the past seven and a half years, local communities want to know what's happening in their own town and community; they want to see photos of themselves, or their children or grandchildren, friends and neighbours in the paper; they want to know how their local sporting teams went on the weekend; they want to read about the achievements of local schoolchildren; they want to know how council is spending ratepayers' money, what local politicians are doing to improve our towns and what crime has been going on and whether someone was sentenced in court.
But most of all, people want to read stories of the people they know doing great things.
These stories, however, might be lost forever if we lose our local papers and local journalists.
Which is why it is now more important than ever that the community who values its local paper, supports it.
The decline of regional media is not just the result of digital platforms like Facebook and Twitter, government regulations and big media companies, but it is on the community as well.
Without the community's support, journalists cannot tell its stories.
If you want the Moree Champion to still be around in 10 years, or even the next year, it's up to you to support it.
The simplest thing you can do is buy the paper.
Take out an advertisement for your local business if you want to see more content. We are a business ourselves and rely on advertising dollars to make a profit. The more ads in a paper, the bigger it can be.
Tell us about your stories if you want us to cover something - we can't cover it if we don't know about it.
Contribute a story from your local community or sporting group. You could even contribute to a regular column to ensure your group's news is regularly published. With less staff, we just don't have the resources to cover every story ourselves.
Subscribe to our larger sister subscription sites online.
Follow our Facebook page and engage in content.
If you have a story idea, send it in to moreechampion@austcommunitymedia.com.au.
While I'm not sure what is happening with my replacement when I leave the Champion, I hope the Moree community gets another journalist who has as much passion for telling stories as I have had.
Thank you to all the people who have shared their stories with me, read my stories and to all the wonderful colleagues I've had the pleasure of working with over the years.
It has been an adventure and now I can't wait for my next one!