Scout's Compass: The Call

This quote is from my favorite autonomous robotic hero, Optimus Prime.

Every day, we make choices that can change everything—or nothing. Some feel insignificant; others feel different. Sometimes we notice in the moment, sometimes later.

Last month, I got a taste of that.

I had just pitched my first local story on the No Kings protests in Pittsboro and Sanford. I wasn’t sure it would be picked up, but I had to try. I needed local bylines to establish myself as a journalist when I pitched my environmental story to a larger publication as part of my Wake Forest University reporting fellowship.

With that motivation in mind, I decided to attend a city council meeting. I had no idea what to expect. I didn’t know where it was, any of the officials, and I only just figured out how to download the agenda.

But I went, with a mix of “F*ck it” and “oh god, here we go” energy.

It was interesting to see the back-and-forth between council members and the dull proceduralism that often accompanies it. The highlight, however, was the person who shared their personal experience with flooding during the public comment section. More on that later.

At the end of the council meeting, walking outside the beige and brown council chambers, the woman behind me dropped all her loose papers. Yup, I’ve been there.

I didn’t hesitate to help, but as a result, I was one of the last people to leave the hallway towards the exit. I slowed my steps, studying some of the historical pictures and documents that lined the hall, when I came upon an older white woman and a young Black man discussing the history of the pieces and the building itself. I was interested, but I didn’t want to be rude, so I respectfully passed by them with a polite nod.

That is, until I heard her say that she was an editor and had just launched her digital outlet, Sandhills News, just ten days prior.

Y’all. The quickness with which I turned around 🌪

In seconds, I introduced myself to Stephanie M. Sellers, a former reporter with the Sandhills Sentinel, and the young man, Chris Petty, who would later run for City Council. Having that conversation in front of the independent communications art felt like a curious bit of fate (something I only realized while writing this out).

But what I didn’t know then was that just three weeks later….I’d lose not one but both of my jobs.

After more than a decade of steady work, sudden unemployment hit me like a punch to the face. Optimus’ quote reeled through my head as I tried to find reason in the chaos.

But that’s the thing about fate: sometimes it deletes all the messages in your phone, and it feels like you’ve lost everything. And yet, it also clears space for something new to find you.

That hallway conversation → the one I could’ve missed if I hadn’t picked up those papers or walked past out of politeness ← made way for what’s next for me.

Because let’s fast-forward another four weeks: I have nearly a dozen bylines, and I’m working on three more with Sandhills News. I have a freelance contributor role in the works, and I’m hearing back from residents in Petty’s ward for my next story.

You’ll see the wins, the missteps, the moments that make me laugh, and the moments that make me wonder if I’m even doing this right.

It’s about the fateful choices, the persistence, and the paths we carve along the way.

Here’s to issue one—and heeding the call.