Listening is an act of love

While I was reporting on the wildfire in Bastrop last week, I came across Margery Marshall, a "spiritual and emotional grief counselor" from the United Methodist Church who was volunteering at the Bastrop Convention Center.  Marshall was providing victims of the fire with logistical resources -- here is where you get free clothing, this is the form you should fill out ect.  But she was also providing those victims a chance to be heard. In the midst of that chaos, where local residents had only a list of addresses to confirm whether or not their homes had been destroyed by the fire -- whether or not they were suddenly homeless -- Marshall said, "listening is helping." 

Later when I was talking to another victim of the fire, John Ricke, he broke down, tears falling onto my microphone.  "I'm not on video, am I?" he said.  "My buddies will really rib me for this."  Ricke was relieved when I said that I was only getting audio. But once again, listening was helping.  He admitted the the full affect of the tragedy was only hitting him as he talked to me -- as I stood there quietly listening, hardly interjecting with follow up questions. "It helps to talk about it," Ricke said.

Listening is an "act of love."  This is such a simple truth but one that we forget, I think.  And listening as an act of love is not only confined within the parameters of radio or journalism.  It applies everyday -- between mother and daughter, father and son.  With radio and multi-media journalism, we are able to tap into that special source of empathy and connection.  That is what I hope to do in my radio journalism.