Thank You, Brooke Baldwin
In June of 2017, at six months pregnant, I got laid off.
My biggest concern was not my finances- my husband’s salary would be enough for us to live on. I wasn’t concerned with health insurance- we lost our (superior) coverage through my job, but we simply shifted to his. Even the sudden realization that I would be a stay-at-home mom by default was something of a relief- I had been on the fence, and now the decision was made for me.
No, my biggest fear was that while the world was still turning, I would be standing still. For the near-decade since graduating college, I had been swept along by the current of working life, my days set to the rhythm of the alarm clock, the commuter traffic, the calendar reminders. I had carried a few talismans from one job to the next- the mousepad with the built-in wrist support, the decorative desk penguin I’d nicknamed Linus- all of which were suddenly rendered meaningless. The rest of the world still took on days marked by drive times, meetings, coffee breaks, and conference calls. I faced only a long, unbroken stretch of time, feeling like I was staring into a sun that blinded me to any discernible end.
I needed a tether to the outside world. I needed a window into the life that had left me behind, if only so I wouldn’t forget how to live it.
I needed CNN.
On my first full day of unemployment, after busying myself with laundry and the Department of Labor website, I turned on the venerable news channel in a desperate plea for connection. It was then that I met, for the first time, the anchor who would become my eyes and ears: Brooke Baldwin.
I had no idea who she was before that day. The commercials interspersed throughout her show- for Medicare supplement plans, walk-in bathtubs, and arthritis medications- told me all I needed to know about its target audience. And yet this blond news anchor, just a few years my senior, immediately felt like the co-worker in the next cubicle enthusiastically showing me the ropes on my first day.
Brooke Baldwin’s show quickly became the central force of my new normal. This being year one of the Trump administration, the show had no shortage of colorful guests, but their entertainment value was easily matched by the host herself. The show’s steady stream of headlines kept me plugged in to the goings-on of the world, but Brooke Baldwin- not to mention her expansive catalogue of facial expressions ranging from shock to disgust- reminded me that, job or no job, my humanity was still there.
It was a connection that lasted through my daughter’s infancy, as the show came to coincide neatly with afternoon nap, but it slowly faded as she approached toddlerhood. I was working part-time by then; my second baby would be born when my first was just nineteen months old. The relentless grind of daily life with two young children, particularly once the pandemic hit, made simple perseverance feel like victory on many days. If there was anything on my TV, it was more likely to be Disney-themed yoga than breaking news.
Brooke Baldwin’s show, and the life I led when it was so essential to me, became a distant memory. A year went by before her face popped back into my consciousness- this time, via an Instagram post announcing her impending departure from CNN. She admitted, although she’s currently working on a book, that she didn’t have another job lined up, and that she isn’t entirely sure what’s next for her.
As spring approaches, my youngest will be starting preschool soon. Much like that first day after my layoff, I will once again find myself with large swaths of time that I’m not entirely sure how to fill. I do know that, for better or for worse, I’m staring down the next chapter of my life- much like Brooke Baldwin. She no longer serves as my connection to the world at large, but rather my inspiration for how to be a part of it- even if I have no idea, today, what exactly that will look like.
Thank you, Brooke Baldwin, and good luck.