Reflecting on the end of an era

Wolseley

“The FP Community Review will no longer be publishing,” the email stated. I read it over and over again.

Well, clearly there’s something wrong with me and I’m not understanding this correctly. This can’t be real. I eventually replied with an “omg what?” And then I called to make sure this wasn’t some weird scam. It wasn’t.

The FP Community Review will no longer be publishing.

After the initial shock, I was hit with a wave of intense sadness. Going back in time to over two decades ago when I’d started filing stories for The Herald, The Lance, The Metro, The Times, The Headliner, and The Sou’wester, and then — since 2022 — the FP Community Review.

The end of an era. A whole new world. But it certainly doesn’t feel like it’s a change for the better.

A friend and fellow writer sent me a message:

“Piece by piece, the paper is disappearing…. Each step along the way, the way news was delivered changed. But the changes today aren’t only technological, although that has created the conditions for the changes. It’s also psychological; what is news anymore, anyway? And can you trust it? Is that a real photo? It goes hand-in-hand with the growing distrust in institutions of all kinds, along with a deep suspicion about the motives of anyone in power. Add in youth, who have never seen anyone read a physical newspaper, and here we are.”

I told my friend that though his message was not comforting, it did help me make sense of what’s been happening.

I read news stories and reports stating that younger Canadians are saying that influencers and online memes count as news sources.

I feel really old. I mean, I’m a fan of several online influencers, people who have brought laughs, entertainment, insights, and learning that’s not to be found anywhere else. But news sources? I don’t think so.

I was born in 1963. The internet didn’t exist. Television offered two or three channels. If you wanted news, you read the newspaper. If you wanted to learn and know more, you read books.

Now people go to Tik Tok or Instagram, learn who’s trending and follow them. And that’s where their learning comes from, which — to be honest — kind of really scares me.

I’m both sad and angry.

Over the years, under a variety of titles, Canstar Community News published a wealth of community-based stories that made a difference in people’s lives. In my time, I covered everything from book launches to art openings, animal rescues, new businesses, local markets, entrepreneurs, helpers, givers, teachers, fundraisers and so much more.

I connected with incredible people doing amazing and inspiring things in the community. I don’t know where they will go for coverage without the community newspaper.

How will we find out about the neighbourhood family who runs the annual flower sales to raise money for Harvest Manitoba? Or which vendors will be at this year’s garden market? Or the best places to go for a staycation? Or what the local community centre is offering this season? Social influencers aren’t up on that stuff.

News about what the people are doing and creating is the heartbeat of our communities. I worry about what goes next.

I hope I’m not around the day the newspaper disappears entirely.

To end my final column on a positive note, I am deeply grateful to my long-time editor John Kendle, and more recently Sheldon Birnie, for giving me space to write and offer story ideas. And to you, dear readers, for allowing us to bring community stories into your lives.

They say if you can’t beat ‘em join ‘em. Maybe I’ll try to give Grandma Droniak a run for her money. Find her on Instagram. She’s a riot. And a millionaire.