What's Possible!

By Daryn Kagan
Meredith Books

Welcome to a world where just about anything is possible! If you have big dreams or huge obstacles to overcome, you’ve come to the right place. Or maybe you just love stories that make your heart go zing!

After more than 20 years in television news, I realized that’s exactly what I loved. It’s very important to be informed, and there’s a lot of serious news that needs to be reported. But there are also many people doing amazing things that are worth reporting. Those are my favorite stories, and there are not enough outlets for them to be told.

Is it possible that a journalist who spent her entire career reporting doom and gloom could come to a point where she realized that what she spent her days covering on traditional newscasts was completely at odds with her optimistic view of the world? Is it really possible that I walked away from a successful news career to dedicate my life to telling inspirational stories? It’s not only possible, it’s my own inspiring story, a story that begins with my getting fired.

Well, OK, not fired exactly, but rather shown the proverbial door.

The Exit

“I know that your contract is up at the end of the year and I wanted you to know that we won’t be renewing it.”

That was the big boss informing me that my 12-year CNN career was coming to an end. It was the best thing CNN ever did for me.

Let’s be clear: CNN did some great things for me over those 12 years. First they plucked me out of Phoenix television and helped me transform from a local news reporter to a national sports anchor.

Three years later they moved me to the news desk where I covered everything from war to the Oscars. I traveled across Africa with Bono and then-U.S. Treasury Secretary Paul O’Neill. During that almost nine-year span, my home base was the CNN news desk. As the late-morning news anchor, I had a front-row seat on the roller coaster of the world. It means that I was on the air as the second plane hit the World Trace Center on 9/11. It meant that I could be sitting there interviewing a senator, only to be told in my ear, “Wrap. We have Tom Cruise on the phone. Interview him about his Golden Globe nomination.” Or “The King of Spain is on the phone. Interview him for three minutes.” Then while interviewing the king, I could be told through my earpiece, “We think we have a school shooting in Colorado; you need to switch to the police department representative.” For a news junkie it was the kind of professional challenge I craved. Not the kind of job you give up willingly.

That’s why I needed the kick in the pants to leave. From the bottom of my heart, I can now say, “Thanks, Boss!”

The Hurt

Don’t get me wrong. When I received the news that I was on my out in January 2006, I didn’t go pirouetting out of the boss’s office singing, “Wahoo! I’m so happy I’m going to transform the world with inspirational news!” No, hardly. I definitely had to go through the process of what I call “Feeling the Feel.”

Trust me, turning 43 and not having a tie to anything in the world that I could see at that moment did not feel good. On top of that, CNN had asked me to stay to finish out the last year of my contract. “I have no intention of taking you off the air,” the boss added. Then he paused, “Well, I don’t think I do. I’ll let you know.” So every day I went to work, I delivered the news to millions around the world, handled the Israeli-Lebanese conflict, the Iraq war -- really heady stuff—and tossed to weather with a smile. All the while I never knew if that day was my last day. Yes, that part wasn’t so fun either.

It’s important to remember that as you read the inspiring stories in this book. Very few people skip the hurt, the sadness, the tears, or even the fear. The story begins when you work through those feeling and decided, “OK, what’s next?”

Reinvention

Come to think of it, just getting to CNN is a wild What’s Possible! Story. In the early 90’s I was working at a local TV station in Phoenix. The unspoken rule there was if you were blonde you were a news anchor. If you were brunette you were a reporter. Take a look at the cover of this book and you’ll instantly know what my job was. Simply put, I did a lot of reporting. That wasn’t entirely bad. The station covered everything, so in my 5 1/2 years there I learned how to tell stories. Murders, floods, trials, riots, plane crashes, political scandals – I reported from every corner of the beautiful state of Arizona. I went live from helicopters. I went live from the bottom of meteor craters. I dug my high heels into the melting pavement covering record high 122-degree heat.

It was a great experience, but like most local news reporters, I wanted to be one of the anchors. In local news markets the anchors are paid more money and get a billboard along the town’s interstate. At the time that’s what I thought was important.

So each time there would be a small anchor opening, I would go into the news director and ask for a shot.

“Oh, Daryn,” he would sigh, not believing we were doing this dance again. “I’ve explained to you so many times. In television there’s just this “it” factor. Some people have it; some people don’t. Clearly you don’t. If you work really hard, one day you’ll be a very good news reporter here in Phoenix. But why would you dream of being more than that?

His rejection brome my ambitious heart and yet made me more determined. “I know, I’ll show him,” I would tell myself. “I’ll just go become an even better reporter. Then he’ll love me and give me a chance.”

You can guess how this part of the story ends. I worked my butt off as a reporter. And, yes. I did improve. But, no, I never did get my chance to anchor the news in Phoenix.

I couldn’t see it at the time, but that rejection was serving me. It inspired me to question what I really wanted to be doing. That was the first time I asked myself, “What are the stories I like best?” The answer then was sports stories. I grew up with an older brother and a father who were both sports fans. Dad took us to all kind of events: USA football, UCLA track meets, Lakers games, and – at the risk of dating myself -- the Los Angeles Rams (when they were the Los Angeles Rams, playing NFL games in the Coliseum before they moved out to Orange County and ultimately to St. Louis.)

Back I went, marching into that news director’s office. “I want to do sports,” I told my news director.

“Women don’t do sports,” he informed me. “Men won’t watch women doing sports.”

No, this wasn’t the Stone Age, more like 1993. And I knew this news director was wrong. Well, maybe he was right that I didn’t have that special “it” factor to succeed as a news anchor, but all you had to do was flip the channels to see that women were coming on strong in the world of sports. Robin Roberts was climbing the ladder at ESPN, and Hannah Storm was anchoring for CNN Sports. I knew there was opportunity out there. All I needed was a shot, even if it took some extra work on my part.

The first step was learning how to be a sports anchor. I saw my chance when the station started a weekend morning newscast. Back I went into the news director’s office. “You know that new show? I want to be the sportscaster for that,” I declared.

“That show doesn’t’ have a sportscaster job,” the news director said. “I know,” I replied. “I made up the job and gave it to myself! No competition!”

Of course, this news director had no interest in my becoming a sportscaster, especially since I had worked so hard to improve my reporting that I was now his top reporter. Also, in the news business if you worked weekends, you get two days off during the middle of the week. This was not going to work for this news director. “No,” he tried to shut me down. “You’re my best reporter. I’m not giving you Monday and Tuesday off so you can learn how to do sports.”

“What if I do it on my own time?” I countered.

“You’re going to work seven days a week?” he asked, amazed.

“How about this,” I offered. “We’ll try it for a month. If you think I’m really bad at sports or falling down on my reporting duties, you can pull me off.”

It’s really hard for a boss to turn you down when you offer to do something for free. We had a deal. And I had inside information. Having worked for this man for more than three years, I at least knew how he worked. He was a family man. There was no way he was waking up weekend morning and watching this show. I could do the sports gig for as long as I needed to. I did it for a year and a half. Yes, for a year and a half I worked the weekend night shift covering the lead story for the 10 p.m. news. Weekends I woke up just after 4 a.m. to come in and do sports, learn how to cut highlights, the whole bit.

It’s a Haircut?!

It would be nice if I could tell you all it took was hard work and dedication to take me to the nest level. But it wouldn’t be the whole story. I worked like crazy that last year while also sending out resume tapes trying to get another job. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. I was applying for both reporting and news jobs. I didn’t have a single nibble. And no one would tell me why.

Finally one of my best friends at the station, Cater Lee, offered me a lifeline. Cater was, and still is, blonde and – you guessed it – the main anchor at the station. She is also very talented, a hard worker, and a tremendous friend. “My agent, Jean Sage, is working with some women doing sports. You should send her a tape,” Cater offered.

This sounded like an excellent idea. Like most people working in TV news, I took was working with an agent, but he wasn’t giving me any constructive advice, let alone new job offers.

“But I have to tell you,” Cater warned. “Jean is very blunt.”

I gave Cater that “You have to be kidding me” look. As my good friend she knew that I was living through one of those life nadir moments. I was working seven days a week, couldn’t find a new job, and my current boyfriend had dumped me. There was nothing Jean Sage could say to me that was going to hurt my feelings.

So I sent her a tape. She, too, warned me that she tells it like it is. I just never expected her advice.

“You’re actually pretty good,” she assured me. “But you need to update your look.”

“Update my look?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Cut your hair, You’ll be shocked at how fast you get a job.”

Let me break into this story for a moment with some hair information.

Even though I wear my hair smooth and straight now, I actually have very curly hair. And at the time I was wearing it naturally curly down past my shoulders. I would instruct you to picture an ‘80’s big hairstyle, but I don’t want to hurt your brain.

I couldn’t believe this was the advice for which I had been so hungry.

“A haircut?” I asked somewhat incredulously. “Lady, I went to Stanford, and I’ve won Emmy awards, I’m working seven days a week, and you’re telling me it’s a haircut?”

“That’s it,” she assured me. “Cut your hair, but be ready to go because that next job will come quickly.”

I had nothing to lose and no other advice to follow. I hung up the phone, went directly to the local salon, and went from big 80’s curly to short pixie.

Two weeks later CNN hired me as a sports anchor – the two things the news director in Phoenix told me I would never do: sports and anchor.

I promise you you won’t find anyone else in this book who had to overcome the obstacle of not being blonde.

Dreams Come True

Talk about dreams coming true. If you’re going to do sports, the network level is the place to do it.

CNN sent me to cover everything from college football to the NFL, NBA, and international figure skating. Someone had to stand next to Troy Aikman while he was wearing nothing more than a towel and interview him in the Dallas Cowboys locker room. Someone had to follow Michelle Kwan to interview her as she stepped off the ice in Russia. That person was me. It was a wonderful three-year-run.

Just as that contract was ending, CNN hired a new president, Rick Kaplan. He called me into his office. “This sports thing is good, but have you thought about doing news?” he asked.

“Sure,” I explained. “Every day that I went to work for 8 ½ years. I just make this sports thing up.” “Well,” he mused. “I’m thinking about making you one of my news anchors, but I only like anchors who have reporting experience. Do you?”

“You bet!” I beamed. That’s all I was ever allowed to do for 5 1/2 years in Phoenix. I was never allowed anywhere near an anchor desk.”

That was the first time I could see that sometimes a struggle or a particular dream not coming true was actually preparing me for an even bigger dream. All those times I cried for not having a shot at anchoring in Phoenix, I could never have imagined that I would become a news anchor or CNN! At the time that possibility was beyond my wildest imagination.

Excerpt from What's Possible! Used with permission. Copyright 2008.