Juanita Phillips is leaving the ABC after two decades on the network.
READ HER FULL STATEMENT:
My kids only set fire to the house once and luckily I wasn’t at work that day.
As I ran toward the flames with a blanket and a pan of water, I thought, “If this doesn’t work, I’m going to have to get them out of the house, and where the hell is my daughter?”
She hid under her duvet, hoping the fire would go out on its own.
How time flies. That house was long since demolished for a McMansion. My little firebug is now 18 and studying for the HSC.
My son has flown out of the nest. My partner recently started a new job helping the Australian economy transition to clean energy.
And the ABC is undergoing the biggest transformation in its history, from traditional broadcasting to the great unknown, the ever-evolving digital future.
Change is in the air, so it seems like the right time to take the next big step in my own life.
After 21 years of presenting the 7 p.m. news, I’ve decided to leave the ABC and take a break.
It’s my choice and I’m excited to start the next phase of my life. My last bulletin will appear on September 10.
It has been an honor to serve the people of NSW in this role, and I am sorry to say goodbye to our 7pm viewers.
I’ve talked to thousands of them over the years and I know they love and appreciate the ABC (although they don’t hold back if they’re not happy about something).
Some tell me that hearing the majestic marching band is one of their earliest childhood memories and that the 7 p.m. newscast is part of that lifelong connection they have with the ABC.
It’s a privilege to have played a small role in such an important part of people’s daily lives, and I appreciate the warmth and support I’ve received from them over the years.
In public broadcasting I have been lucky enough to work with the best people in the business.
Broadcasting live television is a huge team effort and I couldn’t do my job without the skill and support of my colleagues: producers, editors, directors, studio crew, auto cue operators and makeup artists, to name a few.
It’s been an extraordinary time in history to be in the news world.
If I had to sum up the past 21 years in five words, they would be terrorism, Trump, COVID, climate and equality.
These are the chapter titles of the defining stories of our time.
I thank the front-line ABC journalists who risked their lives and sanity to tell them – especially the foreign correspondents who put themselves in danger, the investigative journalists who bravely hold the powerful to account and the general reporters who take to the field during natural disasters.
I get to do the easy part: showcase their hard work from the comfort of a studio.
Nevertheless, telling people bad, scary news five nights a week leaves its mark.
For starters, it’s made me a very anxious mom — I know everything that could go wrong, from freak accidents to existential threats to humanity.
People often ask if reading the news upsets me. Sometimes it does, especially those stories that reveal the worst of human nature, and the suffering it causes.
There are some stories I can’t see when they air, and my ability to tune them diminishes. It’s a part of the track that I walk away from with a sense of relief.
But there is so much I will miss. The camaraderie of the makeup room. The electricity of the newsroom when a big story comes out. The silence of the darkened studio before the lights come on. The countdown to showtime: “On air in 5, 4, 3…”.
Hearing the director’s calm voice in my earpiece and knowing it’s going to be okay because I’m in good hands.
I have no immediate plans, and that feels good. I’ve spent the past 42 years—all my adult life—working full-time in newsrooms, here and abroad.
For the past 20 years, I also managed a family home and raised children, mostly as a single parent. The prospect of freedom is exciting.
It’s been a long road and so much has changed. When I started as an 18-year-old cadet journalist in Brisbane in 1982, we used manual typewriters and took notes in shorthand.
Newspapers dominated the media landscape, flooded with money from the “golden rivers” of classified advertising.
Reporters smoked and drank in the newsroom, and there was plenty of what would today be considered verbal abuse and sexual harassment.
People generally had three sources of news: the morning newspaper, ABC radio, and their favorite evening TV bulletin.
When Rupert Murdoch, a middle-aged media figure, bought the newspaper I worked for, he introduced computers.
The new machines caused so much annoyance to journalists that we received “disability benefits” as compensation. That was the first major technical disruption I was part of, but certainly not the last.
Fast forward 40 years and the digital revolution has changed the industry almost beyond recognition.
People get their news from so many sources that traditional media is struggling to survive.
Artificial intelligence and misinformation pose an existential threat to journalism. The smoky, drab newsrooms of yesteryear have been replaced by a young, diverse, tech-savvy workforce.
I am thankful for all the opportunities I have been given along the way. From newspapers I went to television, which took me to Sydney and then to London.
During my second shift at the BBC, Princess Diana died in a car accident. A week later, I anchored some of her funeral coverage, which I broadcast to a global audience of hundreds of millions.
From there I went to CNN, the original 24-hour news channel.
On the last day of 1999, as the clock ticked towards the new millennium with the global threat of the Y2K bug, I helped anchor one of the greatest live news events of the 20th century – 24 hours of nonstop rolling coverage from every corner from Earth, using bulky suitcase-sized satellite phones.
Nowadays you could do the same with a smartphone and social media, but then it was considered a marvel of modern technology.
Broadcasting from CNN’s massive main studio in Atlanta, Georgia, I loved just being a part of it.
Journalism has given me life experiences beyond my wildest dreams. But my greatest achievement is simply this: I’m still here. I’m still on the air, presenting a prime time news bulletin as I approach my 60th birthday.
I’m proud to have survived this long. TV news is a tough thing for women once they have kids, and especially as they get older.
I’ve seen too many talented women thrown away during my decades in the industry, and I’m well aware of how lucky I am to have chosen the time of my departure.
(The latest Women in Media survey found that nearly a third of women are considering quitting their jobs, citing prejudice, discrimination and a gender pay gap that’s wider than the national average.
“The departure of women from the media is a loss that society cannot afford,” the organization said.)
As for what comes next, honestly, I have no idea. I do know this: I’m not going to train for a marathon or study for a PhD. And I pledge not to start a podcast.
My life goals are much more mundane these days. I look forward to being home in the evening for dinner. have Sunday off. Be able to attend my Thursday night book club without taking annual leave.
After a lifetime of working odd, unsociable hours, I’m ready for a bit of normalcy.
Being more available to friends and family is now my priority. I assumed life would slow down as my kids grew up. It turns out to be the opposite!
We gather people as we move through life, and by the time you get to my age, it’s quite a crowd. There is always something big going on – divorce, death, troubled teens, sick elderly, health crises. Every other day the news is on the home front.
There is also much to celebrate. My wonderful mother turns 97 this year and I want to spend as much time with her as possible.
And who knows after a while downtime? I’ve worked all my life and I feel like I can still contribute. So keep the camera running. As a wise friend recently said to me, “Sometimes women our age just need a year off.”
I will be sad to leave. But as I reach the end of this particular road, I feel deep gratitude for the opportunity to walk it.
News is usually bad. But this job has taught me that there is also beauty and goodness in the world: kind people, wonders of nature, feats of courage and sacrifice. I have also testified to that. How lucky I was.
More to come