This post was originally published in Huddle Today on Sept. 11, 2021
On a sunny May afternoon in 2015, I went to Second Cup in uptown Saint John to meet my new boss, Allan Gates.
After working as a casual at CBC New Brunswick for a year fresh out of university, I decided I was going to make a leap “to the dark side,” as journalists like to call it, and go work in communications. Twenty-fifteen wasn’t an easy time to be a CBC employee and there were layoffs across the country. As a casual, I didn’t have a job to lose, but I didn’t have any chances of getting one either.
So when a cool agency in the city called Bonfire had an opening for a content creator, I jumped at the chance. I loved their vibe and the kinds of clients they worked with. So when I met Allan (one of its partners) that afternoon to discuss some projects I’d be working on, I was excited.
As we sipped coffee in comfy armchairs, he talked about a few of the clients I’d be working with – a tech startup, a not-for-profit. I felt at ease and confident that I was making the right choice.
But as we wrapped up and were about to part ways on the sidewalk, he said he wanted to tell me about another project I’d be involved with – one they were keeping secret for now. This project, Allan said, was the real reason why they hired me.
“We’re planning on starting a business news website for New Brunswick,” he said.
I don’t remember what my response was, but I’m sure it was something along the lines of, “Oh, cool!”
I didn’t know what this would entail, or what it really meant.
I also didn’t comprehend that this would mean I wouldn’t be leaving journalism after all.
As the summer progressed, I did work with those few clients, but near the end, much of my time was focused on launching the publication you’re now reading.
It would tell stories of cool, innovative things happening in the province’s business space. Founders Allan Gates and Lise Hansen believed these kinds of stories were severely lacking in the region’s media landscape. Of course, New Brunswick has huge issues, no denying that. But those were already being covered extensively by other media outlets. They wanted to add different stories to that conversation.
Huddle officially launched in September 2015. I don’t remember much of the first day, but I do remember we were received with mixed reviews. Some were super excited about what we were doing, others thought we were somehow funded by the government. Some thought that if anyone dared to write anything good about New Brunswick, they’d have to be behind it, right? Jeez.
We were trolled on Twitter. We were questioned and mocked. I’ll be real, it hurt at first. When you’re a young person, especially in media, your identity can easily become tied to your work. Especially in the early days when it was mostly me writing the daily content, it was hard on the head. I felt a lot of weight on my shoulders….even though a lot of it was put on by me.
Meanwhile, Huddle also had to fight and prove itself. It had to earn its place as a niche publication in the region’s very limited media landscape. It wasn’t just the pressure to produce good work, there was pressure to make the business work too.
Well, it’s exactly six years later. Huddle has since expanded to Fredericton, Moncton and Halifax. It’s been acquired by Acadia Broadcasting and has also launched a podcast network.
Like it or not, Huddle is still here.
Since that September day, Huddle’s mission was to be a gathering place for creative businesses and entrepreneurs in the region. It’s become the go-to place to learn about all things business in New Brunswick (and now, Halifax). We cover the issues and topics that impact business and economic growth, and highlight entrepreneurs who took their destiny into their own hands by launching successful businesses throughout the region.
The tagline is “business is good.” But that doesn’t mean Huddle believes everything is peachy. It never did. But it does believe business, done honourably, can be a force for positive economic and social change. It also believes that instead of bitching about our problems, we should be focused on finding innovative solutions to them. It doesn’t take a lot of intellect to be a cynic.
I think Huddle has lived up to this mission and hope it will continue to do that as I move on to the next phase of my career.
That’s right, I’m out!
Throughout my six years at Huddle, I’ve found that my journey closely followed those of the startups and entrepreneurs I wrote about. I wasn’t just a “staff writer” or “associate editor.” As part of a media startup, I was involved in pretty much every aspect of the business in both official and unofficial capacities. I’ve had my hand in things like audience/brand development, analytics and performance, identifying revenue opportunities, sales, content direction, hiring, and more.
These are skills I probably wouldn’t have learned if I stuck with “traditional” journalism and ultimately led me to a new career opportunity.
Six years is a very long time to be with a company, especially in your 20s. The days of working for one company for 40 years are long gone. I also feel Huddle’s now at a place where I can walk away proud of what I’ve helped create. Regardless of what happens down the road, I know I can speak proudly of what it’s done to date. After years of focusing on Huddle’s growth, it was time for me to focus on my own again.
Where am I going? I’ll be joining an awesome Toronto-based digital marketing and PR agency Anamorphiq as a director. But don’t let “Toronto-based” put you off. This is a remote role, meaning, I’ll be staying in Saint John close to my friends, family and community.
It may seem like a big change… because it is. But I’m looking at it more as continuing the journey I started back in 2015 when I first joined Bonfire (My new boss has promised me that he isn’t planning to launch a digital business publication).
In fact, one of the things that attracted me to Anamorphiq (besides their stellar work and incredibly talented team, of course) was its similar culture and approach to work as Bonfire. For instance, they both have a strong disdain for timesheets! I knew it would be a good fit, and I’m thrilled they felt the same. I’m excited to use my skills to continue telling the stories of cool businesses and organizations, just in a different capacity.
With this new role, I’m joining a growing trend of people in Atlantic Canada taking on exciting new career opportunities remotely. It’s something Huddle has reported on and it’s only grown. The Covid-19 pandemic has proven to both employers and employees that work can be done from anywhere. Many companies are realizing they can access the talent they may not have been able to before by offering remote positions (where it works, of course).
It’s wild to think that just years ago I was told I would have to move to a bigger centre like Toronto to grow my career. Now, Toronto is coming to me.
Former Huddle writer Inda Intiar (love you, girl!) wrote a story last August where she interviewed Hilary Smith (also a long-time friend and mentor of mine), who after working at a corporate gig in Montreal for a few years, took a remote role in marketing for a SaaS company.
Hilary explained the benefits of working remotely and how it was instrumental in her and her husband Colin’s decision to move home to New Brunswick. She told Inda that often, the impact of marketing is still overlooked in traditional industries in New Brunswick.
“If I didn’t have a remote job, I probably wouldn’t live here. Because living here and working remotely still enables me to have the kind of job and career that I want, but also the kind of lifestyle that I want,” she said at the time.
“I want to live in a place like New Brunswick where I’m close to my family, I can own a home, I can really be close to nature,” she said. “But I really didn’t want to have to take a low salary, essentially. So having a remote job allows me to work for these global companies that have these growing customer bases and really value that kind of work.”
PODCAST: Are Digital Nomads The Future Of The Maritime Workforce?
I’d be lying if I said reading that didn’t get the wheels in my brain turning. This isn’t meant to throw any shade at Huddle at all. I was here for six years. I clearly loved my job.
But as a young person in the Maritimes, I’ve grown up being told that you should feel lucky to find a job in your field. If the career prospects here don’t satisfy you, deal with it, or move.
That’s not the case anymore, at least, for those in more creative fields anyway. For a lot of us, this changes the game. For Atlantic Canada as a whole, this changes things too.
On the one hand, a growing remote workforce is a great thing. The region, especially New Brunswick, needs young people to stay and pay taxes. If they do that by working for a company based somewhere else, who cares? In fact, the Saint John Region Chamber of Commerce even launched a program to entice remote workers from across the country to move here. It’s largely a win-win for everyone.
But there’s also the reality that a lot of these remote workers like Hilary wouldn’t actually live in New Brunswick if they were offered a New Brunswick salary. With all these other opportunities available to them remotely, why would they settle for that if they didn’t have to?
If this trend continues, what will this mean for New Brunswick companies when it comes to attracting talent? It’s something they’ll need to reckon with.
Safe to say, I’m looking forward to reading Huddle’s continued coverage of this in the future.
Though I’m excited about my new gig, I can’t overstate how formative and impactful my time at Huddle has been both personally and professionally. Besides the invaluable skills I’ve mentioned already, being at Huddle has changed the way I view living in New Brunswick.
I’m generally of the belief that nobody is harder on New Brunswick than New Brunswickers. That doesn’t help our cause on many fronts. But like so many, I grew up believing that success and prosperity, especially in creative fields, could only be achieved in places like Toronto, Montreal, and Edmonton.
Yet, through Huddle, I’ve talked to so many people who’ve found or created opportunities here. People who bucked that narrative and didn’t play into that all too familiar “culture of defeat.” If they failed, they weren’t afraid to own it and try again, in true entrepreneurial spirit. Don’t even get me started on the resilience and hustle this region’s entrepreneurs had during the pandemic. It’s nothing short of amazing.
Besides my colleagues, it’s talking to these people every day that I’m going to miss most about Huddle. Even when I was having a terrible day, talking to someone who was so passionate and excited about their business turned it all around. Many days I left work inspired. Their stories helped me realize my own potential and what I could do here too.
As I make the transition from associate editor to a loyal reader, I can only hope at least some of my stories over the years have helped others feel the same.