It’s Time to Give a FECK: Elevating Humanity through Forgiveness, Empathy, Compassion and Kindness (book by Chaz Ebert, with Foreword by Tamron Hall) | Chaz’s Journal

When I published my book recently I reached out to my friend, Tamron Hall, the award winning Talk Show host of “The Tamron Hall Show.” She in her generosity agreed to write the Foreword. I was surprised that she had encountered certain obstacles when she first came to Chicago as a reporter and broadcaster. Tamron is smart, beautiful, out-going and a hard worker. I had no idea that she had not been accepted as such in the beginning. Her story let me know that even when it seems like a person has everything going for them, a compassionate word or act of kindness can make all the difference. Here, in her own words, is her story. –Chaz Ebert

FOREWORD: by TAMRON HALL

LONG BEFORE the days of my becoming the first Black woman to host the TODAY show or premiering the Tamron Hall Show, I landed on Chicago’s door-step. It was August 31, 1997, and I had just accepted a role as reporter with the Fox News station WFLD, directly on the Magnificent Mile, in the heart of city. I was twenty-seven years old and swimming in fear.

Outside of the brief in-and-out interview to secure the role, I had never been to the city and didn’t have a single personal acquaintance there. Since college, I had been happily working as a reporter in my hometown of Dallas–Fort Worth—a place where I
was assured to always be surrounded by the love of friends and family. My parents had seen me off at the Dallas airport that morning. Everything about arriving in Chicago frightened me, as I stood there carrying my single suitcase and the cage that held my
cherished cockatiel bird.

On the ride from the airport, my taxi driver asked me why I was in Chicago. I told him I had moved there to be a reporter. “Good luck! It’s a tough town,” he said begrudgingly. He then added that I should expect to gain a lot of weight and drink a lot. There I was, the wheels of the taxi moving me forward on my journey yet feeling frozen by the utter
fright that things would not work out. Then news of Princess Diana’s death rushed across the airwaves and was enough to push me straight over the edge. I felt total regret for having made the decision to move to Chicago.

In an attempt to glue my two feet firmly in place, I remembered what a dear friend and fellow member of the National Association of Black Journalists had told me when he said I should take the job there. “Chicago is going to make you a new star,” he had so confidently expressed. It was a “news town” and a place that supported Black women and journalists.
Oprah Winfrey called the city home as did Allison Payne, Diann Burns, and Robin Robinson—iconic Black female newspeople who were known around the country—were all making their mark there. Why not me?

The fear of failing in the Windy City had not left me, yet I tried to keep the faith as I dove into my first few weeks of my new role. At lunch, I would sometimes wander around the Magnificent Mile and frequent the food court at the Water Tower building on Michigan Avenue—a place that took on a whole new meaning to me one Tuesday. While grabbing a
quick bite, I could feel the stare of a Black woman behind the counter checking me out. She then propped up and said, “You’re the new Black girl on Fox 32.”

“I am,” I said.

“Oh, we’re watching!” she enthusiastically replied with a kindness and ownership that left me feeling as though a loved one had reached out to embrace me in the biggest way possible. Like the radiant North Star, this human being had gifted me the most beautiful act of kindness and hope. It gave me the confidence I needed to stay in Chicago.

Within a matter of months, I had started to build a reputation in town. When a controversial decision by the WFLD news director led to the firing of the anchor for Fox News in the Morning I was offered the role. The move from reporter to anchor should have been a cherished time in my career, but it felt tainted by the fact that someone had to be cut to make room for me to advance. Yet another joyous moment was crushed, just like the taxi driver’s stark warning about Chicago being a tough town the day I had set foot in the city. If that wasn’t enough to weigh heavily on my heart, a local reporter then referred to
me as a Halle Berry look-alike. Any acts of kindness I had experienced since landing in Chicago felt immediately erased by that one powerful moment of rejection and for not being seen for who I was. Maybe it was time for me to go back home to Texas.

It was then that an unexpected invitation arrived to join Chaz and Roger Ebert for a Fourth of July gathering at their summer house just outside New Buffalo, Michigan. Over my entire career, I had watched Roger Ebert and WGN, and Siskel & Ebert had become a hallmark of what Chicago meant to me. I was convinced that Chaz and Roger must
had made a mistake and mixed my name up with someone else’s. I had only met them once, walking into a movie screening at Lake Street Screening Room off Michigan Avenue. There was no way they knew who I was.

Regardless, like a sleuth following up on a good lead, I decided to brave the unknown and
make the hour-long drive to the wooded beauty of Harbert where I arrived at their brick Tudor home, seated squarely on the bluffs of Lake Michigan. There were parked cars for miles, an outdoor band stand with hopping Motown music enlivening those on the dance floor, and a crowd easily topping three hundred guests. Like the day I had set foot outside O’Hare Airport to mark Chicago as my new home, I felt completely overwhelmed. First stop: the wash room to collect my thoughts. What I didn’t expect was what I would find within its walls.

On the washroom counter sat two figurines: one of a Black woman and one of a white man.
“I’m their child! If they had a baby, it could be me!” I thought to myself about Chaz and Roger. Those two little porcelain creations gave me enough of the feeling of support I needed to go out and confidently be with everyone. It is difficult to fully explain that
sudden wave of assurance, though as I walked out and witnessed Chaz being the most gracious host, it all made sense. There she was, walking around, making everyone feel seen and cared for. From her, I felt an overwhelming sense of welcome and kindness. What amazed me most was that from a city known to be a hard-news town, Chaz and Roger had brought together people from the Chicago Sun-Times, the Tribune, ABC, CBS, NBC, WGN, and Fox, along with countless local writers, filmmakers, and friends. And everyone seemed to be having a grand time.

Doing my best to inconspicuously blend in, I said hello to familiar faces as Chaz made sure I was introduced to those I didn’t know. Then I saw him—the writer who had called me a Halle Berry look-alike. My heart sank yet again. Had I not felt frozen in the moment, I might just have run. Then Roger spoke directly to him. “No one wants to be compared to anyone else. That’s not fair,” he said. It was a single act of loving support so powerful that left me feeling as though my newfound “parents” were rooting for me. I felt tougher and very much at home as that defining moment made me recognize that the good things that were happening to me were meant for me to pass along good things to other people. It became a critical turning point in my decision to stay in Chicago. Up until then, the high moment of my career success of becoming an anchor had felt hollow, yet in a miraculous instant, that hole was filled with true unconditional compassion and love. Because of Chaz and Roger, I felt reinvigorated and more purposeful about moving forward spreading
what was given to me—and I went on to brush off naysayers and not allow negativity to outshine the joy that people give us.

Years after being invited to their cookout and further forging our bond, I ran into Chaz and Roger at a newsstand at O’Hare International Airport—the place where it had all begun for me. Life had changed for them in many ways, and Roger was in a wheelchair. Despite his struggle to articulate himself and few words being said, not a bit of the kind compassion they had always offered me had faded. Once again, they embraced me so warmly that made it abundantly clear that my “parents” were still rooting for me.

This story is not my journey alone. It is so important that we all embrace and expand the
conversation about the magical moments where others make the choice to extend the shining lights of forgiveness, empathy, compassion, and kindness—the FECK Principles. The tradition of joy, love, and support will never go out of style, but we all have to be active participants. That’s what Chaz is welcoming us to do in It’s Time to Give a FECK.

Because of Chaz, I have experienced first-hand why any of us should dive in and embrace the perspective on how good our world can be. From the day we met, she has reminded me of the strong women who had raised me—my mother, her friends, my aunts. Their outpouring of care and kindness has always left me feeling so at home and I can only hope
that each of us has the opportunity to encounter people like Chaz or that angelic woman from my early-Chicago days at the food court—those who have undeniably made these principles a daily practice and who are constantly reminding us that none of us has to go it alone.

You can grab your copy on Amazon today HERE!