A Letter From The Editor
Dream Jobs and Success —
They’re Defined Differently
by Different People
S
4
uccess may
very well
be the most overused word in America today. What does it
actually mean?
Webster’s Dictionary defines success as “the accomplish-
ment of an aim or purpose.” Well, that’s rather bland.
Everyone seems to have their own, personal definition of
success.
My definition of success is knowing that what you’re
doing is helping you and others lead a better, happier,
healthier life. To me, success means creating a business
that empowers or inspires its staff, clients, employees, and
community.
I personally set out to create a product that would be
interesting and inspiring about Parker County that Parker
County could take pride in.
I also like the way success is defined by Co-Chair of
Disney Media Networks and President of the Disney-ABC
Television Group Anne Sweeney. She once said,
“Define success on your own terms, achieve it by your
own rules, and build a life you’re proud to live.”
Ms. Sweeney knows quite a lot about success.
Prior to her work at Disney/ABC she was chairman and
CEO of FX Networks Inc. from 1993 to 1996. During her
tenure, she presided over the launch of two basic cable
networks, FX, an entertainment network, and FXM: Movies
from Fox, Hollywood’s first studio-based movie network.
But that’s just her professional life. In her spare time, Ms.
Sweeney is active in organizations both inside and outside of
the cable industry. She is a board member of A&E Television
Group, Netflix, the Museum of Television & Radio, Special
Olympics and an honorary chair of Cable Positive. She’s
married to Philip Miller and they have two children,
Christopher and Rosemary. Christopher is on the autism
spectrum. She’s a Roman Catholic and attends St. Monica
Church in California.
At 62, she has a long enduring marriage, two great kids,
helps with a number of charitable causes and has a net
worth of $30 million.
When you Google her, you will find almost nothing
about her personal life. To me, that’s pretty impressive.
Early in my career, I had an idea about how great it
would be to be able to create a business that everyone
would enjoy. Staff-members would actually enjoy coming
to work, clients would look forward to being in the office,
the parents who worked there would be able to attend their
kids’ soccer games and school plays and whatever else their
budding geniuses were doing.
To me, having the ability to work in the same quaint
small town where you live and raise your family — to me
that’s a dream job.
Maya Angelou once said, “Success is liking yourself,
liking what you do, and liking how you do it.”
Before Parker County Today, I had a lot of great jobs. I
also had a few that weren’t so great and a couple that were
downright ghastly. I had one that started out to be fun. The
pay was pretty meager, but I had a great boss who made a
deal with me that allowed me to work at home most of the
time, so I could help look after my ailing mother, whom I
adored. She was having mini-strokes at the time, although I
didn’t know it then.
By the time the strokes were diagnosed, my great editor
had left and was replaced by an editor that was not at all
great. He wasn’t great to me, the community, or anyone else.
He gave me fits about working from home, even though I
had a contract that said I could do that. Our publisher would
not allow him to get rid of me, but that didn’t stop him from
working to make my life miserable as I struggled to take care
of my dying mother.
Eventually, I left that publication. I took another job
that paid much better, but it was in downtown Fort Worth.
Exciting work, challenging, with a great publication, but
I was sleeping hardly at all. I spent every spare moment I
could with my mom. My husband forgot what I looked like.
I recall writing a hard-hitting story, a fascinating expose
on a nationally known woman, up against a tough deadline
and having to stop and have tea with my mother and watch
a documentary on pot-bellied pigs with her. It was half an
hour long. I had exactly an hour and a half before my article
was due. I had two hours worth of writing to do. My new
editor was brilliant and very tough. He was one of the best
editors I ever worked with (he ended up working for the
New York Times, but that’s another story).
As I sat in my living room with my fragile mom, sipping
Earl Grey and nibbling on scones, my mom reached over
and grabbed my hand. She said, “Isn’t this fun?” Her smile
was radiant. “Yeah, Momma,” I said. “This is great fun.”
I called my editor and managed to weasel an extra hour
out of him. He was amazingly gracious about it.
I met my new deadline. No problem.
That was one of the most successful moments of my
career. I’ll never forget my mother’s smile.
I’ll also never forget my resolution that when I was in
charge, I would make sure that those who worked for me
would never have to worry about taking 30 minutes to have
tea with their gravely ill mother or father or grandfather or
child.
Recently, in the course of a meeting with a member of
our PCT team, I said, “Compared to some of the jobs I’ve
had, this is a dream job.”
She said, “This is your dream, Marsha. It’s not mine.”
Know what? She’s right. Yes, this is my dream job.
Thanks for Reading,
Marsha Brown
Parker County Today