How to make an impact

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I’m on the bridge of a U.S. Navy cruiser, many miles off the coast of Southern California. It’s late morning, the sun is shining brightly off the bow, the wind is minimal, and the seas are eerily calm. There is a buzz of excitement around me as I’m surrounded by videographers, fellow public affairs professionals, and others assisting with navigating this warship and the movements of a nearby helicopter and Navy destroyer. The ship’s commanding and executive officers are adeptly directing the traffic.

I stand on the bridge wing and absorb the scene. To the left of me, I see a flurry of activity with young Sailors, most under the age of 25, helping navigate the ship along with us nerdy public affairs types waiting to film and generally getting in the way. We determine that filming into the sun won’t make a good shot, so we turn the ship 90 degrees to the right. The camera crew moves positions based on advice from the lead videographer. A colleague and I give direction on camera angles as a helicopter with another camera crew buzzes nearby for the aerial vantage point.

Once situated, the bridge goes deathly quiet, not uncommon during major ship evolutions as we want everyone’s attention focused on safe ship handling. We start to film a destroyer slowly approach from the port quarter, come alongside and overtake our vessel. The Junior Officer of the Deck uses the ship’s bridge-to-bridge radio to communicate maneuvering intentions with this simulated unknown contact. We film six runs of numerous configurations and with an air contact flying around us, then again directly overhead. We promptly review the footage, then do a couple of retakes after clearing the bridge leaving behind only the essential personnel to make the shot obstruction-free.

Our expert media team is positioned and ready.

I can’t believe this is happening. I got flown here earlier that morning via a helicopter from a Navy aircraft carrier. I’m with my boss, a one-star Admiral, and several communication experts to film a training video so Sailors can learn how to categorize and document unsafe and unprofessional at-sea interactions.  

For the record, I never dreamed we’d be doing this maneuvering exercise on film. This was not planned before going to sea for this exercise. I was still trying to learn how to run this project.

This training program, known as Operational Tasking Visual Information (OPTASK VI), was handed to me one month ago. It is primarily run by officers and chiefs in operations and intelligence. Still, there is a push to rightly drive it towards the Navy public affairs community, as it’s designed to submit the footage to news media if necessary.

I remember giving the Intelligence Officer on our staff, a Navy Captain who was turning the program over to me, so much grief on the tasking. I was scared of failing and honestly did not know if I could do it. He recalls the meeting a bit differently. He later tells me that he sensed I owned it from the beginning of our initial conversations on it but was understandably fearful of taking it on. At the time, only one other Navy PAO was grading this mission area. I am indebted to that intelligence officer for having the foresight to understand my good intentions and abilities. 

But in the aftermath of those first few days after getting the email from my boss stating I was now in charge, I felt unprepared and ill-equipped to take this on. So, I consulted a mentor of mine, a seasoned surface warfare officer and commanding officer of an east coast warship. I figured she’s literally navigated tougher waters than this one and could provide advice. Instead of voicing any concern for my aptitude in assuming this vital role, she congratulated me and said I would crush this. I was not so sure, but I was thankful for her support.

I then attended a town hall with the top Navy communicator, a one-star Admiral. I voiced my apprehensiveness about being the lead grader for this program. He kindly reminded me that this program was a process, and we can take incremental steps to improve it together. That was comforting.

And now I’m on the bridge, marveling that our team leads put their heads together and ran with a great idea.

My boss and the Strike Group Admiral we were assessing heard from so many struggling to get this training right, including myself, and they listened to us. There were teams on eight ships who saw earlier training videos, and it was a game-changer in helping them understand how to film.

We had an “all in” approach to this project. Our leadership observed that units lacked the visual depiction of “What Right Looks Like.” Higher headquarters fleet commands approved the plan and flew in experts to help film the event. We went into post-production editing and my boss, four operators, and multiple communicators added valuable feedback. 

The video is now complete and getting additional reviews and edits. This was a moment in time I’ll forever be proud of. Years later, when the Navy is in the rear-view mirror, I’ll recall this sea story with great pride. It’s likely not the final version of the video, and others will make it better, and that’s what progress is about.  

I write this because it’s easy to forget that what I’m doing matters in the day-to-day work grind. It’s easy to think that it’s too hard to “move the needle” on innovativeness and adopting a forward-learning approach. When I start to go down that negative spiral because it’s easy to do when frustrated, I intend to reflect on that beautiful sunny day standing on that warship’s bridge, watching people cooperate for the greater good. That day might not change the world monumentally, but tiny “sparks” like this give me the hope that anyone can make the world just a little bit better, one step at a time.

This is the team that I'm so blessed to be a part of. We're a small group of fleet evaluators, but we are a cohesive team

Thanks to all who played a partin turning this good idea into a reality.

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How serving in the Navy changed my life