Interim Managing Editor, NPR One
Tamar Charney is the managing editor for NPR One.
I’m one of those people who is perfectly content to sit alone in a restaurant, observing the people around me. It’s no surprise I became a journalist because I enjoying wondering what other people's lives are about.
I’ve been a public radio jack of all trades — DJ, newscaster, arts reporter, talk show producer, and for almost a decade I ran Michigan Radio’s on-air, online, and news strategy and operations. Currently, I'm the managing editor for NPR One, which is a new way to listen to public radio news and podcasts from stations, networks like PRI, and producers you've never heard of before, but will love!
Fun fact: I’ve done voiceovers for funeral homes, truck engine repair training modules and even a cartoon hepatitis virus — yes, you read that right.
I grew up in Nashville, Tennessee, before the city was full of hipsters, moved to Michigan for school and I stay here because I fell in love with snow, the Great Lakes, and the stories there are to tell about this area.
When her iPhone didn’t recognize her, she recognized something in herself and all of us. Tamar Charney writes.
Like teenagers with identical long straight hair, leggings and UGGs, all our main streets are conforming to the same ideal of perfect smalltown America. This is no accident.
We're cocooned. We're far away. We're headed home. And we flip through our photos of ourselves and our loved ones in anticipation. Narcissistic? How about human?
Let's be honest, there's something to those scenes of decay in Detroit that captures the imagination of photographers and viewers alike. They speak to a cautionary tale about a beautiful industrial powerhouse laid to ruin by the slow disaster that was globalism, racism, corruption and neglect. But despite these lingering images, things are changing and more is improving than just the murder rate.
I and a lot of my fellow journalists felt queasy from the live footage of the inside of the apartment where the suspected San Bernardino shooters lived. In the context of news coverage and social media it can feel perfectly OK to know to much. In real life it is a different story.
Put an article in front of me about some 19-year-old exchanging flirty texts with a middle aged militant and I won't get anything done until I finish it.