When the First Amendment Award was created three years ago, there were hopes that it would reinvigorate the Alaska Press Club, that it would bring it back to its core mission: to strengthen journalism in Alaska.
The award itself is a huge crystal orb that sits on a pedestal -- and when you peer down into it, you see a map of Alaska magnified.
It's quite simple, but it is a beautiful symbol of the clarity we hope to bring to our work as journalists.
The First Amendment gives journalists the ability to speak truth to power. And that's what the Alaska Press Club hopes to encourage -- more investigative reporting, more in depth reporting that will help to make a difference in the communities we serve.
The first winner was John McKay, an attorney who has spent years defending the rights of Alaska reporters to do just that: to uncover information the public has a right to know.
The second recipient was Peter Dunlap-Shohl, who, through his cartoons, also spoke truth to power. And made us laugh as well, a reminder that in a free country we are free to criticize, even ridicule our leaders.
This year's honorees, Gregg and Judy Erickson, have a long history of fighting freedom of information battles that have helped many journalists beside themselves.
Personally, I feel it takes away from the power of the award to have "honorable mentions." I was unable to attend the Alaska Press Club board meeting in which Anne Kilkenny was chosen for special recognition. But I probably would have voted against it. I feel inviting Kilkenny to speak at the Alaska Press Club's annual conference this year, which we have done, is the best way to explore the role she played in the vice presidential race.
I can't speak for the board members who wanted to recognize Kilkenny. But my sense of it is that they were impressed with how she weathered community condemnation for voicing her criticisms of Gov. Sarah Palin. Kilkenny is one of those rare citizens who attends just about every local government meeting out of a sense of civic duty. This is worthy of praise, whether you agree or not with her views.
But personally, I think it's a bad idea for a journalism organization to give awards to community activists, because it could be perceived that that we support the cause of the activists.
The media has already been accused by the governor of having an agenda against her. This, on the surface, might seem to support her claim.
But I believe it wasn't Kilkenny's position on Palin that the board was recognizing, but her right to speak out, which she did, despite community pressure to suppress her dissenting view.
Kilkenny is also a symbol of our times, of how journalists no longer hold all the information tools. Maybe that was part of the appeal to the board members who wanted to recognize her. Today, each of us has the power to effect great change by exercising our First Amendment rights.
The landscape is changing faster than we can adapt to it. David Cohn, our keynote speaker at this year's Alaska Press Club conference, took me aback when I asked him what he wanted to talk about. He quickly replied with absolute confidence, "The death of the institutions of journalism and the light at the end of the tunnel."
The death of the institutions of journalism. Forget about the part about the "light at the end of the tunnel." The death of the institutions of journalism. Those words hit me to the core. So many of my colleagues have lost their jobs in the last year. Even so, I guess I've been in denial. Journalism as I practiced it will be history. Of course, when I started out banging out my news stories on a typewriter with the constant tapping of the wire service machine in the backdrop, the Internet was the furthest thing from my imagination. The fax machine didn't come until decades later. There's no way I'd go back to those days.
Through all these changes, the values of journalism have lived on:Â balance, fairness, accuracy, public service.
But today, as the ranks of journalists thin out, it gets harder to keep these values alive. Reporters are increasingly asked to multi-task to the point that they don't have time to do good research, ask good questions and reflect.
The editorial process is often shortchanged if not missing entirely, especially in the blogosphere.
Change is the only thing that's certain.
If you ever get a chance, read "A is for Ox." It's a book about the history of literacy. Once upon a time, the letter "A" was a symbol for  an ox. And in those days, only a privileged few had an understanding of those symbols. Stories were shared through the spoken word. They were community property.
Then came the printing press. Stories became the property of individuals, and our world changed light years.
Now individuals possess the tools of publishing information all over the world. And our world again is changing at warp speed.
When Alaska bloggers like Andrew Halcro broke major stories last summer, a threshold was crossed. And we can never return, partly because the boundaries are blurred. How do we find our way back? What is opinion? What is fact? What is personal bias?
These are questions that are hard to answer when it comes to bloggers. Usually bloggers have an agenda, and that's part of the appeal. Halcro has cast himself in a watchdog role for the Palin administration. He's up front about this. But he is a human being. And as humans, we are all flawed. Halcro's readers can serve as a check and balance. But if they share his world view, how effective will they be? But Halcro's blog is very successful because he provides information and perspectives that readers find valuable, despite his agenda, which he is very clear about. He's definitely not a Sarah Palin fan.
With news stories, readers often wonder about the hidden agenda of journalists. And sometimes, when reporters try to be fair, they overcompensate and give one side too much weight. So opinions can sometimes serve the reader better. They are free from the confines of clumsy attempts at objectivity. But in most cases, we are best served by news that seeks to inform the viewers about the different perspectives and conflicting information.
Alaska Dispatch doesn't appear to have an agenda, other than to serve as a marketplace of ideas -- to get information and views out that the mainstream media isn't covering. Alaska Dispatch gave Nick Tucker of Emmonak a forum that raised the awareness of the economic devastation on the Yukon in ways that news organizations have not been able to do. Through the exercise of free speech, he was able to effect change. Like Anne Kilkenny, he stood up for what he believed in.
But blogs tend to draw people with the same views, so Alaska Dispatch could over time lose a mix of perspectives. But it stands a better chance of being a more trusted source of information, if it continues to offer balance and opportunities for people to debate opposing views.
The editorial process in traditional newsrooms is a check and balance on our flawed human nature. The best newsrooms are those where journalists are free to vigorously disagree. But newsrooms have increasingly become places of fear. Fear of job loss. Fear of change.
Whatever becomes of the news business in the decades to come, we hope that the First Amendment and the traditional values of journalism will find a home in the transformation ahead.
I think again of that orb on a pedestal that the Press Club will give to Greg and Judy Erickson in Anchorage this Saturday night -- if the volcano doesn't keep them in Juneau.
It comes with a warning to avoid leaving it in direct sunlight too long -- that it could start a fire. Imagine that.
We hold that Promethean power in our grasp, both as citizens and as journalists. The power of information, a laser beam that can be used for good or ill.
I again am speculating on what Alaska Press Club board members had in mind when they wanted to honor Anne Kilkenny. Perhaps it is because she is a symbol of this strange crossroads where we are at. Whether you agree with Kilkenny or not, she is fearless. And in this time of fear, I understand why someone who is not afraid to speak out would have great appeal to many of our Press Club board members.
These are colleagues I respect. And I know they respect my right to exercise my right to disagree with them on this one. We are all flawed. Even journalists. And especially me.
Three years ago, when the board created this award, it did accomplish its intent. It has reinvigorated the dialogue about what journalism means and why it's important.
Rhonda McBride is a reporter for KTUU Channel 2 and a member of the Alaska Press Club's board of directors.