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FEATURE STORY
Jan./Feb. 2007
Morning Star

Tonya
Francisco |
Each morning,
thousands of Chicagoans wake up
to CLTV news anchor Tonya Francisco,
one of the brightest in the business
By Rachel Parker
Photography by
Lloyd DeGrane
At 3:12 a.m., news anchor Tonya
Francisco '92 LAS is in
her usual spot at CLTV: a quiet
corner, marked only by a sleepy
fax machine, stacks of copy paper
and a large mirror framed by rows
of illuminated light bulbs. Facing
her reflection, she methodically
removes bottles and compacts from
a cosmetic purse-her bag of tricks,
she calls it-neatly placing them
on a waist-high table. She takes
a sponge and, after moistening it
with mocha-tinted foundation, dabs
her nose and cheeks rapidly, her
gold teardrop earrings swinging
gently from side to side. Clad in
a pale yellow sweater set, crisp
white capris and wedge sandals,
she has another 30 minutes to finish
her look, grab a cup of coffee and
settle before the camera. At 3:45
a.m., she'll begin anchoring the
morning news.
"I'm actually one of those
people who hates makeup," she
confesses in between dabs. "I
didn't even wear it until I started
working in television." She
opens a tube of gloss and swipes
her lips efficiently. "I'm
always surprised when people recognize
me on the street because I don't
usually wear it."
"There
are a lot of people in this business
who couldn't take it anymore"
Like getting dolled up, Francisco
avoids getting recognized as a CLTV
anchor when she is in public and
off-duty. It embarrasses her, she
explains, almost apologetically.
She's never been a person who likes
the spotlight. "So why go into
television?" she asks. "I
do it because I like to tell stories
and I want to be out there for the
greater good." She pauses,
holding the sponge in mid-air. "I
know it sounds like, 'Oh, I'm a
crusader,'" she continues,
"but the news really has an
impact on people's lives."
Francisco's tendency to shy away
from the spotlight hasn't stunted
her growth as a news anchor-if anything,
it has enhanced it. Undis-tracted
by her quasi-celebrity status, she
focuses intently on the needs of
her audience. That steers both the
questions Francisco asks during
interviews ("I think, what
would I want to know if I were sitting
at home on my couch?" she explains)
and the types of stories she covers.
If someone like her mother or next-door
neighbor, for example, wouldn't
be interested in a story, then she
is not interested either.
Keeping the public's interest at
heart has also made this self-described
perfectionist an obsessive fact-checker
("I have a responsibility to
get it right," she says frequently)
and someone who insists that, if
you haven't told a story lucidly,
you haven't done your job. In addition,
spending too much time behind the
anchor desk leaves Francisco feeling
disconnected from her audience;
as a result, she is proactive about
getting out in the field to cover
stories.
In fact, though Francisco has covered
major national news stories such
as 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina, it's
the smaller stories she has completed
in the field that have fulfilled
her most-and earned her the most
accolades. During her tenure as
general assignment reporter and
weekend anchor at WJRT-TV in Flint,
Mich., from 1996 to 2002, Francisco
spent six weeks on the picket line
with laid-off General Motors workers.
"How are you feeding your family
without a paycheck?" she asked
them. "How are things going
at home?" Similarly, when six-year-old
Kayla Rolland was shot and killed
by another six-year-old at Buell
Ele-mentary School in Mount Morris
Township, Mich., in 2000, Francisco
was on the scene within minutes.
Consequently, she was one of the
first news anchors to question the
shaken students from Rolland's class
and the only anchor whose cameraman
captured the little girl being wheeled
away on a stretcher. While working
on "Idlewild," a documentary
about the Northern Michigan town,
Francisco spent countless hours
in the area, reporting on its history
as a summer vacation spot for prominent
African Americans such as W.E.B.
DuBois and Madame C.J. Walker. Her
efforts helped earn the documentary
a Michigan Association of Broadcasters
News Special Merit Award and a second
place award from the National Association
of Black Journalists in 2002.
But as much as Francisco enjoys
street-level reporting, she is careful
to maintain a certain distance.
To survive as a reporter, she explains,
requires telling a story without
becoming emotionally involved. Otherwise,
"you'd be a basket case,"
she notes. "There are a lot
of people in this business who couldn't
take it anymore–going to murder
victims' houses, interviewing their
families. They couldn't take the
nastiness of life. You have to stay
distant to save yourself."
Practicing
her d's, t's and s's
On the set at 3:40 a.m., Francisco
sits at the anchor desk, her brow
furrowing in concentration as she
clicks away at a laptop computer.
In between sips of coffee, she scours
news Web sites, searching for breaking
stories and fact-checking her script.
Francisco isn't distracted by the
blinding lights looming overhead;
cameras surrounding her like a firing
squad; or the fact that she is on
display among several televisions
in the control room.
Though the cameras start rolling
at 3:45 a.m., Francisco won't appear
on the air until 5 a.m. That's because
CLTV operates on a digital format,
meaning that its newscasts, for
the most part, are prerecorded.
Each story reported by Francisco
is like a puzzle piece: It's individually
taped and then inserted into a specific
time slot in the newscast. All this
happens in the control room, which
means that Francisco works alone
on the set.

With
the rest of the CLTV staff stationed
in the control room, Francisco
works alone on the set. In the
control room, Francisco is monitored
by her director and producer
on several television screens.
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"Bystanding," Francisco
says, shifting her shoulders back
and gazing confidently into the
camera. A few seconds pass. "Good
morning, this is Tonya Fran-cis-co!"
she says in a smooth, upbeat voice,
her lips spread into a relaxed smile.
"Coming up on CLTV this morning..."
In some ways, Francisco's style
as a reporter is a culmination of
what she's learned over the years
from observing other Chicago-area
news anchors. You'll rarely hear
her use the words "well"
or "now," ever since anchor
Diann Burns explained that those
were "crutch" words. Following
the style of Cheryl Burton, Francisco
is careful to always ask open-ended
questions during an interview. And
after studying Ron Magers' "sma-hooth
as silk" voice, Francisco's
tone has an almost velvety quality
to it.
But perhaps the person who made
the biggest impact on Francisco
is Linda Yu. Shortly after graduating
from UIC, Francisco mailed application
tapes to dozens of television stations
in the hopes of securing a reporter
position. Not a single station contacted
her for an interview, and Yu was
the only person to explain why.
"She told me, 'Your diction
is poor,'" recalls Francisco.
"'You don't pronounce your
d's, t's and s's. You say "ol";
it's "old." You say "dis";
it's "this." When I was
a little Chinese girl growing up,
I spoke really lightly and didn't
want to pronounce all my words.
Someone finally told me, you have
to get with it.'"
So Francisco got with it: Following
Yu's instructions, she picked up
a newspaper, underlined all the
words ending in d, t and s, and
practiced speaking those words out
loud until she was hoarse. Then
Francisco made another tape and
sent it to television stations.
Months later, she was hired as a
reporter and associate producer
for WOOD-TV in Grand Rapids, Mich.
The other
side of the camera
At 5:30 a.m., Francisco takes a
break from taping and heads into
the kitchen, where she replenishes
her coffee cup and microwaves a
packet of cinnamon-flavored oatmeal.
At UIC, she remembers fondly, her
and her friends' diets often consisted
of fried chicken, tacos and burgers.
"We would run up that food
court in Inner Circle," she
says. "When you got out of
class, that was where you hung out.
It was great."
But as good as UIC was for Francisco's
social life, it was even better
for her career. As a junior, without
a declared major or sense of direction,
Francisco was encouraged by a career
counselor to take a Myers &
Briggs personality test. The test
revealed that she would do well
as a teacher or in communications.
"I'm like, I don't want to
deal with a bunch of rug rats,"
Francisco jokes. "So, okay,
I'll do communications." Uncertain
of what type of communications to
pursue, she began interning, first
for the City of Chicago's Public
Information Officer and then for
WMAQ-TV's short-lived entertainment
show "Chicago Live." The
latter proved a perfect fit. "I
was hooked," she says. "Here
I am, this college kid, working
at Channel 5 in Chicago, coming
up with segment ideas and booking
guests. It was absolutely fabulous."
WMAQ-TV executives felt the same
way, extending Francisco's internship
from three months to six months-which
she completed while taking a full
load of classes, working part-time
as a Jewel cashier and commuting
from her parents' house on Chicago's
West Side.
Fresh out of UIC, Francisco wanted
to work in television exclusively
behind-the-scenes. But after taking
a desk assistant job at WLS-TV Chicago
in 1992, she started thinking about
being on the other side of the camera.
In the midst of writing and editing
scripts for reporters, "I thought,
'I'm making a 16th of what [the
reporters] are making,'" she
recalls. "I can do that!"
Francisco then left WLS-TV and relocated
to Michigan to try her hand at reporting
for smaller markets. She honed her
skills for seven years before returning
to Chicago in 2002, polished and
ready for CLTV.
Making
lemonade
The door to Dunkin' Donuts chimes
as Francisco passes through it at
8:45 a.m., some 15 minutes after
she's finished taping for the day.
Technically, Francisco is on-duty
at CLTV until 10:30 a.m.-just in
case there's breaking news to report-but
with today being a slow news day,
she has time to stop at her favorite
coffee shop.
Francisco approaches the register.
"Medium coffee, please,"
she says. Out of the corner of her
eye, she notices a burly, big-bellied
man staring at her through thick
glasses.
"You know, you look like the
lady on CLTV," he says.
"Do I?" she responds,
innocently.
"Yeah, she's on in the mornings,"
he replies.
"Really?"
"Yeah. But what threw me off
was when you started talking."
"That's not me? You don't
think so?"
"No," he says, pausing
for a moment. "Is it?"
"Ha ha!" she exclaims.
The man forces an uncertain chuckle.
"Wait-you are?" he asks.
Francisco nods and gives a little
smile as she pays for her coffee.
"Okay!" he responds enthusiasti-cally.
"Good seeing you!"
"Thank you," she says,
picking up her coffee and heading
for the door.
Such encounters are common for
Francisco-and they speak to the
impact she has made as a CLTV anchor.
Chicagoans know her and look upon
her fondly. In only four years,
she has become a respected broadcast
journalist in this major metropolitan
market.
But Francisco takes little credit
for her success. Humble by nature,
she insists that she's ascended
the career ladder because, on a
number of occasions, she was in
the right place at the right time.
"I was lucky that I dropped
off my resume at a time when Channel
7 had an opening and was willing
to hire me," she says. "Would
the same thing have happened if
I had dropped it off a week later?
Maybe not.
"I
don't slight Lady Fortune, because
she has played a huge role in my
career"
Francisco does admit that she's
tried to make the most of every
job she has had, even in instances
where her circumstances were less
than ideal. Living in Flint, she
says, was miserable on a social
and personal level; there was little
nightlife or dating scene for a
twenty-something like herself, which
left her feeling lonely and out
of place. But realizing the professional
opportunities at WJRT-TV, she stuck
with her job and focused on building
rapport with co-anchors, spending
grueling hours in the field and
tackling difficult assignments,
such as interviewing family members
of a car-crash victim. "You
take lemons and you make lemonade,"
she says. "That's just how
I see it. You get out of it what
you put into it." Francisco
also says that you should never
reach a point in your career where
you stop learning or improving your
skills. She practices what she preaches
at CLTV by working on her time-management
skills and pitching feature stories
to her producer, something that
goes above-and-beyond her required
duties.
However dedicated Francisco is
to her career, she asserts that
having a work-life balance and good
quality of life are important to
her. She makes time to pick up her
nephew from school, gather family
members for impromptu fish fries
or indulge in her guilty pleasure,
"E! True Hollywood Story."
Francisco says that some of the
big-shots of broadcast journalism-Barbara
Walters and Diane Sawyer, for instance-have
sacrificed their personal lives
for their careers, but that's where
she draws the line. "At a certain
point, you have to start thinking
about what's important in your life,"
she says. "I like doing what
I'm doing. But more importantly,
I want to [eventually] be married
and have kids and a nice, stable
home. Because I truly believe home
is where your joy is."
Today, after she leaves CLTV, Francisco
will be working on her home. She
just finished painting her bathroom
"earthy brown" and wants
to find a soap dish and toothpaste
holder to match. So far, she has
checked out the selection at Sears,
Bed Bath & Beyond, Linens 'n
Things, Macy's, Carson Pirie Scott
and Target, but hasn't found exactly
what she's looking for. If that
seems like a little much, then you
don't know Tonya Francisco. Because
she always has to get it right.
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