I grew up with local news. This is why I still believe in it

It was late on a Friday afternoon in January this year, when fires broke out west of Ballarat. We had few staff on deck at The Courier but when a story breaks, the newsroom needs to pivot.

Very quickly, we knew that whole communities close to the city's fringes were being asked to evacuate. A sudden wind change could prove catastrophic.

Meanwhile, in the central Victorian community of Harcourt, my uncle hosed down his fence as flames threatened neighbouring properties. Broadcast alerts said it was too late to leave. To look at an emergency services map that afternoon, it was a sea of red across regional Victoria. Communities were on high alert.

Leigh Graham, of Streatham near Ballarat, fought a fire next door as his own home burned to the ground in January. Picture by The Courier's Nick Powell

Our reporters and photographers were on the ground, keeping readers informed. But it was in the days and weeks that followed where our teams remained, ensuring the communities of Skipton and Streatham, Harcourt and Ravenswood, were never forgotten by decision-makers.

It's one example from the past year of our newsrooms serving as the definitive voice and champion of our community.

At 21, I walked into the newsroom as a cadet journalist, notebook in hand and a lot to learn. We told stories in print, with the most compelling news of the day making the front page. To this day, we still tell stories with the same impact; moving stories of tragedy and triumph that affect our communities - just like the bushfires.

Digital disruption was already knocking on our door, but few could have predicted just how radically the media landscape would be reshaped over the next 20 years.

In 2011, I took my first step into that realm. iPhones changed the way we worked. Suddenly, we were reporting from the scene, publishing copy to our websites and social media in real time, serving rapidly growing audiences. Over the past decade, I've worked in and supported newsrooms across Australia and, throughout that time, media has been a volatile beast. As revenue streams change, so too have our resources.

Emily Sweet, managing editor. File picture.

It's taught me to embrace change and move fast. You can't control emerging technologies. Your audiences have already adopted them. If you don't move with them, you will be left behind.

At its core, what we do hasn't changed. The way we deliver it certainly has. And we may have fewer journalists and photographers on the ground. But our newsrooms are still local storytellers. We still listen to our communities and call for change. We watch the sliding doors of government leadership at all levels. We still hold them to account. Our team is on the sidelines, watching a third-generation footballer kick the winning goal. They're sitting in our local courts as justice is handed down.

It's about being a voice for our community. That's still the same.

If sirens start, where do you turn?

The question I am asked most often by readers in our communities, where our mastheads have been powerful forces for 160 years, is whether there will come a day when we no longer need newspapers. I don't have a crystal ball to answer that.

However, when you're in the thick of a breaking-news event and the days that follow, one thing is for certain: we will never live in a world where we don't need local news.

My connection to news goes back to my childhood. Collecting The Courier from the roadside mailbox, alongside the Stock & Land. We would read the papers at the kitchen table. Often, I'd be sprawled on the lounge room floor, reading the stories and trawling the classifieds for names I'd recognise.

Growing up on the farm, local news was the soundtrack to mealtimes. In the car, John Laws would discuss issues of national significance on talkback radio, while Ian McNamara would take you into the lives of ordinary people on a Sunday morning on Australia All Over.

Today, my news habits span a variety of mastheads, mostly read on my phone, via apps, social media and podcasts in the car. But it's local news where you find real community and everything that affects it.

The real cost of a news desert

There is a persistent view that regional news outlets are relics of a bygone era. But our readers and our data tell a different story. In ACM's annual reader survey this year, an overwhelming 88 per cent of regional Australians emphasised that local journalism matters deeply to them.

Across Ballarat and Bendigo, nearly 75 per cent of our subscribers told us that our mastheads are the main way they understand what is happening in their local community. So, while the way people consume news has changed, the appetite for our storytelling has never been greater.

The Courier.

Today's reader might check a breaking news alert on their phone while making breakfast. They may scroll through our email newsletter over a coffee. They may read our digital print edition on a tablet over lunch and share or comment on one of our social media posts that night.

Building a sustainable digital future for it will require continued technological innovation and new commercial models, but our commitment to journalism that maintains reader trust cannot change. The local news that gives the community a voice, celebrates triumphs and challenges, brings issues to light and holds the powerful to account is essential - and so is its future.

Emily Sweet is managing editor of ACM network's The Courier and Bendigo Advertiser. ACM has applied for grant funding through the federal government's News Innovation Fund.