Wednesday, October 08, 2008
Keep going until you reach the other side
This was about as close to marching orders as we'd get. At least in the near future.My coworkers and I filed slowly into the small conference room in our office, the managing editor of our paper seated on one side of the oval table. For the next hour, she'd tell us what she knew, which wasn't much, but it was something.
All of the bureaus were closing, she said. And the two remote offices would be housed temporarily downtown in our office and another down the hall. The first reporter from South County arrived today.
In essence, the days of hyperlocal coverage writing about the minutae of Town Council and School Committee meetings -- were over, she said. The boss wanted us all to write A1 stories. On our beats, some of the bigger stories would survive, while some of our smaller communities may not even see the light of day in the new paper. We probably won't tell the readers that we're doing away with the zoned editions she said. We should be prepared for the deluge of calls we'll recieve next week.
"We are reinventing the paper and it could be exciting," she told us. "But to get to exciting, we're gonna have to go through a whole lot of hell."
That was one thing we all knew.
In the days since the restructuring began, they've switched beats on some reporters, pulling a municipal reporter onto the blog, and moving the Providence reporter to a national sports beat.
Right. My thoughts exactly.
How we'll cover news in the future is largely unsettled, she said. We may do it by town, but more feasibly, we'll do topical coverage. We should get our dibs in now with beat preferance, so when the New World Order comes, at least our desires have been made known.
I just sent my e-mail to her, telling her that in a perfect world, I'd like to cover either legal affairs, education or news features, in that order.
As I watched my coworkers pepper her with questions, I tried not to be mad. I knew I had no room to be afraid -- everyone else was chalky with fear. I empathized with the M.E., having to go into rooms full of reporters with few, if any, answers. Not a job I'd envy. At least not now.
I tried to analyze what this new world would mean for me, an average reporter. I'd be competing against all of my coworkers for the same amount of space that's in a Monday paper. Ideally, it means I can write what I want, when I want, taking the time to craft stories and delve deeply into subjects. Realistically, it means that I've got to find better stories to tell or find myself squeezed out of the paper.
I sure hope I'll find them by the time we get to the other side.
Labels: fear, for journalism's sake, I-ain't-never-scared, industry analysis, Job survival, layoffs, the industry
continue...Sunday, September 14, 2008
Maybe I'm weird.I like being edited.
I mean, it's always a good feeling when someone hands you back copy and says, "This is great! No changes." It strokes your ego... but if you're me, the strokes are short. I start to wonder, "No changes? Are you sure? You positive I didn't miss anything? Are you SURE?!"
Chalk it up to my personal need for perfection, or the closest I can get to it. You can't get there if you're not challenged. Because if you're not challenged, you get stuck in your own little bubble thinking you can write rainbows and unicorns -- until finally, someone points out the muddy puddles and walruses on your page.
And then your feelings are hurt.
So yes, edit me, please. Especially if you're older, wiser, more seasoned and experienced. Anyone who knows me knows I have something of a reverence for the veterans at work. The hosts, reporters, editors -- all kind enough to chop up a young producer's copy.
Okay, yes, there are times when the revisions can annoy me (like choosing "gargantuan" instead of good ol' "huge"... inflated copy, anyone?), but most times, I just like sitting next to people I respect and learning from them. Three years out of school, I still consider myself a student. I figure, in order to be my best, I have to learn the best.
And, baby, I'ma be the best.
Labels: advice, Job survival, lessons, writing
continue...Thursday, August 07, 2008
Summer Survivial
One-third of the Ten95 crew participated in a panel during Unity called "Paying it Forward: How to Maximize Your Internship," as a part of the all-star crew that included recruiting phenom Joe Grimm, radio guru Doug Mitchell and reporting superstars Chloe Hilliard and Marlon Walker. Veronica moderated and I was a panelist.The room was packed. The kids were eager. The advice was super sound. Below are a few pics from event and our Top 20 lists of things to do -- and not to do -- while on a summer internship. The tips were written from a print perspective, but are applicable across mediums.
- DO learn who is who on the staff.
- DO understand that each staff is a living organism that you should easy your way into SLOWLY. Assertiveness is great but sometimes misplaced enthusiasm can rub some the wrong way.
- DON'T blog (Facebook or MySpace) about your internship. Your employer is watching and reading.
- DON'T feel a sense of entitlement while you're in a newsroom. Just because there are front page stories (or great packages) without writers, don't think that one is going to be yours.
- DO watch your editor to determine his or her work pattern and the best time of day (or week) to seek guidance and feedback.
- DO arrive 30 minutes early every day to get the best assignments. The early bird gets the worm. There are stories that your editor is probably waiting to assign as people come in for the day so make sure you're in the mix!
- DO cultivate a few relationships with people who understand your thought process well enough to be excellent references in the future and collect their business cards.
- DO offer to help out in any little way with a big story.
- DON'T jeopardize your credibility by having a romantic relationship during your internship --- especially not one with a permanent staffer.
- DON'T ever be hard to reach. Questions and opportunites can arise at any time.
- DON'T take criticism of your work personally. Work with your supervisors to make it better.
- DON'T say "I don't want to," and don't hesitate to say, "I'm not sure how, but I want to learn."
- DO make sure that you understand your assignment and ask detailed questions before you head out to report. You can write the best story in the world, but if its not what your editor requested, it won't earn you any points.
- DO make or beat your deadline.
- DO chat up other reporters. If you see a story someone did and you liked it or are interested in the process, ask them out for coffee or stop by their desk.
- DON'T forget to check every name, age, address and fact in your story, in addition to running spell check. No one likes messy copy.
- DON'T turn your nose up at any assignment. Small stories lead to bigger opportunities.
- DO ask for feedback. Midway through your internship, schedule a sit down with your editor/supervisor to discuss your performance to-date. What areas need work? In what areas are you excelling? What does your editor want to see going forward? Take the feedback to heart and work on the areas that need improvement.
- DO set tangible goals. Make a list that will serve as the roadmap to your internship. What skills do you want to learn? What particular stories or topics would you like to cover?
- DO come up with your own story ideas and pitch them to your editor.
(Photo captions from top to bottom: Talia answering a question on the panel; Chloe and Marlon dropping knowledge on the interns; Veronica keeping us all in line.)
Labels: internships, Job survival, NABJ, office politics, tips and tricks, unity
continue...Thursday, July 24, 2008
Ask and Ye Shall Receive
By 7:45 a.m. today, I was up, dressed and having breakfast with Arthur Sulzberger Jr., publisher of The New York Times.Yeah, I was doing it up. But not really.
See, the breakfast was sponsored by the Maynard Institute for Journalism Education, which celebrates its 30th anniversary this year. In honor of the milestone, they invited alumni of their programs to this breakfast and conversation about the future of the industry with Sulzberger.
I ain't an alumni. But my boss is.
When I told her I was going to UNITY, she mentioned that she'd been invited to this breakfast and wouldn't be able to go. It sounded interesting so I asked.
"Do you think you could see if I could go in your place," I asked her. "Since I'll be there. I don't like mornings, but at conventions, I try to go to as many sessions and events as possible to take advantage of my time there. Just let me know if it is a possibility."
It was.
And the sausage, blueberry pastry and pineapple were mm mmm good.
That's one of the cardinal rules of internships, jobs, shoot, just life. Ask and ye shall receive. If there is an opportunity for you to even play a small part on a large project, or you see a reporter grumbling about a story you'd love to have, ask to help out. The absolute worst thing that can happen if you ask is that a person says no. At best, you'll have a great byline, or tagline on an important story and you'll build relationships with coworkers and gain reporting/interviewing/writing techniques by osmosis. So identify what you want, who might be able to give it to you, and see if they're willing to do so. You might be surprised at their answer.
To be honest, I almost didn't make it there this morning. Last night, we were out singing karaoke at a local club in the Sheraton lobby. I didn't make it to bed until 2:30 in the morning. So when that clock went off at 6:20 a.m., I pressed snooze.
And again at 6:45. And 7:00. In my head, I said no one would care if I missed this breakfast. And I'd get to sleep. But I'd asked and I really did want to go to the event. Plus, I was hungry.
So I dragged myself out of bed, threw together an outfit and hoofed it to the Sheraton. I found the room and hopped into the buffet line, figuring that by the time I got through it, everyone would have sat down and I'd be able to find a seat. I ended up standing behind Wil LaVeist, a former columnist at the Daily Press (the local paper in my college town) and we chatted it up about Hampton, his move away and back to the tidewater area (he now works for the Virginian-Pilot) and how I'm finding Providence. There was a vacant seat at his table, so we continued the chat over eggs and OJ.
The conversation, led by founder Dorothy Butler Gilliam (formerly of the Washington Post), centered on the changing industry and what our product and the journalists of tomorrow should look like. Among the highlights:
- In your newsroom, there should not be a newspaper division and a Web division, Sulzberger said. With the emphasis on the Internet as it is today, there should be one person coordinating the news and web postings for each section. Not one person coordinating the news and another posting it to the web. (Interesting because my paper is definitely set up with two distinct divisions)
- People have been predicting the death of newspapers for the last 10 years. But at the Times, Sulzberger said, the circulation has nearly doubled in recent years. While print readers have remained stagnant, the number of online readers has increased steadily.
- The average person spends 35 minutes a day with the paper; the average online reader spends 35 minutes a month on a newspaper Web site, he said. To survive, we have to find out how to make sites "stickier" so people will spend more time there.
- As we learn more about shooting video, writing stories and collecting audio, always remember the product. The tools are nice, but just remember you are using them to create quality work -- they shouldn't take away from that main goal.
- The Times is doing a great job with hiring minorities in its Web division, but those minorities are overwhelmingly Asian. They need a larger pool of qualified applicants from ALL backgrounds (hint: if you're trying to get in at the NYT, get your multimedia on).
I learned something else today, too. Sulzberger is pretty funny. He's a likeable guy -- at least from afar. Seems like it would be pretty cool to sit down to a cup of coffee with him.
Well, I at least got close to it today, just because I asked.
Labels: internships, Job survival, musings, NABJ, unity
continue...Thursday, February 21, 2008
Just a Phone Call Away
I gotta say, I love my friends.So, I've been working the night metro cops shift all week. As the nature of the shift, you get a hodge podge of stories to cover. Well, yesterday, I was following the Canadian court case of a Brown University hockey player accused of child pornography. I wanted to include some of the player's stats -- I figured it was relevant -- but I'm a sports dud. I don't know how to read statistics, I don't understand the abbreviations, nothing.
First, I asked the Metro editor. He didn't know.
He went to go ask the sports guys. But time was ticking and I had an assignment at 5 p.m. (it was like, 4:30).
I needed answers now.
I pull out my phone and dial Darren, a fellow Ten95er. I have no clue what he was doing, but when I asked him if he could help me with a hockey question, he obliged. Explained the random letters and what they meant and did it without making me feel stupid. I was able to file my story and rush over to my assignment without being too, too late.
So, here's to Darren, and friends like him: always there when you need them on deadline.
*Cheers*
Labels: Job survival, musings, shoutouts, sports
continue...Friday, February 15, 2008
How do you cover a beat better?
Hell has nothing on the week I just had.The School Committee postponed a vote on the teacher's contract. The teacher's union cut the board some slack and not pulling the work to rule card on the district as they had last semester. A suspected murderer was arraigned and sentenced on a parole violation. A dispised former fire marshal retired. The pension board saw its hands tied because the fire department contract guarantees the marshal's pension. The former town manager is looking to sue the town. Oh, and there's a blood drive to commemorate the five year anniversary of the worst fire in Rhode Island history.
My town is popping. And that's a good thing. But all that popping just leaves me pooped.
In between this rapid-fire week, I scheduled interviews almost every day this week, which meant my days were long and full. I just filed my last story of the week -- on the murder suspect -- and my back hurts from sitting at my desk.
Beyond that, I'm starting to kind of feel inadequate. (Way to bury the lede, huh?)
See, two of the stories I had to write this week -- the town manager suing the town and the fire marshal retiring -- I was beat on. Scooped, respectfully, by a local TV station (which was slipped the confidential document) and the Associated Press.
So not only did I spend my week essentially switching gears as news broke midday, but I spent most of it feeling crappy about getting beat. It really hit me today as I sat in Panera, eating a chicken caesar salad after attending the murder arraignment, because that's when my boss called me about the town manager threatening a lawsuit.
I put my head down on the wood panelled windowsill as the chorus to this song played over and over in my head. I found a pen and took notes on a recycled paper napkin. This week would not end. My manager said she could see if someone from the Metro desk could cover it, but that would only make me feel worse, like I couldn't handle my own beat.
So I cancelled an interview I'd scheduled for the afternoon, headed into the office, made calls, went back to the court house to see if any papers had been filed for the lawsuit and hounded the town solicitor.
I did the story. It's running tomorrow. But I don't know if I can keep this up. I don't like this feeling. So, I'm turning to you, Ten95 readers.
How do keep from getting beat in a culture where you're one of four reporters in a bureau that, in its heyday, had probably 10? I check the cop logs. I have good sources. But I'm competing against 3 reporters who cover my town for the local paper, TV and the wires. How do I cover my beat better?
Labels: burnout, dismay, Job survival, musings, the industry
continue...Friday, February 08, 2008
Shooting at Missouri TC meeting kills 5
Sometimes this job scares me.I heard about this shooting at a Missouri Town Council meeting and couldn't believe it actually happened. Maybe it seemed surreal because I spend a lot of my reporting life in Town Council meetings just like this one. I'm there for the fights. I'm there when people get riled up. I'm there through it all. And I know how crazy it can get.
Five people were killed by a disgruntled resident who stormed into a town council meeting and opened fire. A reporter for the local paper was shot in the hand. Another reporter told her eyewitness account of the scene.
I think what's scary about the Missouri incident is that there was nothing anyone could have done to prevent this from happening. And that the reporters who were there covering probably some benign thing, were just caught in the line of fire.
My boss heard about it on CNN and we started talking about it.
It's crazy, we agree. Sounds like something that would have happened in the town I cover. I'm silent for a minute. Then:
"I think if that did happen, I probably would have gotten shot," I say.
Between the enemies I've made during my time covering this town and people upset at my paper as an institution, I hate to think it, but I probably would have been in the crosshairs.
My boss looks at me and gives me a less than reassuring smile.
Labels: fear, Job survival, shooting
continue...Thursday, November 15, 2007
"You Make Me Sick."
It started off benign enough.“West Bay,” I said into the phone. “Talia Buford speaking.”
“Yeah, I was reading your article on Wednesday,” said the caller.
“Which one?”
“The one on Payette,” he said.
I scroll through our archives and pull it up. A West Warwick man was arrested in connection with the stabbing death of another man the weekend in my community. I did the second day story, covered the arraignment and also spoke to Payette's sister, who said the system failed her brother.
I prompt the caller to continue.
“It’s reporters like you who give the ACI (the state corrections system) a bad name. He’s scumb. He woulda killed you if you looked at him funny. I knew the guy. And you talk to his low-life sister? Give him a job. The best thing that could happen to this guy is to give him the gas chamber. You make me sick. Why don’t you report the truth for once?”
Then he hangs up.
I sat there silent for a few seconds before hanging up the phone. The sigh that escaped from my lips had to be covered in frustration and hurt.
The voice from over the cubicle says quietly: “Talia, are you okay?”
I tell my coworker I’m fine. And I go back to work.
Labels: controversy, frustration, Job survival, readers
continue...Thursday, July 05, 2007
Ask and You Shall Receive
The e-mail blared a message of congratulations from the subject line:"You're Accepted! Seminar for New Education Reporters"
So, I know what you're thinking. No, I'm not an education reporter and yes, I have been on my job for almost two years now (my how time flies). But I'm one who always jumps at an opportunity.
A few weeks ago, a message to a journalism listserv I subscribe to mentioned the seminar and encouraged us to apply. I figured it might be cool to get some additional training. I mean, even though I don't cover schools exclusively, almost half of my job is covering my town school department, which makes up about 60 percent of the municipal budget. If a beat reporter ever tells you he or she doesn't need to cover education, pray for them. They're going to need all the help they can get to make it through this industry. I wrote how education stories are vital to understanding a community in my application essay:
Education is the stick by which all communities can be measured. Spend one day in a school and a person is guaranteed to have a better idea of what that community values and what is being passed on to the next generation. Battles over funding are evidenced by tattered social studies books and crowded classrooms. Changes in demographics manifest themselves in additional ESL teachers and adjustments to the curriculum. Racial disputes and criminal trends are often seen in truancy court or disciplinary hearings.
So, I applied. And even though the deadline had long since passed, the organizers agreed to take a look at my application. The next day, I got that congratulatory e-mail.
Just goes to show that it never hurts to ask. I kind of assumed the deadline had passed, but I figured I'd ask if I could still apply. Worst they could say is no. But, it also illustrates how important it is to be cognizant of deadlines: and to meet them. If I'd been keeping up with seminars I was interested in, I wouldn't have needed to be dependent upon the kindness of strangers.
Lesson learned.
Labels: Job survival, seminars/workshops, the industry, tips and tricks
continue...Saturday, June 16, 2007
Sunny disposition
Sometimes you need to step out of a situation to see it clearly.I think that's doubly true when it comes to your career.
I spent the weekend at Poynter re-evaluating my life. My girl, Jessie, was serving as a guest faculty member at the summer program we both participated in. So, I hoped on a flight and decided to mooch off of her and the Institute for a few days.
The look on my former teacher's faces when I walked in was priceless. I soaked up some sun at Passagrille. And I worked.
I helped one group find their story focus and dished with another girl about racist comments I've encountered on my beat. I sat in on classes, answered questions and encouraged a student to do the stories he wanted to do -- not the ones he felt were too large to do in four days.
Being here not only energized me, but it made me look at where my career has gone. Being here reminded me of how much zeal and passion I used to have for this craft. Being here reminded me why I got into journalism in the first place.
The result? Something needs to change.
I need to tell some stories. I need to do the journalism that initially drew me to this thing. I need something that will fill this void that I've been feeling lately at work.
These three days in St. Pete were exactly what I needed to clear my head.
Now, it's just a matter of making my resolution a reality.
Labels: frustration, inspiration, Job survival
continue...Thursday, May 31, 2007
My "Oh Crap" Moment
Have you ever had your heart set on something, arranged things so they'll turn out well and then had circumstance and poor planning just blow your plans to smithereens?Yeah, that happened to me yesterday.
I pitched a story about the practice of putting totaled cars on high school lawns for prom season a few weeks back. My goal was to have it run on June 1, the day of my high school's prom and just before graduation season began.
But when I walked into the office on Wednesday, my boss told me that we needed my story for the centerpiece today.
Crap.
I still needed to talk to an official, go to the school, see the car and interview kids. I'd planned to do all that today, but take some time to write it and give it some of my trademark detail and spunk.
Somehow, through the day, I got a hold of my town official (a feat in and of itself), and then trekked down to the high school, where I spent many minutes in the sun trying to pull quotes out of nonchalant teenagers. Then, I went to the SADD (Students Against Destructive Decisions) meeting and talked to some kids there.
By the time I got back to my office, it was 3 p.m.
I sat down and began organizing my story. I had some statistics and an interview from our local MADD (mothers against drunk driving) chapter so I began writing in chunks. Then, I pulled in the stuff from the interviews from earlier yesterday and did a clip search to find some teens who'd died in drunk driving accidents recently.
It was approaching 5:30 and I still didn't have my lede.
Normally, I wouldn't have been stressing. However, yesterday, my paper hosted a graduation day for all of the state valedictorians. They all came to our offices, got their picture taken and were available for us to interview. I was told I needed to be there.
The picture started at 6 p.m. I could get there at 6:30 at the latest.
So I hustled. I called some journo friends -- most of whom didn't answer. I needed to talk this story out. I IM'd my lede to a friend and got her opinion, and then finally got a hold of another friend to talk things through. I struggled through the lede, spell checked and CQ'd my names and sent it to the copy desk.
6:32 p.m.
Then, I rushed upstairs and found my valedictorian. We talked and I found out that in addition to wanting to be a brain surgeon, he was also a talented fire juggler and ping pong player. Who knew? By the time I finished my interview, I was so exhausted, I just left the office after stopping in to check with the desk.
All night I stewed.
I tried not to, honest. I know I did the best I could under the circumstances, but this was MY story. And I wanted it to be great. Now, the best it could be was good. I tried to shrug it off and instead told myself that I had another opportunity to get it right tomorrow. That is the beauty of my profession I said. But inside, I knew that I was hurt.
This morning, I got up and went to an assignment. When I came into the office, a co-worker pulled me aside and asked me why my story didn't go all editions -- it was that good.
I shrugged, told her that I was disappointed in the story and that I didn't even broach the possibility of having it go all eds to my editor. I sat down and as I placed my story for tomorrow's paper on the budget, my boss came over to me.
"I think your story came out good," she said. "Are you happy with it?"
I wanted to stop the words as they came out of my mouth but I couldn't.
"Not really," I said, looking at my keyboard.
"Why," she asked. "What wasn't in there that you would have wanted in there?"
"Nothing," I said, glancing up to face my boss. "But I don't feel I had the time I needed to finesse the story the way I wanted to. It turned out fine, but I'm not happy with it."
She stared for a moment and then walked away.
I turned back to my computer and continued typing.
Labels: burnout, Job survival, office politics, the industry
continue...Wednesday, May 30, 2007
They Like Me, They Really Like ME!
The question rang out as soon as I got to my desk."Who got you flowers?"
There, next to my computer was a small flower arrangement set in a basket. I won't lie: I gasped when I saw them. I've only gotten flowers twice in my life, this being the second time. I reached for the note, searching my brain for a clue of who would possibly be sending me flowers.
The note said:
Dear Talia, Thank you so much for writing a positive story about our pit bull graduation. I can't tell you enough how much this means to me & the misunderstood breed. I have gotten quite a few phone calls/e-mails from people reading your article & everyone was pleased with a positive article written by a valued news writer. XOXO Susan Parker
I busted out laughing.
"Who's it from," my colleagues insisted.
"It's from the pit bull woman," I said with a laugh before handing over the note to my unbelieving coworkers.
Last week, I met with Parker, a dog trainer, to do an advance on a pit bull graduation she was hosting. The graduation was postponed so we ran the story earlier this week. What's even funnier is that this was a story that my boss almost didn't let me write.
I'd gotten the press release for the event in mid May and thought it would make for good pictures and a cute story. Pit bulls, graduation caps, instant centerpiece. I pitched it in our Friday meeting and my boss said everything but a flat out no.
The day before, we had a story in our section about a toddler being attacked by a pit bull, she noted. It wouldn't be appropriate for us to run a happy story about pits so close after the attack.
I disagreed.
"If anything, this is the perfect time to run this story because it's showing how to KEEP things like that attack from happening again through proper training and supervision," I said.
"Talia, I know what you're going to say," she started.
"No you don't because I haven't said it yet," I countered.
Yeah, we go hard in my office and I don't back down easily. I told her that I was completely aware of the attack and that part of my job as a responsible reporter would be to get the other side. I wouldn't just do a fluff story on the graduation, but a story on how the breed isn't bad inherently, but rather a product of their environment.
She didn't seem convinced.
"It seems like you may have your mind made up already," I told my boss. "I just want you to tell me if you want me to do this story because I don't want to waste my time."
She told me she'd think about it and let me know. But as she looked at the schedule after the long weekend, and realized we'd only have two reporters on Tuesday, she acquiesced and told me to do the story.
I reported it out and wrote the simple story. It ran as a secondary on Wednesday and I'd forgotten about it.
Then, the flowers showed up.
I called Parker to thank her for her kindness, though I told her that it was completely unnecessary. I'm sure she could hear my smile through the phone because I was cheesing from ear to ear.
All this, for a story I wasn't even supposed to write.
(Note to anyone who is trying to get on my good side: send flowers or gummy bears. I'll love you for life.)
Labels: inspiration, Job survival
continue...Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Size does matter
...at least when it comes to circulation.With the recent sales of media conglomerates, the ever shrinking newsroom and the exodus out of the fourth estate, at least one branch of the industry is seeing sunshine while we get cloudy days: the local newspaper. Washington Post reporter Frank Ahrens writes in a March article:
If there's any good news about the businesses of newspapering these days, it can be found at the industry's littlest papers, which are doing well even as their bigger brothers founder.
The average daily circulation of all U.S. newspapers has declined since 1987. The smallest papers, however -- community weeklies and dailies with circulation of less than 50,000 -- have been a bright spot in a darkened industry. As the Internet dramatically transforms the largest papers in the business -- siphoning classified advertising and commoditizing national news -- many small papers are weathering the decline with relative ease, and some are even prospering.
Why? Small papers face less competition from other media outlets, are insulated from ad slumps that have hammered big papers, employ smaller staffs of lower-salaried journalists and have a zealous devotion to local news, both in print and online, industry experts agree. Also, there is less competition on the Web for local news.
I know Ten95 readers have an opinion about what Ahrens is saying. Would you consider leaving the "mainstream" to work at a small paper - daily or weekly? Why or why not? If you work at a small paper, what advantages do you see to your job? Disadvantages? Should all newspapers focus on hyper-local coverage? Is that where the future of journalism is?
Discuss.
Labels: Job survival, musings, the industry
continue...Friday, April 20, 2007
Holding Out Hope
Last night I attended a discussion with Aaron McGruder, the Boondocks comic strip creator, at the Jewish Community Center (JCC) in San Francisco. In light of the recent media controversies, I was determined to ask McGruder about his thoughts on where things like media and free speech are in America. (Yeah, I know, a broad topic to ask a cartoonist.) But McGruder, like Don Imus (who deserved it), has felt the wrath of Al Sharpton and others who indulge in media-circus-like tactics to silence the voices who make them uncomfortable.I'd initially heard about the McGruder event on local radio. And earlier in the week I attended hip hop journalist Jeff Chang's book release and discussion. Prior to Chang's event, I was asked to go and photograph the event for Oh Dang Magazine with a writer who was interested in a possible online/multimedia component to what he would write. Chang was to lead the conversation with McGruder, so I thought it wise to introduce myself to Chang at his own event in hopes that he would be able to give me insight on how to get an interview with McGruder.
McGruder, I've been told, has been turning down interviews ever since the New Yorker ran an unflattering article about McGruder's character. The communications company coordinating the event for the JCC also informed me that the local NPR, ABC, and NBC stations had also called them requesting an interview with McGruder. So it seemed like the only way a journalist might see and hear from McGruder is at an event like this. You're acknowledged as media, but herded with the rest of the cattle (fans and enthusiasts, that is).
I did not want to take no for an answer. I believed that somehow if I approached McGruder with a humble spirit and my campus publication press pass taped to my forehead, I'd gain his sympathy and score an interview.
I had done well, I think, to introduce myself to Chang at his event. He remembered me when I approached him as he sat just feet away from McGruder, who was signing copies of his comic strip books.
"Would you have any idea what he's up to after he's done signing books," I asked, kneeling down just below his eye level as if to signal that I know I'm asking him for privileged information.
He, of course, made it clear that he could not "broker" me an interview with McGruder. And I understood that, assuring him that I was only asking if he knew what McGruder's plans were after the crowd and book signing line had died down. And I hoped, journalist to journalist, he'd recognize my determination to get the story. He recommended I wait around until after the crowds clear. So I did.
Meanwhile, I got crowd reaction quotes and photos. I got some shots of the crowded lobby from a balcony. I even interviewed legendary Black cartoonist Morrie Turner, who came to the event to meet McGruder. And once I'd gotten Turner's picture, I was certain that the story would be great if I got McGruder to talk to me.
Once the crowd began to thin considerably, I sat near the signing table. As the last few folks waited in line, it seemed as though McGruder had one foot out the door. He appeared to be ready to go. And I got nervous. So I approached Chang, who was still sitting a few feet away from McGruder. And again, kneeling just beneath his eye level, in an act of desperation, I asked:
"Do you think you could introduce me to McGruder after he's done signing that last book?"
"Don't put me in that position, man...why don't you go ask him yourself? Be a journalist."
Ouch.
Chang didn't know that I'd spent most of Tuesday calling everyone I could: people who'd hosted McGruder for talks and lectures at universities and community centers in Maryland, in Stockton, Calif. and even in New York. I had been trying to reach his rep. With no luck, and a discouraging call back from a Stockton Record reporter, I still didn't give up hope.
Fact was, McGruder himself had not yet told me no. So I stood feet away from McGruder with my M-Audio recorder in my hand, my Canon Digital Rebel around my neck, and a reporter's pad and pen.
"I'm sorry, but he doesn't do press," a lady, who sat next to McGruder, said before I could move my lips to even begin introducing myself or ask McGruder for a few minutes of his time.
"I only want to ask a couple of questions," I uttered sternly, halfway stuttering.
McGruder lifts his head after scribbling his signature on the inside cover page of a Boondocks comic strip book, looks directly at me and says, "I'm sorry, man. Nothing against you, I just don't do press."
If I was a dog, my tail would have stopped wagging and I would have limped away with my tail between my legs. I had held out hope. But at least I'd heard it from the horse's mouth.
Now, what will I make of the reporting that I've already done?
Labels: inspiration, Job survival
continue...Thursday, April 19, 2007
Two Days Ago...
The tears stinging the back of my eyes felt too familiar. And so did the urge to repress any expression of emotion.I exhaled silently, blinked, and focused back on the computer screen in front of me. I have a job to do. I have to write. And I'm on deadline, so I can't get up and leave to call my dad like I did a year and a half ago.
Maybe it's because I'm still a kid. Everyone else in the newsroom seemed so unaffected. Me? I don't have that wall yet. I don't think I ever will. So watching other kids not much younger than me on television, crying, upset, hugging each other and searching desperately for answers hits me. Hard. And it makes it tough to focus.
I got the same feeling in my gut watching people who looked like me wading through waist-high water, clinging to their only remaining possessions and asking if someone, anyone, knew where there loved ones were, praying that their lives hadn't floated away.
That time I wasn't on deadline. And so I left. Left the newsroom, left the buzz of covering a national tragedy, left the need to be "objective" and "clear-thinking." I left, called my dad, and let the tears out.
This isn't for me, I told him. I can't do this. Yeah, there's an allure for working in a national news operation, but damn. At what price? Every national tragedy becomes your life for eight hours or more for each day that it's in the news.
I told him it feels like too much to watch other people suffer, and to know that the only thing you can do about it... is tell other people that they're suffering.
I don't know if I'm made for this, I said.
But he told me I am. And everyone knows I trust my daddy's word.
So I as I sat there again, fighting maintain my composure, I reminded myself of what he said to me a year and half earlier:
"Yes, you're a journalist. But you're a human first.
"And that's okay."
Many news organizations offer help for employees coping with tragedy, whether they're on a personal or national scale. Contact your human resources department to find out how what kind of assistance is available to you.
Labels: Job survival
continue...Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Jockeying for Position
A coworker of mine is leaving our bureau and heading south - sort of. He's heading downstairs to the main newsroom to handle business. As a result, the four remaining reporters left here, in the second most widely circulated section at my paper, have to pick up his slack because they aren't hiring anybody to take his place.Of course.
For weeks after the announcement was made, we hemmed and hawed, complained and blamed about the situation we'd be left in. In addition to covering our municipalities (some of which are the largest in the state behind Providence), we'd have to split his beat up and each of us would have a sliver of it to cover until we got a replacement.
If we ever get one.
Anyway, my coworkers and I speculated about how the beats would be divided. Would one person cover all of his city? Would they give all of the schools to one of us? What about the courts? And the airport?
As they gossiped, I sat at my desk, silently dreading the thought of getting saddled with another city hall or sewer authority to cover. I know it's the meat and potatoes of the newspaper, but if I had a choice, I'd be out of municipal coverage all together. The only thing about my departing colleague's beat that I'd be even remotely interested in is the courts beat. I was mentioning this to some friends and they suggested I head my boss off at the pass.
Go for the beat I want instead of waiting to see what beat I got stuck with.
Initially, I balked at the idea. I mean, wouldn't that make it seem that I'm not a team player? That I'm not willing to go with the flow? But then, I started thinking about the alternatives -- like getting stuck with another city council or sewer department to cover.
I needed to act.
"I know that with [my coworker] gone, we'll all have to pick up the slack to make sure we don't miss any news and to keep things running smoothly around here," I said to my boss as I sat in her office. "I'd just like to offer to take the courthouse, since I like public safety and it is, after all, in my town."
I braced for the verbal lashing.
"That sounds great," my boss said. "I really appreciate it because with [my coworker] gone, we'll all have to make changes. I have to figure out how this will all work, but it's good to know I can scratch that off of my list of things to reassign."
I sat there for a minute stunned. It really wasn't that easy, was it?
Guess that old saying is true: "ask and you shall receive."
Labels: Job survival, office politics
continue...Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Uncomfortable situations
I often wonder sometimes what managers are thinking when they interact with staffers.A manager came up to me and we started discussing a court case I may be following over the next few months. Problem is that the next step - the arraignment - happens on a day that I had previously scheduled a news feature event that I needed to attend.
As we talked about my options and whether I really needed to go to the court that day, the manager let this come out of her mouth:
"Do you think [a coworker] could handle this?"
Now, the words themselves seem innocuous enough, but taken into context of the way I've seen this manager deal with this coworker, I heard it as an assessment of my co-worker's skill level.
It wasn't, "do you think we can hand this off to your coworker." It was "do you think your coworker is competent enough to do this instead of you?"
What do you say to that? I stuttered and stammered as I grasped for an answer.
"I'm sure [my coworker] could," I said, thinking to myself how horrible it would be to be the subject of this conversation. "[My coworker] is a reporter and can cover this like anyone else can."
The manager didn't seem convinced. To tell the truth, I'm not sure I was either. I told her that I'd find out more information and get back to her about the assignment. The manager said she'd mull it over once she got the additional information and walked back to her office.
I couldn't help feeling a little sleazy after the conversation, though. The manager had to have known this wasn't an appropriate conversation to be having with me - not only a contemporary of the person, but also someone very much my coworker's senior - and yet the conversation happened.
More and more, I find myself and my colleagues placed in these kinds of awkward positions. Public verbal lashings from editors, accusatory statements about our position on the work we do, and attacks on our character have all been lobbed by managers in our newsroom at one point or another. The question - which none of us have been able to find the answer to - is how do you handle it?
Labels: Job survival, office politics
continue...Thursday, March 15, 2007
If You're Hungry, You May be Hated
If you don't know, the Ten95 fam does -- I know nothing about sports. Sure, I know the rules and I actually love playing them, and my dad (the reason I got into this business) is a veteran sportscaster. But when it comes to the goings on in the major, minor and college leagues, and the people who write about them, I have no. knowledge. whatsoever.But an interview on The Big Lead with Sportsline's Mike Freeman managed to capture my attention, temporarily suspending the adult ADD I think I might have. And it's not because he's talking sports. (Well, he does eventually, but I kinda skimmed over that part. Kinda.)
Mike's thoughts on being a young, black and hungry journalist ring familiar to me. Mostly because those three words could be used to accurately describe me. And because the stories he shares are similiar to ones I've heard from peers in the same demographic. Stories about not-so-hungry colleagues spewing resentment because of a difference in work ethic:
Another example I remember is there was a football beat writer who during training camp used to disappear for hours in the middle of the day to go to softball games play golf and then some of the other writers would phone quotes and info to him. Eventually, he got yanked from the beat by his editors. He walked up to me one day and said: “You’re the reason why I’m getting taken off the beat. All that shit you write.” He blamed me for his own laziness. Then a group of other reporters stopped talking to me for a few weeks as some sort of weird punishment. It was like fourth grade.Less confrontational versions of that scene have happened to me. Fellow interns who didn't pull their weight questioned why I landed plum assignments (well, for an intern, at least) -- and then proceeded to tell others, "Veronica doesn't do sh-t.")
Others, who've felt some sense of entitlement because of where they went to school, have whined about not getting a job, and questioned me as how I landed employment. And not in an advice-seeking manner. More so, they ask in an incredulous tone, "How did you get that?"
The short answer: I work hard. But I've found that not everyone carries that same philosophy when it comes to their job.
An old saying goes that there will always be someone hungrier than you. The flip side is that there will always be someone not nearly as hungry, and they'll try to trip you up for it. Whether it's overt (as in Mike's case) or not (in my case... so far), I've already learned that thriving in this business is not just about clocking in long hours or tracking down the right source. It's also about bracing yourself against people ready to pull you down -- and excelling so they have a reason to hate you even more.
Labels: Job survival
continue...Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Spur Your Enthusiasm
It's 4:35 in the morning. I'm yawning, my eyes are drooping, and I'm combing over my work to replace any letters or words I may have inadvertantly dropped as a result of my sleepiness.It's at this point when I start giving myself mental pep talks. Because I need to wake up. Because I need to do my job well. And mostly... because I have to depend on myself for most of my encouragement.
It's not to say that the people that I work with don't offer any support. But I've noticed that there's a generation gap, and that one's enthusiasm may be determined by which side of the gap one is on.
Years in the business have worn down some of my co-workers. They can be jaded. Unaffected. Sometimes cynical. And for a few, the job has become just that -- merely a job. Sometimes -- or often times, depending on who it is -- they complain; about hours, fellow staffers, vacation time; about how their job is interfering with their marriage, kids, health or any other myriad of things.
It's a different story for me. I'm the youngest in the newsroom. I have no kids, no spouse, no family responsibilities. And I constantly remind myself how blessed I am to be here just a year and a half out of school. So there are times when I want to jump on top of a desk and shout -- like Hakeem in Coming to America -- "I am very happy to be here!"
(At the risk, of course, of having people question my sanity.)
Where some see a burden, I see nothing but opportunity. The challenge now is making the most of that opportunity. And to do that, I have to hold on the enthusiasm I came in with -- even at 4:35 a.m. -- despite any apathy or dissention that may sit in a desk nearby. Why? Because the stakes are different for me.
I'm just getting started.
What do you to maintain your enthusiasm?
Labels: Job survival
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