If you can't say something nice...

The good news is that my long-term to-do list is getting shorter. Slowly.

The bad news is that what I have left is the projects that are the most difficult and the most involved.

Take my trash story, for instance. I had a hard time blogging on our beat's blog about it because some of my sources have been such jerks to me. It also has been an ongoing battle to represent both sides equally in the story. The people with complaints against the system are, of course, being wonderful, because they want their voices to be heard. The administrative people that I've interviewed so far have gotten angry at me on the phone for a) presuming to write a story about the subject and b) reading them things that people have said and asking for comments. One source in particular accused me of deceiving him to get an interview, and telling him that the story was "for a class" (and not for publication), which is completely untrue. When sources pick up the phone and say, "hello?" I say "Hi, this is Rebekah Heil at the Columbia Missourian." I don't think I could have been more clear. I don't think any of us even wanted to say it was "for a class" when we were in J2100.

I don't know how to make it plain to people that I'm not on a side here. I hope they get their issues resolved, but I'm just doing my job.

I also don't know how to give both sides the same amount of face time (or if I should) when half of my quotes from people in leadership positions are them being angry at me.

An update

With everything winding down, I am still pushing to finish up the shells project. This has been a long process and not an easy one. After all the work this group (the class) has put into these projects this semester it would be a shame to have it go to waste.
Unfortunately I haven't heard the plan to keep these two sites up and running in the future.
Will there be a shells beat at the Missourian? A projects class?
I also find myself wondering when the new site will be up. From what I have heard, the technology and interactivity of loading the site will be a great help to our projects.

Anyway, to the week. I had two stories this week, although I was more of a supervisor on the second - the very important school board meeting. Both of these were different deadline experiences.
On Tuesday, before the listening session there wasnt much opportunity to write a skeleton. I could just write one boiler plate paragraph that talked about the failed school tax levy and the board hadnt done this before.
On Thursday there was much more opportunity but it was still a difficult write thru because the meeting ran so long and there was so much information.

My Exhale

It took a couple days longer than I wanted it to, but I finally will be in the position to work on one story the rest of the semester (I think) after tomorrow. The shells project continues to be both fun and frustrating, but such is the life of reporting.

I think when it's all said and done, the green shell will end up functioning pretty well. We have a variety of topics to cover and have left room for many more story updates in the future. Will we foster the conversation we so desperately desire? That remains to be seen, and it will be a challenge that cannot be solved in a week's or a month's time.

For sheer work done on the project, however, I think our group should be very proud. We were able to flesh out a lot of ideas and we functioned well even though the group size was small. Everyone has been doing their part and working hard. Here's to hoping it pays off.

As I said before, I hope to get a longer story written by the end of the next couple of weeks; the little stories that need to be written and the other little challenges in life have been making it a tough go. But there is still time. Not a lot, but enough.

(NotReporting)

I would just like to know why we haven't been taught to be optimistic about our future careers.

We are bombarded with "the coming death of journalism" on a regular basis. In the news and in the classrooms. After a few months, we've learned, and the lack of our future comes up in casual conversation. The message is: Embrace change for the sake of change, or you won't make it in the last 40 years this industry has left.

Sometimes I feel starved. I am starved for adverbs and grammatically complex sentences. I am starved for working computers, breathing room and the promise of certainty — as opposed to the constant reminder that this trade is all about to disappear.

The way people talk at the non-journalism internship I took for the summer is itself satiating . The language they use to describe the future is so incredibly different than what I'm accustomed to.

"You'll have no trouble finding a job," is some of the highest praise I've received at the Missourian. Compare that to:
"You will have so many opportunities after this. This opens doors."

Really, the mentors are saying the same thing. Things will be easier if you work hard. But the language is different. It's taken a toll on me. My dreams are less lofty. Whenever I hear that someone has a newspaper job, regardless of where it is, I'm in awe.

Before I came here, if a former BigManPublisher had sat me down and told me that I was making a mistake, I would have asked for proof, justification and statements of his last newspaper's profits. This year, I just nodded and listened.

The way we talk about our future affects how we perceive it. And if students are told again and again that there just aren't the options there were, should we be surprised if many journalism careers end upon graduation?

I know we need to be strong and prepared for a smaller job market. I know we can't hide our heads in the sand. But I would like to say:

1. Do liberal arts colleges repeat constantly the difficulties of getting a job with a BA in reading?
2. Optimism breeds creativity which encourages innovation. Pessimism discourages it.

PROGRESS REPORT: A lot of phone calls. Few responses. I'm trying. I've asked for something else to work on so that I can do more than waiting to call again.

Decisions

This is a small glimpse of my love/hate relationship with journalism.
Frequently, I've questioned my decision to become a reporter. My first few years in the black press showed me unlimited options for doing what I love.
More recently, I have hated to write, I don't like calling people and I feel cheated out of a senior year. Every day I feel more pressured to conform to a world that I'd rather choose not to and it makes me question my decision.
On one hand, I feel that graduating from the Missouri School of Journalism means that I can be expected to automatically do any job required of me in any newsroom - but this is clearly not the case.
It doesn't help that my relationships with editors here have been strained, and I can't really say I've met any great new people in the newsroom.
Nonetheless, I've enjoyed every internship and newspaper experience I've ever had...
Is it because I don't feel constantly pulled in a million directions by a million different things?
Is it because I haven't found anyone in the Missourian to identify with that I feel so isolated?
And the more people I meet, the more people I find are generally no longer interested in this career path.
Furthermore,
What is it about the MU experience that has made three of the only four black people in news editorial hate reporting?
Should I stay in this field because from what I see the number of black people interested in news papers continues to drop?
More specifically, those who more adequately represent my class and my experiences seem to be non-existent.
Or... well, I don't know!
What I do know is these next few months will determine a lot for me. I hope and pray my experience at the Register will again remind me of the passion I have for this craft. If not, maybe graduate school will do the trick.
Who knows.
One thing I can say though, is that you never forget your first love. Journalism will always have a special place in my heart.

Passionate about passionate people

I walked into the newsroom yesterday carrying a few little pieces of woody grass, Big Blue Indian grass to be specific. I had just returned from a trip to MU's Bradford Farm. The farm's superintendent and a bioenergy engineer showed me what they've been working on and I've been talking about.

I didn't anticipate the passionate dialogue that ensued. I'd ask a question and they'd both have an answer, then play off what the other said and then add something I hadn't thought to ask. I realized these two men have incredible passion for growing warm season grasses and its potential for bioenergy. They also had foresight and curiosity. I left with an adrenaline rush. I was high on reporting.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. I am passionate about passionate people. Passion is an emotion that rubs off on those around you. It shines through your eyes, fingertips and body language. It livens up the body. It excites the brain. When you take a genuine interest in someone's passions, it shows. It's the highest compliment you can give someone. I got the feeling these two men could talk about warm season grasses and farming for hours. I could listen for hours. Their passion was intoxicating.

People ask me where I've been this semester. I've been at the Missourian, I say. The scripted and typical response is "I've heard that really takes up a lot of your time and that a lot of people don't like it. Do you like it?" In some variation that's always the question and I feel like people expect a negative response. They want me to tell them I hate it. But I like it. Yes, it's stressful and it takes up a lot of time. But really, what else would I be doing? Where else would I be? Probably whining to a friend over coffee about how I yearn to be reporting.

Exhale

This week, I took a step back. Life, I've realized, is a bit too short to be stressing out all the time, so I just kind of chilled out. And you know what? I think I deserved it...and everyone else here does too.

Unfortunately, it turns out that I also have other classes. Due to my neglect, the notion of me graduating in May is just that at the moment...a notion. My grades in at least two classes are hideous, and in one - taught by a man who sincerely seems to dislike me - I'll quite literally be begging for a D.

At least I got to relax for a bit.


Progress Report: As I said, I didn't do much this week. The baseball team is out of town, so I worked on my other classes, a couple of feature stories, and finished up what I was doing on the shells project.

Next week will be different. I have a grocery shopping date with one of Missouri's pitchers, whom I will be doing a story on, focusing on his weight. I also have the Mizzou/Kansas baseball game in KC to attend, as well as a weekend slate of games in which my father will be attending. Pure excitement.

Archaeology, Stinky Pipes, and Tony Bennett

When Tom asked me to “make sewers sexy” for our shells project, I was sure it wouldn’t be too much work. I figured I could simply collect a few quotes, use a few vivid words here and there, and I’d wind up with a spicier-than-average city government story…so that’s what I did.

But oh! I was so, so wrong. I failed to see the sexy sewer story for what it was: an opportunity to depart from writing run-of-the-mill articles filled with jargon-ridden quotes and dry analysis of information. Sure, the information’s important, but if you can’t step outside the box to present it, you’ll ever engage a typical reader who, with a million things to do every day, doesn’t give a hoot about a bunch of pipes buried in the dirt. This piece is web-only, and it’ll be presented in a format unlike anything the Missouri’s ever tried before. In short, I had a big, fat, juicy opportunity in front of me to break all the rules.

I’ll admit. I was frustrated, initially, when Tom suggested a re-write. Nevertheless, I re-tooled my approach, deciding to write this like a smartass timeline about sewers. The idea was to covertly give readers information by packaging it in an entertaining way.

As I got going, I realized I was having FUN. I was Googling all sorts of outrageous sewer trivia, shouting out bits and pieces to the back half of the newsroom every five minutes. Yeah. Sewer trivia — I’m pretty sure the reporters around me thought I was going insane. The point I’m trying to get at is this: the “hard news” in any story is definitely crucial, and sometimes, you just need to deliver that hard news. But when you’ve got a boring topic (not that sewers are boring, but I’m sure many would beg to differ), write about the stuff that you find interesting. Write about the fact that Elvis died on a toilet. Then, sneak the hard news in.

I sincerely hope I get to write more articles like this one in my journalism career. Heck…I got to write the line “Woohoo! Pooping in a hole.” Yeah.

PROGRESS REPORT:
The Fairfield Gorget story came out on Saturday. Never in my life have I received so much kudos for one story, and I almost feel guilty. The story was, though it took effort to pair down, just waiting to be told. I was just the one who lucked into finding it. As of yesterday, it was the Missourian’s most read article on the Web. I am, hands down, prouder of this story than any I’ve written before.

I wrote a story about Tony Bennett coming to town this week…and learned that even Advanced Reporters need a little wrist slapping now and then. Liz caught some of my errors, which came about because I was frenzied trying to write the article before sprinting to class. But haphazardness is never acceptable, and I needed a reminder of that fact.

And, of course, I (re)wrote about sewers. And throwing pots of sewage into the streets in the middle ages. And the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Cowabunga, dude.

:/

I called the superintendent and asked her if the rumors were true, that she was looking for another job.

I wrote about the ramifications of Columbia not passing a tax levy, and what could happen next.

And then I sat down, to blog about it on the SchoolHouse Talk blog, and...

Had nothing. There was nothing new to add to the issue.

Sometimes I feel like I'm just retelling the same story. Others, I have a weird postpartum depression about the tax levy election. Both are a sign that it's all done and over with. It is TIME TO MOVE ON. But wait, this very petulant part of me says, there was so much I wanted to do while it was happening that I never did.

And that stupid (it is stupid) fixation on the so-called good ideas I never executed is all ego.

I'm reading a book of essays on writing, and one of the author's main points is to take ego out. Don't get attached to what you think is eloquent, cleverly worded, or beautiful prose.
More generally, don't get attached to small things because you think you did them well — you'll miss the bigger THING.

That's my lesson for the week. My to-do list, really.

PROGRESS REPORT:
I'm learning to write about people. It happened two weeks ago, last week, and lo and behold, my next assignment is to talk to people. I'm excited as a student and reporter.

Conundrum:
Last week, I turned in an Econometrics (the economics major equivalent of Advanced Reporting) homework set that I did not finish. I tried — I kept working on it up until the 11 a.m. Wednesday class...

I have never, in the history of my college career, turned in something unfinished. It was disrespectful to my professor and embarrassing.

I have written explanation letters before:
"Dear Prof. So and so, I am writing to explain, not excuse, my absence on Month, Day. I had to write about Something."

The UnfinishedHomework was the result of staying the entirety of Tuesday at the Missourian working on an article. It has me thinking: on the one hand, I'm here to stretch myself, prove that I can fit 40 hours into a day, perform under pressure, find bravery in the eleventh hour. On the other, I'm here to pursue my passions. Yes, one of those is economics.

I'm not sure which is worse: doing B-work in this class and others, or getting an A in this class and not a B in its economics equivalent.
Or, getting an A in economics, an A in the beat reporting component and a non-A in the shell component of this class.
I guess it comes down to which way I want to prioritize: selfishly or not.

Through another lens

At Earth Day this week, I took a few pictures for the shells site while looking for a few extra sources or potential profiles. What I found, however, was a different perpective. I enjoy covering large events. And the Earth Day celebration is one of the my favorite events of the year. So when I went out there with an SLR, I had to look at things differently. I wasn't looking for sources, for people who knew what they were talking about. I was looking for action and interaction.

I took a few photo classes in high school and haven't really worked with a camera since then. But, like riding a bike, it's not something you forget really easily. Finding a focus, getting a different angle, framing the shot were three lessons that teacher drummed into his class. Most of the photos I took for that class were not of the type I was taking on Sunday. They were inanimate, artsy. While taking photos at Earth Day I realized you don't lose the artsyness while taking photos for the paper. It's all the more important. If the shot doesn't have a strong focus, events like Earth Day look like a chaotic mess on film. There are so many people, so many colors, so much movement.

I'm lucky I was really just focusing on taking pictures of the people we talked to. One of the guys I spent some time talking to and will make a profile of was in a booth discussing solar water heaters. He had serveal of the cells on display in a corner. They were a deep purplish color and looked like something from outer space. A gentleman from Quincy, Ill., who was visiting his daughter at MU was asking several intense questions about them. I used the solar panels to frame the photo of the two men talking. I'm proud of this photo and am looking forward to using it on the site.

I have a renewed appreciation for photographers and their jobs. I'm no where near a photo major in skill, but I'm not half-bad. I flexed a few different mental muscles. I had a damn good time. And I think it's a worthy hobby.

Late, but for a reason.

I'm in the middle of some four story projects, but the three that I worked on this week are some of the most frustrating of my short journalistic career.

The Earth Day video still isn't up because I spent the entire day troubleshooting. It's done, but something weird happened with the format. So that is on my list of things to do today.

The trash story has a lot of conflict, but I don't know how to make it more than a "he said, she said" type of thing. They're all really angry.

Saturday I went to the Republican 9th District Convention and it was the biggest shit show I have ever seen. Going in, I knew that there would be conflict - I had been speaking to Ron Paul supporters and they had informed me that they were going to turn out in large numbers to try and elect Ron Paul supporters to the state convention, and eventually change party policy so that Missouri would be a proportional state instead of a winner-take-all state in terms of delegates. This would mean that Ron Paul would get 30 or so delegates from Missouri. The movement is nationwide, apparently.

Anyway, the Ron Paul people showed up and were voted down in everything fair and square, but they basically weren't allowed to talk. The guy in charge used parliamentary procedure as an excuse to rule them "out of order" any time they tried to speak. But it wasn't just then. Delegates were ruled out of order when they asked for 15 minutes to read the rules that they were about to approve by voting.

A woman expressed concern that she was about to vote on amendments from the 25 represented counties to go to the state convention, when she hadn't seen or read them. This came right after the group had voted down having a group read-through of the amendments. She was ruled out of order. God forbid anyone see what is actually in those amendments.

I was shocked and disgusted, and sooo frustrated. I got back and vented to Bowers, who was an amazing neutralizing force (read: he let me vent for like, ten minutes), and who helped me figure out how to write the lede.

When the story was published, some of it had to be cut and I still didn't feel like I had demonstrated exactly how outrageous the situation was. But I guess that's why we have blogs.

When mouths run faster than brains

This post is a day late, but that may have worked out for the best. My week was rather uneventful anyway. Saturday night, however, was not.

As long as I can remember, I've been attention starved. Though I wouldn't equate it to a "look-at-me" type attitude, I have become something of a showman, and I tend to use my mouth and whatever wit I possess to garner whatever notice I can. For better or worse, I've been fairly successful with it. I'm always the one joking around, spewing one-liners, sarcasm, and busting the whatevers of my friends. It almost always elicits a laugh.

Saturday night, it didn't.

The back story is longer than anyone cares to hear about, so I'll just say I came into the newsroom that evening in a bit of a hurry, looking to have a story read that I thought to be going in the Sunday paper, a story that I'd poured literally dozens of hours and three rewrites into.

Upon informing my editor that said story was done and asking him to read it, he countered by saying that he'd read it tomorrowish (turns out the story got moved back to Monday). At 7 o'clock, it is likely he had other things that took priority. I recognize this.

Unfortunately, as I have mentioned, I also have a fairly active mouth. I haven't a bit of malice in my body, but I certainly do like to talk. Given the rejection, I immediately moved into "sarcastic busting-of-chops" mode, challenging him on why he couldn't read it, and eliciting some somewhat real disappointment. All of this, I can assure you, was done in jest...I didn't even think twice about it. Unfortunately, it did not come off in any reasonable facsimile of the way I had intended it. I no doubt came off as a self-absorbed, inconsiderate smartass, and one that doesn't respect authority to boot.

For my transgression, which my editor took as not only a blatant attitude problem, but also a measure of personal disrespect, I received an ear-full. Taken aback as I was by the situation, I was exceptionally apologetic, though I was also somewhat defensive, offering that I certainly meant nothing by it. After all, I've displayed that same brand of sarcasm many times before, only to receive the same brand back.

None of this, however, gets to the point. While the Missourian has taught me how to be a journalist, and my parents have taught me to be respectful, no one has seemingly been able to drill it through my head that there is both a time and a place for my antics, no matter how good natured they may be. Eventually, as it did Saturday, something is going to come off wrong. More than comma usage, reigning in my personality figures to be one of my greatest challenges when working in a professional environment.

Anyway, to Greg, again, I'm sorry. From now on, I hope I can stick to botching punctuation instead of my relationships within the office.

PROGRESS REPORT: The baseball team is out of town. Though simple, I'm not sure I've ever read a more beautiful sentence. In their absence, I hope to pen at least a feature or two, while also catching up on sleep, money, and my life. This week I only had two stories in the paper, one in which I may have timed incorrectly, and another that just wasn't very exciting. Hopefully my break will recharge me a bit, and an uptick in work quality will follow.

It's a good time, really.

As I walked into the Missourian after my leisurely lunch , one of the 4450 reporters said, "Wow, you weren't here for an hour." I've spent a lot of time here this week, finishing up a draft of a longer story, working on organizing my shells information and writing the my shells stuff. I've spent a couple of late nights and had a few early mornings. And another friend of mine told me that when I talk about the Missourian, I always sound really excited (unless it's copy editing). The truth is, I am excited. I like working here. I know there are plenty of people who don't and plenty of people who don't understand this job. My brain works completely differently when I'm reporting or writing than it does when I'm doing classwork. Switching from classroom mode to reporting mode is really hard and that's why the Missourian can be so exhausting, not to mention stressful. Class disrupts my flow, keeps me from getting in the zone, or whatever you want to call it. Moral of the story: I've been here a lot and I don't hate it. I think that's a good sign, but it makes deciding what to do after graduation difficult. I've been trying to decide if I want to go to grad school or get a job. I change my mind every week. Today I'm leaning towards a job. But that will probably change a few million times.

On another note, it's really nice to have a back-out schedule. For me, being able to look in one place and see everything that needs to be done and when it should be done is a relief. I feel so much more on top of things. If we had created this two weeks ago, it might have relieved some of the subconscious stress of knowing you had to do something but not knowing when it had to be done by. Now it's down to the wire, and I hope everyone can pull through. I think the product will turn out really well. Another great thing about this schedule: everything is done they day before I go out of town for a friend's wedding. I will be able to enjoy the reception so much more knowing that no matter how much champagne I drink, I don't have a shell story to do tomorrow.

Priorities

I don't think laziness is the correct word for my work on shells, but I think it simply has been pushed back by myself (and others) because we view ourselves as reporters first and this as a "class" assignment. Having the Missourian mentality, I work on my stories first and classwork second, and the shells work has fallen into the classwork category.
At the same time that I have been falling behind on my shells work, I think I have been doing a good job reporting and allocating my time and effort at the paper.
With the shells schedule finalized, hopefully we can all wrap up this work and have something to be proud of.

So FB is real!!

This Missouri Civil Rights Initiative issue has really picked up. I first learned about it several weeks ago during a casual conversation with a friend. She told me that it would affect the scholarships of minorities and being on the higher education beat, I thought this would be something worth writing about.
The friend who I spoke of is over a FB group called Vote No for MoCRI (or something like that), and she invited me to the group to find out more information. I told her from the beginning I was interested in covering it for the Missourian. The group takes you directly to the MoCRI site and there was my first introduction to it.
Several weeks and several stories later, it was brought to my attention that I was still a part of the group. I thought nothing of it because I learn of all the campus events pertaining to this issue by being a a part of the group. (If you join a group you automatically get the e-mails and event messages sent out by that group.)
However, it slipped my mind that that the MoCRI group I joined said "vote no" in the title. It also slipped my mind that someone would actually be monitoring my actions as a journalist... on FACEBOOK!! (I know we talk about it in class, but seriously.)
FB is not even real to me; however, I definitely see how as a journalist it could cause a problem. So I am happy I am learning this lesson now, rather than later. Nonetheless, I can't say I didn't feel important that people are checking up on my activities in that manner. I must be doing a pretty good job. or making somebody upset... same thing.

This post could use a steak...

I edited the proofs for my Saturday cover story today.

As soon as I saw the cover, my jaw dropped a little. I’d had this vision in my head of what I expected it to look like, knowing full well that the final product would have a totally different design (that I was sure I’d love all the same.)

Nope. This thing looked eerily like what I had in mind, down to the placement of the Fairfield Gorget on the cover. The color scheme was even the same as the one I’d nebulously come up with on my own. Sure, I’ve done a lot of work from the production side of the desk, so I know how design works. But man, this bordered on spooky.

The “dream cover” seemed like a fitting conclusion to the creative process. As far as I know, I’m done. I’ve handed the reins over to the printer now, and it feels like everything’s so neatly wrapped up — so tidy, and so satisfying. The design looks fantastic. The story made it through the copy desk with blissfully minimal intervention. The pull quotes are perfect. The editing process with Liz was painless and extremely constructive. Her input helped streamline the copy tremendously, and she really helped me hammer out the kinks in the narrative. More than that, though, she forced me to cut through all the fat and marbled meat clinging to the edges of my story so I could find that nice, juicy steak. The steak was always there, but I couldn’t have found it without Liz’s advice and guidance. At least…it would’ve taken me a LOT longer.

So many times, stories start out vague. You’ll have a behemoth topic to tackle, a cumbersome story with too many twists and turns to navigate, or you’ll start pulling on a yarn to tell and you’ll realize the yarn just keeps going, and going, and going. And sometimes, the story’s so straightforward it’s impossible to write…like you can’t really capture what’s happening without looking at things from a different angle.

I wouldn’t be surprised if most of us experienced this exercise in high school or middle school: your English teacher gives you a minute or two to observe the classroom from your seat and tells you to write about it. Then, she’ll have you stand on top of your desks, or sprawl out on the floor, and you’re tasked with writing a new description from a new point of view.

For me, Advanced Reporting has been a multi-month saga of standing atop desks and sprawling out on floors. With our brilliant class, with the topics I’ve written about, with web shells, and with the critical thinking I’ve been expected to do on a regular basis, I’ve learned how to change perspective. And I think I’ve grown tremendously as a writer. I think we all probably have.

(You wouldn’t know it reading today’s blog, though, would you? I’ve got to get off this rambling blog kick.)

PROGRESS REPORT:
I spent most of this week editing proofs, fleshing out captions for the cover story, and generally getting all those ducks in a row. Tuesday, when I came into the newsroom to work with Kate on my web shell sewer story (thanks for helping me out, by the way, Kate!), Liz asked if I could write a brief on an event at the museum that linked in with the Saturday story. I had about half an hour but managed to knock it out. I had enough “stuff” that we decided to hold it, flesh it out and run it Thursday. Tomorrow, I’m getting started on a story breaking down historic theatres across the country that have undergone renovations. I’ll be linking that in with the Missouri Theatre — common obstacles, where the money went, how long it took to pay of the loans, etc. Should be a decent little read.

Mary Lawrence sent the following around to editors yesterday. It's a pretty cool shell. But DONT FREAK OUT -- I'm not suggesting you look at it to make major changes in our shells. Just continuing sharing, that's all.

Tom



http://www.newsok.com/news/elephantnation

The Oklahoma City zoo is shipping its elephants to Tulsa for breeding. The
Oklahoman put together a great shell with all kinds of stories about
elephants, including a wonderful map of elephants in N. America, their names
and ages -- sort of a little black book of pachyderms.

Enjoy.

The Deep Breath...

It's definitely the home stretch in all facets of life. The stress builds a bit — papers, exams, projects, longer stories that still need work. I was hoping to write this little note on Saturday morning, but I needed to desperately take advantage of the opportunity to recharge for a couple more hours.

Needless to say, the rest of my shells reporting and article-writing needs to get done this week so I can have two weeks to work with graphics/editing to get everything publishable.

Then I get to move on to the last group of stories I want to do before the end of the semester on the beat. Add that in with getting ready for my summer internship and finding a new car, and my head will soon be spinning.

So I've taken this past weekend to prepare before the plunge. And then life speeds up, and it's here. So it's time to see how long I can hold in that deep breath and see if it lasts me through the week. If so, then the remainder of the semester may actually be semi-low-stress. Maybe. Possibly. I hope.

But for now, it's time to get workin'. Maybe Earth Day on Sunday will culminate in a celebration of my work being done and to promote the site to the community.

Let's all wish each other luck.

Awesomeness in the Newsroom!

This semester's Advanced Reporting Class and everyone involved is incredible. I know that we have at least four weeks left, but everything and everyone has been incredible. Everyday has brought something new to my plate as I have had a day turn story turn into a story that takes over a week, but makes the front page of the Sunday Missourian, I've lost sleep trying to find just the right word, and have found that some story that I thought was very important wasn't as important to citizens of Columbia.
I had no idea of what this semester would bring. In truth I had no idea what today would bring. I planned on contacting numerous sources for stories today, but instead cut out more time to attend my beat meeting and plan ahead on another story. Additionally the meeting with Joe from Bright Tree went really well. I was slightly nervous, because most of my preperation took place over phone calls and looking through documents while I was at the airport this weekend. With the Shells everything seems to be going really well. I am really happy to have the opportunity to help out with the shells project. For a couple weeks I don't think I really felt motivated or connected to this project, but I am realizing how important this project is to the Missourian and what a great opportunity it is to work on the shells project. I know that the rest of this semester will be awesome, because we are and awesome group of reporters!

People!

"Remind me to talk to you about people," Liz Brixey said Tuesday as the K-12 beat was running to and from election places to talk to voters.

We never did get to that conversation, but I did talk to many many people Tuesday. Thursday, Friday and Sunday I called more people. I'm pretty sure I know what she wanted to tell me: the beat hasn't been on the ground enough, we haven't spoken to real people enough about their concerns.

I have spoken with community members, ex-school board members and ex-administrators. No one I spoke with had been quoted in a newspaper for at least a year. Several refused to go "on the record."

These were conversations. I had a list of questions to ask, but used them only as a starting point. Every conversation stretched to about an hour about the leadership history of the district.

I'm a young, inexperienced reporter. I'm impressionable. When I talk to administrators, my writing veers towards jargon. When I discuss theory behind student achievement, I unconsciously slip in academese.

But when I talk to people, the writing comes easily and is straightforward.

And they appreciate it. I think we contribute to the image of the school district as an unfeeling unit instead of an organization of teachers and administrators. We call administrators, translate the jargon, pair it with some commentary from well-known district critics or numbers and call it a day.

These conversations have brought an entirely different view of the school district to light. There is a history here, of people. And I do think that the history is newsworthy. It's driving a lot of the action, and it puts Tuesday's tax levy failure into context.

So I'm writing a history/analysis hybrid. If nothing else, it's an excuse to listen to people we and the Tribune stopped calling five years ago.

Lessons from magazines

Throughout my time at the J-School I've been told to read, read, read. And I've been told to read like a writer. I think its also important to think about why you read what you read. I dropped into my brown Katie-sized recliner last night with this month's issue of the The Atlantic magazine. My mind drifted mid-article: I love this magazine. And I sat down again this morning to think about why, for the past two years, I have read every issue nearly cover to cover. The content is divided into two strong sections: current political, national, international news and cultural review and commentary (books, plays, travel, food). The standard of its reporting is depth and context. The writing is analytical, smart and clean. The photography is stunning. But what's fascinating about it is the variety of topics it covers and it's ability to make me read and care about issues incredibly distant from me. Writing about topics that don't directly affect your readers lives requires talent, but to do it well requires also space. When I read quick and brief accounts in newspapers of protests in Tibet, or about elections in Zimbabwe, it's hard to retain. When I read these things in the Atlantic, it gives me the background, history, context. It tells it like a story. I can almost see it. I feel like I am in the know when I read this magazine.

Do I want to write for a magazine? No. But there are lessons that can be adapted. Never, ever assume your reader is up-to-date, following every news item related to your topic even if it's something like the elections, which were throughly covered. With each story, a strong nut graf explaining why this matters and what it will change is crucial. Magazine articles have the luxury of space and can break their nuts down into all the fine parts. In the online news world where readers choose what they read, I feel the rush to get the information online pushes emphasis on this context down. To be clear, I don't think this is a problem at the Missourian. In fact, I'd look at the school board coverage on the levy as a great example of explaining context. I see this as a problem with my hometown newspaper, the Rockford Register Star, and other mid-sized papers removed from the Journalism Epicenter of the World.

Another lesson adapted from the Atlantic or other magazines is sentence structure. Roy Peter Clark wrote about front-heavy sentences (making sure the subject and verb are towards the front of the sentance). Magazines typically follow this structure, it's how they handle the remaining clauses that makes the writing more pleasing and often carries more context and information in a clear way. Here's an early passage from one of my favorite profiles that ran in last July's issue of the Atlantic.

"My introduction to Coben occurred in October 2005, when he and I were among some 150 authors featured at a book fair in New York’s Bryant Park. I was a last-minute addition to the schedule—my publisher was able to get me a slot because another writer canceled—and was thrilled that despite my book’s small print run, about 30 people attended my reading. After I finished, however, I realized that most of them were not there for me but had come early to secure themselves seats to hear Coben, the next writer on the bill." Click here to read the article.

The writing in this piece is fantastic because his use of asides, offsetting them with dashes, which give the reader context when they need it. The amount of information conveyed in these few sentences is powerful. Newspaper writers need to learn how to use a complex structure to increase clarity. Yes, simple sentences work. But variety is the spice of life.

Progress report: I had a really good week last week. I set two small goals: a day turn around story on Monday and a story on the biodiesel bill done by Friday. I did both, and both turned out well. I got a lot of good feedback, including an email from Glen Cameron, a strat. com. professor. This story wasn't a legislation story, it was a history and context story and that was what I liked about it. I'm working on shell stuff and I'm in the final stages of reporting on my Food/Fuel and Energy policy story.

Apathy?

I consider myself a pretty normal college student. I’m probably more versed on local news than most, though no more versed than any other student writing for the Missourian.

When I chipped in with election coverage this week, I couldn’t help but wonder…I voted in this election, but if I hadn’t been at the paper, I don’t really know if I would have bothered. For a die-hard voter, that’s an uncomfortable thing to admit.

But this election didn’t have a tremendous impact on me, individually, other than offering me a chance to blacken in an oval to indicate an opinion.

After all…I don’t pay taxes yet, so the tax-related ballot items wouldn’t have impacted my life very much. As for sewer rate increases: I’m not going to be here after December, so even if the bonds failed and rates went through the roof, it wouldn’t hit my pocketbook too hard. I think education’s important, but had I not needed to know the candidates before I could interview voters, I would have been relatively uninformed on the school board candidates.

I knew nothing whatsoever about the folks running for hospital trustee.

So, essentially, if it weren’t for being at the Missourian (not just reading the Missourian, but actively being in the newsroom), I don’t know if I would have been comfortable voting, period. I wouldn’t have been informed at all and wouldn’t have really had much stake in any of the election outcomes.

I’d still like to think I’d have done a little research on my own and, come election day, would’ve headed to the polls…but even then, I sincerely doubt I’d have known enough about any of the issues (after all, I’m busy and prone to being oblivious on occasion) to confidently cast an informed ballot.

I’d be interested to know if uninformed college students make up an appreciable chunk of the people voting in municipal elections. My gut tells me that the answer’s probably no, but in tight races, how many times do things get decided by people who come out to vote for a single issue and randomly blacken in the rest of the bubbles? How many times to people got to their precinct so they can vote for, say, their City Council rep, and then choose random school board delegates and blindly vote yes or no on tax issues?

It’s something interesting to mull over, I suppose: can apathy actually make an impact?

Boy, was this a pointless blog.

PROGRESS REPORT:
Spent most of this week helping with captions and coordinating efforts to make sure everything for my Saturday cover story on the jaguar gorget is totally ready to go. I fine-tuned my stuff for web shells and am coordinating a progress report (with help from Paul, of course) to sent to Tom, so he has an idea of where growth stands. Other than that, I’m meeting with Liz today to decide what I’ll be working on the next several weeks so I can finish the semester strong.

I stopped at George Plender

I wrote about this in the paper today (Friday), and you can read the story here...:

http://www.columbiamissourian.com/stories/2008/04/11/comment-crows-scoreless-inning-streak-inspires-sea/

...but that's a fairly cheap blog post.


Anyway, here's the deal. A week ago, I thought Missouri pitcher Aaron Crow was going for a record. Why? Because I listened to a tip, researched it online, found a couple of papers that corroborated the tip, and then called the school's sports info director, who also confirmed it as fact.

What did I get out of this? A scoop, of course.

A scoop that was very wrong. The fact that it only went online for about 15 hours during Friday night, and that the KC Star got it wrong the same day with a different guy, and that the Tribune got it wrong just yesterday, still with the same wrong guy, only slightly made me feel better. I was still an idiot, but at least I had company.

By the next afternoon, we had already turned up a couple more people that had longer streaks.

So, anyway, even before Greg Bowers gave me my talking to, I had already learned my lesson. I had not read the signs that I should have to make me wary of publishing such nonsense, I made myself look like a moron, and I didn't make the paper look good, either. To say that I was entirely depressed for the next 24 hours would have been an understatement.


So, anyway, the next day, Saturday, I'm sitting at the baseball game, still moping, still feeling dumb. I've done some extra research on the topic, and by the time Greg had assigned me to figure out what is up with said record, I had already become quite determined to figure out everything that is knowable (is that a word?) about said record.

And so I did.

Over the past week, I have called, emailed, and practically stalked every major applicable sports information organization - Baseball America, Baseball Prospectus, the NCAA, multiple conferences and SID's, ESPN, and so on. I searched...literally...for 5-6 hours a day, each day, combing obscure reference books and online records, in hopes of finding "the record."

I had been embarrassed, and I damn sure intended to do something about it.


Well, long story short, there is no record. The NCAA never kept track (though it is all rather absurd, if you read the actual story). On top of that, no one I talked to knew anything more than I did, and they seemed kind of embarrassed about it themselves. As the week progressed, rather than me emailing them, they started emailing me to see what I'd found out, and one of the publications even mentioned me online (Baseball Prospectus).

Anyway, by the time you have read this, my research will be the most complete and exhaustive effort that - dare I say - has ever been conducted in the history of the world. Ever. The Mizzou SID passed out information last night that will go in everyone's paper today, and they will all be wrong, every paper across the nation that publishes it. Except ours.

Of course, had I not been a dumbass a week ago, this would all be a non-issue. And, for the record, I apologize to all of those that care that I was wrong, and even to those that don't, because it still hurts our credibility.

That said, though I spent far more time than anyone should ever spend doing anything about baseball ever, I must say that I am fairly pleased with how I rebounded. That may change tomorrow, when 20 people send me links to longer streaks, but even that is a good thing. In my story, I mention that I, essentially, know nothing. The more information we can get, the better.


For the record, the longest scoreless innings streak that I found was by former Vermont Catamount George Plender in 1954-1955. He is my greatest journalistic achievement yet.

The top story on NYTimes.com is a blog post.

I just thought it was an interesting development. The post is actually a live blog of a senate hearing (where the author writes small posts as things happen at an event). What do you guys think about having a blog post as the top story (on the New York Times!)?

I think it's kind of cool. Since it's not an opinion blog, I'm glad to have this information front and center (and have no doubts that they will change it as soon as they get copy slapped together, hence the screen shot).

Busy Schedule

It's been another exhilarating week in the newsroom. The next 2-3 weeks for us will make the end of the semester come even quicker, and for us graduating seniors we might have so much work that we don't know where to begin. I am told making a list is what is best when you have a lot to do, and I am going to make my list here, and other reporters lists will probably closely correspond

1. City Council meeting- covering the Monday night council meeting
   
2. Editing portfolio- my bi-semester conference with Maggie about my editing class
   
3. Advanced reporting shell information- hopefully finished by mid-week
4. Centerpiece Friday- a story about the Guitar house being torn down
   
5. Capstone portfolio- the compilation of the best work I have done while writing and editing in college for next Monday
   
6. Final project- My 20-page paper for my capstone class, due in two weeks

This is probably not the most interesting post for anyone to read, but I suggest other people make a list, whether for this blog or not, to identify what they need to finish and what order to take on each assignment. Also, it can help you tell you editor why you may need a light workload for a few days or a week.

This is the end,
My only friend, the end

GET BUSY!

NY Times article on bloggers death

I thought this article was worth pointing out. Any comments are welcome.

If you click on the title you can read the article.

Tuition, Tumult, Too Much?

I can't help but smirk about it now. Not a happy smirk, mind you, but more of a wry, comprehending smile where your lip curls slightly and where you're thoughtful enough not to let your teeth show.

Tom gave us all that advice about staying out of stress, and how spring break was going to provide a much-needed respite from the rigors of the newsroom (and the rigmarole that sources sometimes give you).

I got a break from the newsroom, that's for sure. But I'd have gladly given it back to keep the headache from what someone did to my vehicle on the highway (and, in the chain reaction that followed, several others) on the way home for the week off.

You can imagine the frustrations that were compiled during that week. Phone calls abound with the insurance company. Finding out exactly what the heck went on. (My brother was taken away in an ambulance rather soon after the accident — thankfully no bones were broken —and I went with him instead of gathering information.

Flash forward to just yesterday, when I was at the UM Curators meeting down in Rolla. I'm busy enough, getting up at 5:45 to get to the meeting on time. I'm writing multiple stories to be possibly used for online and print. Then I get a call telling me the person at fault has no insurance, to the best of everyone's knowledge thus far. (The story is too complicated to explain, and I'd rather not for potential court statements I'd have to give if things go that far.)

I wanted to be mad. But I was there, in the middle of a meeting with all the UM administration talking about voting on tuition increases. What could I do? 

I couldn't help but smirk. Not a happy smirk, mind you, but more of a bite-your-lip positioning of your mouth to keep those frustrated feelings inside.

Just over two weeks ago, I was thinking about how I could get away from all the stress. In some cruel twist of fate, the stress level has tripled. And forget about all the car issues, including finding a new permanent vehicle — there's five weeks of the semester left, and I have papers to write, shells articles to finish that I thought I could do over spring break, and a long-term story that I want to write but won't write itself.

I kind of want to run away and hide. But I've shouldered such stress for two weeks, and I think I can make it the rest of the way. besides, a summer in Miami awaits with the Dow Jones program, so that's definitely something to look forward to.

But for now? You've got to just grow up and realize that it could still be much worse, and that the important things in life are still there.

Still, though, I take it all in, still, with a smirk. Not a happy smirk, mind you, but more of an expression of realization that you've vented a little bit, and that it's a way to, for the moment and for the better until mid-May, shut up, grow up, and move on — for now.

 

Take a deep breath on Monday, Remember Life is Awesome Tuesday, and Change the World as a Journalist starting Wednesday!

Things are looking up. For the first half of this semester I have been stressing about being a good journlist, leader, and ensuring that I have a future after Missouri and the J-School, and even after I found out that I would be working for the Oakland Tribune this summer and participating in AmeriCorps in the fall I still felt like I hadn’t done enough.
Also, being here over spring break was good, because I did get and article and a brief, but I wonder if time away would have been better for me.
The main point is that things are going well both intellectually and emotionally, which on some level I don’t know how much you can separate. My boss in London, Denise Parkinson, once said “Your emotions are your intelligence.” I believe this is very true. I realize when I am happy and energetic about my work a lot more gets done.
I am very excited about a story I am currently working on. I wasn’t very excited about the story when I first started, but I know feel like great things will come from this story. I actually have realtors calling me to showcase property that they have outside of Columbia! After just a few phone calls its like the information just fell into my lap.
Next week is going to be so crazy though. My plan is to eat, breath, and sleep Columbia elections from Monday night through Wednesday morning! It’s going to be awesome!
I must say I also enjoyed the discussion on race coverage in the Missourian. I think that more discussions about identity and privelege should be discussed in the news room.
Often it seems like sociological issus are grouped under political issues, which I would agree they are political issues, but I personally believe that valuing these discussions as political discussions often emphasizes a more masculine “hard hitting” angle on journalism, and devalues concepts of group identity and social constructs and often praises the status quo. And we all know that journalism has a propensity to perpetuate the status quo.
Beyond that like is awesome and I am very interested to see where my article ends up!

Jobs. Stories. Green stuff.

Yesterday something really important happened, for a lot of reasons, and I don't know how it's going to turn out. It was my last day working at MC Sports, which means that I have one more paycheck coming from them but also more time to spend at school. It's getting really hard to figure out how to pay rent and spend as much time on projects as I would like to, and quitting one of my jobs probably won't help, but at least my grades will be better (right?). I guess I will find out if this was a stupid move or not.

On a lighter note, I spent a lot of last week and part of this week working on today's Second Front story, the profile of Mark Buhrmester. I've received a lot of compliments, which is reassuring. I was a little worried that the story didn't seem objective - I had never spoken to Mark before the story, but it's hard to write a profile about someone who's doing something cool without sounding... fawning, I guess. I don't know. Any thoughts on this are welcome.

And now I'm working on Green things and in the market for story ideas to keep working for public life. Big projects are a must. I think I've accomplished my original goal of being able to turn stories quickly (this was set at the beginning of the semester. I'm horribly slow at reporting sometimes. Who am I kidding? Almost all of the time.) So it's time to move on to something that takes some research.

Also, I just would like to say that the work produced by the members of this class this semester has been absolutely phenomenal. Every time I read any of your stuff, I feel privileged to be among such fantastic reporters.

Oi.

Sometimes this is all just so sad.

The news this morning that Merna Sneed died, a few weeks after her husband, due to burns from the house explosion was sad.

The news yesterday that the School Board axed about 38 jobs was sad.

During the past week, Liz Brixey has asked me nearly every day what's wrong. Well...

Don't get me wrong. This isn't a post about how I'm worn out, or how I'm tired. I may seem overwhelmed, but that's a good thing.

It is so important for writers to have compassion. Our readers, especially readers affected by what we are reporting, need that compassion. The sadness is as much a part of the story as the time, date and place.

Progress Report:
Well, I've been reporting. I've been writing for our blog. Elections are this Tuesday. Then the aftermath. Then the impact of the results.

I think I am not leading as well I as I should be. Our beat has had some major holes in coverage of events in the past few articles. Reporters aren't taking enough notes, aren't following enough leads. Tanner and I found ourselves last night needing to rely on the other beat reporters' note-taking, and they didn't come through.

Shells... I took a long drive through Northeast Columbia. Not just downtown. Way way out there. That really helped. I think one of our things should be the Railroad and how what is being transported to Columbia has changed.

Who am I working for? Me? The Paper? The Community?

Unforuntely (or fortunately...or whatever), I believe I'm working for all three. I work for myself to do good work and get a job. I work for the paper to get a grade and, alternatively, to serve the community (and learn).

Why would this be bad? Well, because it's pretty tough to serve them all, at least at the optimum level. Here's why:

The baseball team thinks it is a good idea to play five times a week, and give me one day to talk to the players.

The newspaper needs a story for every game, but not ABOUT every game...rather a story about the team. This is nearly impossible to do with the access that I have.

The community needs both the game story and big features.

I don't need game stories at all...I need features...that's what is going to get me hired. Unforunately (like I said the first time), I'm not only here to serve myself. I have to do what the need, and put out everything the community deserves.


I don't know if this post has a moral...probably doesn't.



Progress Report
--------------
Finally, I'm rolling. I've been getting a lot of positive feedback on my stories, I'm starting to build a good rapport with the team, and I can tell that I'm getting better. I get frustrated a lot...I don't like writing tiny-feature stories that kill off a lot of the bigger features I could do, but I don't really have the time for all of the big ones anyway, so I suppose it works. I've filed about 15 stories in the last month, which is insane, but the team leaves at the end of the month, and I should be able to get some good features out.

Beats, ledes and budgets

Today, the perfect lede fell in my lap. I'm working on a story about the B5 bill that passed the Missouri senate last week. It will require all diesel sold to be a blend of 5 percent biodiesel to 95 percent regular diesel. But what was great about this lede was that the tip was buried in my notebook from an earlier interview: Columbia buses run on a biodiesel blend. So I called public works and, guess what,all diesel vehicles owned by the city run on B5 and they've been using biodiesel for six years. For a state story, I thought it was a great way to make it local. Anyone who's hitched a ride on a city bus or had garbage truck pick up their waste has had an experience with biodiesel. I've looked at some of the work other papers have done, and none of those stories have an angle like I do.

But I think a lot my angle comes from the fact that I've been reading, writing and breathing corn, soybeans and biofuel all semester. I've heard the arguments, the talking points, and am finding ways to show those instead of tell them. Not only do I know who to talk to, they know me. This is the first time in my career when I've felt like I'm working a beat. When I call Adam at the Missouri Soybean Association or Tommy at the Missouri branch of the National Agricultural Statistics Service, all I have to say is "Hi Adam/Tommy, it's Katie," and they know who I am, who I work for and what I'm most likely working on. Both have been incredibly helpful with my energy bill story and a few of the daily stories along the way. If I wasn't approaching this semester like a beat, the biodiesel story would be a different beast and most likely would be a surface level story. I'm hoping my hard work shows.

On another note, I've been thinking about the budget meetings a lot lately, and it all started with a conversation about building thick skin. I was explaining to my non-J-School friend that in budget meetings we talk about the stories in the paper and get critiqued by our editors and our peers. If something wasn't done well, you'd hear about it. Or if it was thorough or had strong writing that would be pointed out too. If you weren't there, no one could defend your story. People could be harsh, but damn if I didn't learn something after a budget meeting, at least last year. Something in them has changed. Yes, we have a lot of fancy-dancy toys, but that's not it. It's the conversation. Rarely do we get into a real critique of story, we talk about how cool the multimedia is or how things were posted online in a way that was advantageous to the reader. Yes, these do deserve to be talked about, but so does the proper use of parallel structure in a sentence. A crummy lede deserves to be pointed out, vetted and reworked as a group. The people who report for the Missourian are mostly newspaper and magazine majors who want to learn how to write. We learn from practice, yes, but when you learn from critique, you learn from what you didn't do well and it sticks with you. It points out skills that need work or new approaches to topics. It thickens the skin. I think part of the reason why Reuben has a hard time getting people to talk in budget is because 1) they are afraid of criticizing a peer, 2) they don't want to get criticized themselves, 3) they don't really have thoughts about the multimedia because they're more interested in the stories and 4) they haven't been trained to read like a writer, in fact they aren't seeing the point in reading the paper at all. I remember budgets being like a test, the editors could always tell who did their homework. Now I feel like budgets are an afterthought, and I'm concerned the 4450 reporters are missing out on one of the best things you can leave this school with: a thick skin.

Stop the Cycle: Race and the Missourian

Today’s class, talking about the extent to which we’ve addressed race in our First Ward election coverage, brought back memories from this summer. I worked with another reporter, Dustin Arand, for literally two months on a story about the Warrens, a well-known family in Columbia’s black community.

It started out when Ray Warren was released from jail, where he was being held under contempt of court for refusing to sign deeds relinquishing his claim to land he said his adoptive mother, Ruth Warren, left to him. What evolved from that was a labyrinth of a story that touched on everything from family drama, to perceived racist conspiracies in city government and courts, to a simple lesson on what not to do when you’re writing a will.

The story was, as Katherine put it, just a really good yarn. And I’m proud of the article to this day.

But boy, when that story came out, the proverbial you-know-what really hit the fan. Katherine still hears about it occasionally at community events. I had people outraged with me.

This was a good story. But after the backlash from members of the black community, I realized that when it comes to covering Columbia’s entire population, the Missourian is lacking. A recurring theme emerged among those upset with the story: where’s the positive, even neutral coverage of stuff going on in the black community? Why is the only Saturday cover story we ever see that’s rooted in Columbia’s black community one that (I’ll admit) airs out one family’s dirty laundry?

Stories covering contentious topics will always stir up chatter among stakeholders. Even if the Missourian were a shining example of minority coverage, people would’ve been upset with the article. But this wasn’t just a few people. We had a man who didn’t even know the Warren family particularly well come into the newsroom to talk to editors about the story. People were frustrated.

My fear is that the story made a group of folks who already feel ignored, even conspired against, by Columbia’s media outlets feel even more alienated. And it’s a self-perpetuating cycle. If you look at the Missourian newsroom, it’s pretty homogenous. I’m not trying to make any broad statements about why so few minorities are drawn to the journalism profession, but I do have one theory…and it’s not something limited to just the Missourian. If people don’t see themselves in the news, their lives, things important to them, then they won’t pay attention to it. And if they have little reason to consume the news, I can’t imagine why they’d be drawn to the profession that produces it.

When we see coverage of almost any minority group, it’s too frequently focused on crime. Other times, a minority group is set aside — look at political coverage, for example. Too many lump statements like “Hispanics vote for Hillary” have become mantras. We don’t get to the real news in these communities. We cover them when something bad happens, or when a story involving demographics comes up. My impression is that the majority of people who read the paper are white and at least relatively well-off, financially. And let’s be real. Our coverage totally caters to those people.

Would a broader range of readers trust the Missourian if we initiated a genuine effort to broaden our coverage, especially of the black community? It sure couldn’t hurt.

I know it’s hard for reporters to cover something they’ve never been a part of. How do you capture the spirit of a community when that community feels alienated from your news outlet? Maybe sending a reporter who has a feel for the community would help. I look back on Jemimah Noonoo’s work and see a great example there. But that’s not always possible. Until we can generate feedback and story ideas from a broader range of readers, we’ll have to grow some guts and go root out those stories ourselves.

If we were really covering minority communities like we should be, we’d be able to write “good yarn” stories like the Ray Warren story without creating such a backlash because those stories wouldn’t look like isolated, negative coverage. They’d simply be facets in a wider spectrum of comprehensive news.


PROGRESS REPORT:

By the end of the day, hopefully, I'll be done with my shells coverage, except for the editing part. I consider this a huge victory; I tried to get in touch, pretty relentlessly, which four developers of subdivisions before the folks at The Village of Cherry Hill were kind enough to even bother answering the phone. (I've learned a lesson from this: stakeholders in old-news stuff that was once controversial are probably press shy.)

In the coming couple weeks, I'll be going through the Saturday cover editing process. Then, it's back to the Muse beat. I'm pretty darn excited to returning to writing traditional features.