Thursday, May 22, 2008

Why we do what we do... and why it's often dangerous

A lot of people go into journalism because they like to write. I agree that writing is an essential aspect of the craft. If you can't form clear, coherent sentences and combine them to create an interesting story, you won't do well as a reporter. But writing isn't really what our craft is all about.

Journalism is about getting the news to people. It's about telling them what they need to know in a timely manner. Sure, telling it well is important, too. But the fact that we tell people what's happening in their world is an essential part of society.

Two recent articles reminded me why journalism is so important to the world. One story is an old one. One story is current. Both make me proud to be a journalist. And both should be read by all current and future journalists.

The first story is that of Ida B. Wells-Barnett, one of the first investigative journalists to crusade against lynching. A new book by Paula J. Giddings, "Ida: A Sword Among Lions: Ida B. Wells and the Campaign Against Lynching," takes a fresh look at this important American. Richard Lingeman reviews the book in this week's New York Times Book Review. Lingeman begins his review with a lead that brings the importance of Wells' work into the present:
If slavery is America’s original sin, lynching is its capital crime. The historical memory dies hard: only last year, three nooses were hung from a schoolyard tree contested by white and black students in Jena, La.
Lingeman then tells Wells' story. If you haven't heard of Wells before, you need to read this review, and maybe even Giddings' book. Wells' work was dangerous -- in 1889, a white mob attacked her newspaper office and probably would have lynched her if she had not been out of town.

More than 70 years after Wells' death, the work journalists do is still dangerous in many parts of the world. One example is in Myanmar, where journalists are putting their lives at risk to cover the effects of the recent cyclone.

Clark Hoyt, the public editor of The New York Times, discussed the problems journalists face in Myanmar in Sunday's column. Hoyt wrote that the Times' editors decided not to identify a reporter covering the devastation because they feared for his safety. Here's an excerpt about the reasons the Times didn't give the reporter a byline:
Describing the situation in Myanmar, Susan Chira, the foreign editor, said that the correspondent entered the country on a tourist visa, was changing hotels frequently to evade the authorities and was initiating all contact with the newspaper because only the correspondent could judge when it was safe to talk. “We don’t like to go around breaking (a country’s) rules arbitrarily,” she said. “It leaves our reporters vulnerable. But it’s our duty to report, so we take a calculated risk in consultation with the reporters.”
The Times finally gave readers an explanation of the Myanmar situation on Thursday, in another article without a byline, saying that the ruling military junta barred foreigners from the areas of greatest damage, that the reporter had hidden in the bottom of a boat to get to the scene, and that the reporter’s name was being withheld to avoid detection.
But Myanmar isn't the only dangerous place for journalists. Hoyt's column also discussed the situation in Zimbabwe, where a Times reporter was recently arrested for doing his job. He was arrested for trying to tell people what was happening.

Telling people what's going on allows citizens to participate in the democratic process. When despots take over governments, one of the first things they do is to grab control of the media outlets. A free press is rare, and where it does exist, it should be protected.

So if you're thinking about going into journalism, remember that it's not all about writing great leads and learning AP style. It's important work that some people are willing to risk their lives for. It's something all journalists should be proud of.

Monday, May 19, 2008

For language lovers only

The school year just ended, and I'm a bit winded from grading all those finals. I'm not teaching this summer, so I'll have lots of time to post to this blog. Meanwhile, here's a link to William Safire's latest On Language column. The problems Safire tackles here make me feel like a wannabe. Wondering about the difference between ambivalent and ambiguous? Think you know what alliteration means? I admit I'm baffled when it comes to the present perfect. And I'm still waiting for the perfect present. Maybe for my next birthday.

Thursday, May 1, 2008

To cut, or not to cut?

Just had to link to this post about editors at Paper Cuts, one of my favorite blogs. It's written by the editors of The New York Times Book Review.

Some of the reader comments on this blog are classic. One of my favorites, posted by Jeremy Spencer: "Cutting is an art not easily mastered."

One question that Paper Cuts brings up is just how much editing an editor is supposed to do. After all, at some point, if the editor makes enough changes, whose copy is it? When does the editor become the writer? I remember one classmate in college who claimed that each piece was like a body part, and the act of editing was like chopping off a limb. I wouldn't go that far. But I often wonder how much editing is too much. I tell students that if they want to change a lead, they should call the author first and discuss it. But that's not a very deep discussion.

What do writers and reporters out there think? What about editors?