Helping journalists to come out of their shell
Is it better to report on a community you’re a part of? In either case, journalists have to give up control and learn to surrender.
In our class of social journalism at CUNY’s Grad School of Journalism, each of us works with a community of his or her choice. For me, the question which community I should commit to for this one-year-project, was a big one. A community I belong to — the options are limited, maybe the Austrian or feminist community — or exploring something completely new?
I decided to do the latter, I want to to concentrate on the Haitian community in Brooklyn and report on how it is affected by gentrification. Leila Day — she’s a reporter and editor at KALW in the San Francisco Bay area — gives tips on how reporters can become better on reporting on communities that are not their own, which are very useful:
1. Engage as a person, not just as a reporter.
2. Identify your own preconceived notions about people or places. Everyone has them. We simply need to recognize them.
3. Avoid the radiosplaining.
Leila Day also tracks down the challenge of explaining things to listeners that know nothing about the community and to members of the community at the same time. To explain to outsiders like yourself, not-being a member of a community is actually an advantage, even though it is a challenge. You know no-one, and you have to start at the beginning by gaining trust and showing that you’re not assuming to know it all.
I strongly agree with Leila Day when she says it’s about gaining people’s trust and explaining them why you earn it. Show some empathy! And yes, reporting can also be used to obsere yourself and your stereotypes. It’s all about giving up on your assumptions and being open to understand and learn.
One of my professors at the school of journalism at the University of Oregon, the wonderful storytelling teacher Lauren Kessler, once said:
“It’s not a problem unless you don’t say it’s a problem.”
I applied this when I did my story on a young homeless woman named Alaska in Portland by telling her:
“Look, I know this must sound strange, but I would like to follow you in your daily life. I want to understand what it is like to be you, but I have no idea. Please show me. You’re the teacher, I’m the student.“
After spending two weeks with Alaska, she told me: “I’m glad I could help you come out of your shell.” SHE helped me, not the other way around.
So this will be my matra for this year: The community is the teacher, I am the student. Don’t just think about the story, think about the people. Listen. Be attentive. Be present. Surrender.
