6 life lessons journalism taught me
If you’ve ever been in journalism or know someone who does, it’s likely you’ve heard of the tune called: “Low Wage, Long Hours” or in Chinese “賤賣理想” (Sell your ideals cheap)
This song is often used as a conversation starter and chorus with a discussion of whose fault it is that a theoretically romantic profession, — think “freedom of speech”, “voice of the people”, “The Fourth Estate” — is now usually a group of sleep-deprived cynics.
Yes, wages ARE low and hours ARE long, the struggle is real. Much has been said about the system and its ills. But on a personal level, I think journalism is a great teacher if you really try to be good at it. So here are some takeaways after 4 years of reporting.
Lesson #1. You are not special
As much as people think being in the media gets you places, that’s cause we've gotten our faces slammed by the door enough for the universe to take pity on us. Nobody needs to talk to you, give you stuff or help you out just because YOUR job needs it. If others give you special treatment, they expect you and the agency you work for, to treat them just as special.
Don’t assume privilege. When you come to terms with the fact that nobody owes you anything, you’ll be less bitter about working harder.
Put a Trophy Kid through some newsroom action and watch how rejection polish them down to earth.
Lesson #2. Don’t panic
Related to the Lesson #1, shit happens to everyone, including you who has a deadline to meet, who needs that soundbite in time for national news, who must verify the facts, who needs to fulfill your weekly feature story quota……The only way to go about it is to first, calm your tits. If things always go perfectly well, news would be boring.
Expect things to go wrong and plan solutions ahead. When things do go wrong, you won’t be caught flustered because you saw it coming. If you aren't the type that’s naturally relaxed, (which by the way, compromises sense of urgency) it takes practice to not panic.
During my first week interning at a TV station in Hong Kong, I was constantly in cold sweat and troubled by auditory hallucination — my cellphone ringing with my editor waiting on the other end. The lack of structure in this job drove me nuts. So to prep myself, every night I spend some time to mentally construct scenes of tomorrow’s assignment, with the help of good’ol 5W1H:
Where : where’s the place, how to get there, how long will it take
Who : Who to expect, who might appear, who matter more and must be quoted? Any friends on the same assignment?
What: What to bring, what weather to dress for, what shots to have on tape, what news angle?
Why: why are you sent to cover this? a)it’s actually important OR b)slow news day, so go fetch something entertaining to fill airtime.
When: does timing mean anything to this event? was it early/later than expected? was it brewing or a lead up to something more in the future?
How: if something goes wrong, how will I fix it?
After you’ve seen enough possible fuck-ups , nothing really surprises you anymore. If it does, it better be batshit crazy and worthy of a happy hour story.
Lesson #3. Be prepared, if not, be confident while pretending you are
Part of what J-school didn’t state in its syllabus, is the art of bullshiting. Not just in paper, but tactical skills of extracting information, even when you are not sure what answers you’re looking for.
It’s not uncommon to get an assignment that only states the event name, address and time. No instructions, no background, no clear future implications, no nothing. I don’t even know why I’m here lol. Sometimes you’re put to cover topics out of your focus area. Worse, last minute.
Since you can’t prep prior to going there, get prepared mentally. Be extra observant, look out for clues, talk to people (See fellow press? great! have a chat and see if everyone is just as blur. If not, politely ask for info.) Then, start generating questions. You don’t need to have the right answers, but ONE good question is enough to score a national headline, despite having only spent 15 mins exploring the topic.
It’s impossible to be good at everything and always feel confident with the support of facts . Anyone can cook if they stick strictly to the recipe. But an experience chef understands food chemistry to relate interactions, predict outcome and troubleshoot problems. This is the kind of skill that emboldens you in face of the unknown.
I went from politics to business desk. It’s like going from flipping burgers to French fine dining, I couldn’t even understand the menu. But the method of logical deduction stays the same. So keep your eyes open, exercise your brain often, and you’ll be badass-Gordon-Ramsay-confident.
Lesson #4. Don’t keep hitting the wall. Turn around.
There’s a fine line between being persistent and stubborn. But I’m not saying both are always good. If the effort doesn’t yield results, it could also mean you’re going the wrong way. So maybe take a step back and think of a different approach. Don’t be too prideful to start over.
Lesson #5. Keep evidence of your work
I was taken to court for defamation. I purged out all the evidence I kept from that particular undercover assignment: notes, recordings, pictures, email exchanges. Plaintiff withdrew the case and was compensated next to nothing. I’m eternally grateful that J-school drilled this into us.
That’s evidence for technical purposes. But this also taught me that if you try hard to be good at what you do, the results are your best evidence.
Lesson #6. You don’t need to be an asshole
Just because general perception categorizes media as assholes, doesn’t mean you lose your manners and enforce the already skewed perception. Not all the time at least.
The mantra bestowed to me in school was: Be human first. Journalist second. Covering the missing aircraft MH370 tragedy challenged our moral principles. Next of kin of the victims arrives at the hotel, you know which room they’re in. If they talk, the story would be juicy as hell, but they pay the price in suffering from press harassment and distress. Would you do it?
I wrote about the 20th anniversary of the Highland Tower collapse. Too eager to find emotions for my story, until an old man mourning for his lost children and wife gave me a piece of his mind.
“Stop asking. It hurts me so much.”
Questions do hurt people. Exercise your discretion.
For the record, though I’m taking a break to try something else, I really did love reporting. It wasn’t just a career, it’s was calling.
