A journalism journey

One of the hardest parts of covering the Legislature is contacting people. It’s hard enough to get them on the phone, and it’s even harder to know how to plan your schedule around them calling.

Of course, this is compounded by the fact that I don’t have a cell signal in the office, which leaves me with the perpetual problem of trying to figure out what number to have them call, when to tell them to call, which one to call first, etc.

Invariably, I mess this process up. Sometimes to the nth degree.

Case in point, yesterday I called the vice provost at the University of North Texas for a story I was working on. She wasn’t available, so I gave the secretary my cell number, and said I would be in the office later in the afternoon.

Not expecting an immediate call, I ran to get my hair cut.

Bad idea.

Apparently I don’t get  a cell signal in Pro Cuts, either, because when she called me back a few minutes later, it didn’t ring and went to my voicemail.

Or, at least it tried to go to my voicemail.

For some reason my phone decided to forward my calls to a 16-year-old acquaintance of mine. So a confused UNT vice provost is talking to an even more confused 16-year-old.

Thankfully she called the office and I got in touch with her before she left the office for the day…and, thus, another chapter was written in the source phone tag annals.

I think one of the hardest lessons to learn as a journalist is to not make pre-judgments regarding what a story is about – or that there is a story. I can think of many times when I thought I knew what the story was, but through reporting I found out it was something very different.

Unfortunately, there’s been plenty of times when I plowed through with my own angle.

But I’m learning that good journalism means always placing value on substance over style. I may have a good quote, or a carefully crafted sentence, but if it doesn’t tell the story that needs to the told – the accurate story – then it’s got to go.

Sometimes, the story needs to be pitched altogether. And as a writer being paid per-story, this is not something I like to do.

There’s a guy from my hometown who was called up to the major leagues last week. I was going to cover his first home game Monday night, even though he hadn’t played since he was called up.

I showed up to the stadium and found out he was starting. I texted my boss and told him we had struck gold…out of pure luck.

Unfortunately, our hometown hero went 0-for-4 with three strikeouts.

*sigh*

After the game I interviewed him and he was gracious enough. We’ve talked before about how the interviews are just part of his job, and, as usual, he answered all my questions with patience.

Later I talked to my boss and told him we should just scrap the story. He agreed.

It may seem like the obvious thing to do, but there was a day when I would have forced that story to happen. I would have written it, gotten paid, had a clip, etc., but I realized it wasn’t the right thing to do.

I’ve got plenty of other lessons to learn, but I was excited to see one I’m getting a handle on. Progress is encouraging. I just wish it hadn’t taken me so long.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who remembers Bill Clinton’s infamous statement related to the Monica Lewinsky saga….”That depends on what the definition of ‘is’ is,” he said.

That’s how I feel about journalism sometimes. It’s so hard to know what’s “good” and what isn’t.

Since I came to this school in the fall, I’ve come to realize just how little I know about journalism. In fact, I’m reminded of this on an almost-daily basis by those over me. It seems I do more wrong than right these days.

I’m not going to lie, it gets frustrating. For the first several years I was involved in journalism, I usually thought my stuff was pretty good when I would read it the next day.

LOL!

It was awful.

The bad part is, now I think most all of my stuff is awful. I’m not kidding. I have no desire to send in any of my work for contests, because I don’t really like most of it. Hardly a day goes by that I don’t read my story and immediately think about all the holes in it.

Is this the result of daily critiques? I’m still not sure.

What I do know is that journalism is hugely subjective. So many of the little things are based on preference.

With one of my bosses, the word “respectively” was taboo.  Another said (jokingly, of course) don’t ever use “scamper” in a football story or he would beat me up.

Last year I wrote two versions of the same story for my school paper and my local paper. My journalism instructor at the time said the local paper got the better story. Later, another adviser said the school version was better.

Who really knows? Not me, that’s for sure.

I guess the only thing to do is keep trudging through the necessary failures…with enthusiasm.

“Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm.” Winston Churchill

As I alluded to in my last post, sometimes the difference between being good and bad is a very small margin.

In fact, I would argue that’s usually true.

Last Friday I covered the Texas Rangers home opener, which was exciting for several reason:

1. I love the Rangers. Covering a game only enhances the experience because I can talk to the players afterward

2. I love baseball, and was ready for the season to start.

3. I was writing a column for the LNJ, which would be on the front page. I’ve written lots of columns for them and had a few news stories on the front page, but never a column on the front page.

Due to the placement of the story, I decided I needed to incorporate some fans. I didn’t think it would be that difficult because the last three Opening Day games I’ve covered, I’ve always bumped into people I knew from East Texas.

But Friday it wasn’t so easy.

An hour before the game I stepped out the back of the press box to the second-level concourse area. I saw tons of people walking by, but no one I recognized (except Jon Daniels, but he doesn’t count).

I finally went back into the press box in time for the National Anthem, and decided to fish for people at the game with the use of a mass text. I got a couple of responses, but not what I really wanted.

Midway through the game I set off toward the seats of some friends, and I heard “JC!” from behind me.

An acquaintance from Longview was yelling my name as his escalator ascended toward the upper deck.

I yelled my phone number to him and he texted me.

After the game I got my quote, and the column was a success.

So I guess the moral of the story is to go the extra mile when it comes to looking for sources.

Either that, or always say “hi” when you see someone you know from the escalator.

In so many ways, I often feel like I’m a needle in a haystack.

I think one of the most difficult parts of journalism is attempting to separate yourself. There’s a journalist on every corner – many of them looking for jobs – and even more waiting in the wings. I look around The Shorthorn newsroom and wonder how we will all find jobs.

The hard reality is that many of us won’t – at least in the field of journalism. Some will end up in public relations, some marketing, and like or not, some at Home Depot.

In some ways it’s even harder to separate yourself as a student journalist. Not only are we all stuck in close proximity, but many of our beats overlap.

And you have no idea if your predecessor was competent.

That sounds harsh, but it’s the truth. Especially on my beat, administration, my sources have experienced unprepared, inconsiderate and unprofessional student journalists.

Then I come along, and I’m thrown in the same bucket. Lest you misunderstand, I realize I’m far from perfect. I’m still learning just as much as anybody else, but that’s all the more reason why I don’t want to be punished for the mistakes of my predecessor(s).

I make enough of my own.

One of the mistakes I’ve vowed not to make again is to show up to an event under-dressed. I despise that situation, which is much worse than being over-dressed.

Take this morning, for example.

Today I rolled out of bed at 8:45 a.m. and used my Saturday morning to go to a community garden dedication, not because I was covering it but because I wanted to mingle with people on my beat. It was an outdoor event, but I still wore a tie because I knew the mayor and others would be there.

As it turns out, I was the only one of about 150 people in a tie. Oh well.

Sure enough, I got a golden opportunity to talk with someone on my beat who I had repeatedly tried to contact to no avail (even after being sent by the provost). We had a nice chat and I got the information I needed for a story next week.

Did I make an impression? I don’t know, but I know I did my best…And I sure wasn’t under-dressed.

Editors … You can’t live with them and you can’t live without them.

I’ve been writing for newspapers for almost nine years, and in that time I’ve worked with a lot of editors. To put it bluntly, some have been good, and some haven’t.

The first couple of stories I wrote in 2002 were, in hindsight, awful. Of course, a new reporter doesn’t know what he/she doesn’t know. I just knew I picked up the paper and the story didn’t look like what I wrote originally.

However, I was aware that I was clueless. I had never even heard of AP Style.

As I continued to write and learn an understanding of journalistic writing, I also started to learn my editors. Consistency makes a big difference.

Still, I get as frustrated as ever when flow is broken, a grammatical error is inserted or, worst of all, a factual error is created by an editor. It happens more often than you think.

I’ve always thought that editors should have to put their name at the bottom of the story. “Edited by…” That way, people know that it’s not necessarily (or only) the reporter who needs to shoulder blame.

When I became an editor in 2008 my perspective changed because then I knew what they were going through. It’s not easy making decisions on deadline, knowing it’s too late to contact a source and being forced into a decision.

It can be nerve-wracking. The same can also be said of reporting.

This weekend I put about 10 hours into a story, only to have it chopped to the point that I hardly wanted my name on it.

I know I’m overreacting, but some rules just shouldn’t be broken, and it pains me to think that people think I wrote it that way.

But you know what? A lot of that is nothing but pride. As journalists, we tend to think it’s too often about us, when it’s really not.

Yes, it’s tough when you put your heart and soul into a story and it doesn’t turn out the way you want it.

But if the information was accurate and disseminated effectively to the public, you have to let it go.

Tomorrow is a new day.

“Rain, sleet, snow or hail, nothing can stop the delivery of the mail.”

I’m sure we’ve all heard this many times. I think you could go ahead and put “news” as that last word. I know it doesn’t rhyme, but hey, the meaning fits perfectly.

I’m sick this week. Finally got a prescription today, so hopefully I’ll feel better soon. But it occurs to me that the news never stops. (Yes, I really already knew this, but just roll with me here.)

A couple of weeks ago when the ice storms hit, we were busier than ever at The Shorthorn. I was sliding around on ice to talk to students, making calls and writing stories. I even got a few of my photos published.

Now that I’m sick, it’s actually a worse predicament than the weather problems. I could push through normally, but this time I have laryngitis. That makes talking kind of difficult. I can’t decide whether I sound more like a 30-year smoker, or a 12-year-old kid just hitting puberty.

Either way, it’s not good.

It’s just awkward when, during an interview, I randomly go into a coughing fit. So I’ve been doing what I can to stay up on the news and read a lot.

This week I had an idea about something that could help the budget problems, so I called the Legislative Budget Board. I croaked out my question and he told me that $9.1 billion of the $91.9 billion budget for FY 2010 was devoted to state employees’ wages and salaries.

That’s a lot of money. But still not as much as I thought it would be. I ran the numbers and a 3 percent pay cut for state workers would save Texas $273 million. Hardly enough to put a dent in the $15 billion shortfall, but it would darn sure save some jobs.

So, there you have it. That’s my contribution to society this week.

Last week was interesting. As is typical of journalism, it had its ups and downs.

The week started with a thud. I had requested information of the university three times at the end of the previous week, only to be told it wasn’t available. But on Monday it was made available to only the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. That means they got the “exclusive” story Monday.

Several of us at the newspaper compared notes about other schools we’ve attended, and we all agreed that this one is different. While other schools give their own school newspapers an opportunity for scoops ahead of everybody else, this one actually stonewalls their own school paper. Nice.

I know why they did it: it’s a publicity maneuver. However, I don’t think they realize it’s not in the university’s best interest to tick off a bunch of journalists. Trust me, that’s bad strategy…

The week got considerably better as it progressed. It ended with my first trip to Austin during the legislative session. Of course, it was Friday, so not much was going on at the Capitol.

I actually went to cover the UT System Board of Regents meeting, which went well. After the meeting was adjourned I went to move toward our president, only to see him bolting for the door. Uh, I don’t think so.

I didn’t leave DFW at 5 a.m. to have him slip off without talking to me. The best part about it was that his shadow wasn’t hanging on his coat tails. The worst part about it was that he wouldn’t stop to talk to me.

It was kind of dumb. While I asked him questions, he continued to walk back to his digs at the Omni Hotel. So we ended up walking about six city blocks while I interviewed him. Whatever.

By the time I made it back to where the meeting had been, almost everybody else was gone.

But I got my questions in and wrote four stories based on the meeting, so I’m happy.

The world of journalism is an interesting one. I know a lot of jobs require people to take work home with them, but it seems to me that being in the media requires more than usual. The news never stops, and you better stay on top of it. If you don’t, somebody else will, and you will quickly lose relevance.

Earlier today I was trying to wrap up a story for Monday’s paper and I was writing with my gmail chat box open. I put “writing a story” as my status. Later, one of my friends said, “What else is new?”

Apparently, I sound like a broken record because my status often has something to do with researching, finding sources and writing stories. I can’t help it. That’s often what I’m doing! I have tons of Internet tabs open all the time as I try to cross-reference, find info, do google searches, type e-mails and chat all at the same time. (Who says men can’t multi-task?

Sometimes you just need a break. For me that break is on Sundays when I go to church, study in the afternoons and generally try to relax my brain. But that’s tomorrow.

For now, it’s Saturday, and I still have another story to write for Monday’s paper.

Back to work.

I’ve been a student journalist since I entered college, so that’s nothing new for me. I wrote a variety of stories for The Flare at Kilgore College, but none of it was quite the same as what I’ve experienced UTA. Each day is a new experience, and today was no exception.

My beat at The Shorthorn is Administration I. The biggest part of my beat right now is covering the 82nd Texas Legislature. This is a challenge because a) I’ve never covered the Legislature before, b) I’m several hours away from the action and c) I’m taking 16 hours.

This week UTA President James Spaniolo went to Austin to speak before the Senate Finance Committee about the impact of the state budget proposal. (In case you haven’t heard, it’s not good.) So today he and Provost Donald Bobbitt hosted an open forum for faculty, staff and students in Nedderman Hall. It was interesting to look around and see vice presidents, deans and faculty gathered into one place. Few students, unfortunately, but about 150 people came.

I decided I was going to keep quiet as much as possible – despite the list of questions I wanted to ask. I didn’t want to butt in if there were questions from others who may not see President Spaniolo very often….Not that I get to see him either, but hey, I was being nice.

As the hour progressed, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The faculty kept throwing out these softball questions! After about 45 minutes, I had had all I could take. All of the answers were starting to sound the same. Very few specifics were being discussed.

It was time to act.

I motioned for the mic and it was brought to me right after someone had tossed the king of all softballs at President Spaniolo. As any good lawyer would, he knocked it out of the park, finishing with a flurry and nearly shouting something like, “We will not be stopped in our relentless pursuit of Tier One!” At the prompting of the president’s faithful shadow, the adoring crowd burst into applause.

After the roar died down, I spoke into the mic: “Provost Bobbitt mentioned that the 24 percent funding we receive from the state would go down. Can you tell us by how much it would drop in the current bill?”

Spaniolo and Bobbitt looked like deer caught in headlights. Spaniolo him-hawed around and said, “Well, it’s kind of a moving target.” Bobbitt said, “Around 20 percent,” as Spaniolo cut in by saying, “We can get you that information.”

But not before Bobbitt mumbled, “$37 million over the biennium.”

The president’s shadow turned around and glared at me.

A lady near me whispered, “Thank you. That’s what we all wanted to ask.”

Mission accomplished.