Wednesday, November 3, 2010
PEA RIDGE — Back in junior high school
I learned a lesson about bul
lies. I saw a scrawny, meek
boy get pushed too far.
The bully learned the
power of fear, which cuts
both ways. Early on, he con
trolled with fear; after his
beating he remained a bully,
but at least he was a bully
that took a bad beating.
To the person who e
mailed Managing Editor
Annette Beard this note
- “I hope you know that
you will not have a job after
the election” - I want to
point out that you are not
me. I AM Annette’s boss.
Odd that you’ve not taken
the time to call me; I gave
you my phone number in
my reply to you.
To the person who’s
posting flyers around town
calling for a boycott of this
newspaper because of sto
ries we’ve written, that’s the
American Way. But unlike
Colonial times - when
putting your name on some
thing meant hanging from
the end of a rope - those
times have long passed.
Don’t be a coward.
◊◊ ◊
Being a strong believer in
the strength of community
journalism means that, at
times, very painful deci
sions have to be made.
An example: One day,
being told that the news
paper can’t take photos in
the large retailer’s store
because it’s against policy,
then two days later being
invited to the store to takea photo. Difference is, store management wanted the second photo. The right newspaper answer should be: Isn’t taking photos in the store against policy?
Community journalism means that the people we go to church with, the parents of the youngsters our children do things with, the people who are around at the store and clubs - all these people can end up in the newspaper. We love it when it’s because of something “good” and terrible when it’s because of something “bad.”
Over the years I’ve been asked some version of “Can’t you just leave it out?” The easy answer would be “Sure.”
Friday, I came across these two quotes.
“It is easy to choose safe journalism; it is hard to choose journalism with risk.”
- Rich Oppel, speaking at the Southern Newspaper Publishers Association convention, Oct. 19, 2010
“If you remain silent today on vital matters and live questions, tomorrow when a crisis arises you will not know how to speak. By your failure to use your freedomyou have slain it; and when freedom of speech dies, liberty of conscience will succumb. And another civilization will have gone to its grave.”
- Julian Harris, the Columbus, Ga., editor who investigated the KKK and won the Pulitzer Public Service Award in 1926
Both quotes go to the heart of what community journalism is: it’s supporting the community and the endeavors of the residents, but it is also being a voice of reason, a stable institution in the face of wrongdoing.
Sometimes, standing up for what is right and just requires a strength that seems impossible to obtain, let alone maintain.
More than once I’ve been told that I just wanted to be Woodward and Bernstein - the two Washington Post reporters whose investigations revealed actions that lead to president Nixon’s resignation. The Watergate crisis formed the world view of people going into journalism in the 1980s: Many of my college classmates’ life goal was to work at a national paper because that’s where the glory was.
Today, that landscape has changed mightily. Yes, there are still national papers whose staffers break global stories. But those papers are few. The landscape of journalism today is one dotted by small dailies and weeklies. Many of the offices have three or two or one person doing everything.
Those community papers - the ones that worry about what’s going on right here at home, papers that cover Little League games and accept submitted photos of VFW motorcycle rides - are also papers that write about governmental doings, dig into budgets and write about sometimes unpleasant things - those papers are thriving.
When someone tells me I just want to be Woodward and Bernstein I know they intend it as an insult - but I take it as a compliment.
People who see those two as what’s wrong with the press (and I mean the press, not the media) are generally those who might be on the receiving end of the ink pen.
They represent an institution unwilling to bow to pressure, an institution that has a sense of fairness and decency as well as morals and ethics. They represent the lone reporter, standing in the face of withering criticism because of a question he asked or a story she wrote - standing up to bullies and thugs - who might just be your daughter’s guidance counselor or your husband’s cousin.
◊◊ ◊
Editor’s note: Kent Marts is publisher of the weeklies for Northwest Arkansas Newspapers LLC. He can be contacted at [email protected].
Opinion, Pages 4 on 11/03/2010