Facing A Blank Page

I hate facing a blank page. I think that is why, right now, I will fill this blank page with my distaste for its utter blankness.

There, that is a wonderful, not so very sophisticated way to confront a blank page. My rambling may now begin.

I suppose as a hopeful future journalist I will have to learn to confront my fear of blank pages. Yes, an article begins when a reporter faces that empty column in the newspaper, that blank television screen slot, and that unseen empty pocket on the vast Web.

It is a journalist’s job: to fill in the blank pages of humanity’s story.

In my Communications class on Thursday, we discussed journalism as a profession. I believe the word “profession” is what differentiates a journalist from a blogger. For journalists, reporting is their profession. Bloggers have demonstrated their ability to publish the news but their blogs lack a degree of professionalism. In the Nieman Reports by the Nieman Foundation for Journalism at Harvard, Douglas Rushkoff says of bloggers, “Just because a kid now enjoys the typing skill and distribution network once exclusive to a professional journalist doesn’t mean he knows how to research, report or write. It’s as if a teenager who has played Guitar Hero got his hands on a real Stratocaster—and thinks he’s ready for an arena show.”

Citizens cannot rely on bloggers for their news. No, citizens need journalists who are educated and fully dedicated to finding the truth.

Jim Willis argues in his book The Mind of a Journalist that journalists believe they belong to a “professional priesthood” (13). In this priesthood, journalists see themselves like the clergy who “surrender to the higher calling of serving others” (13). When I first heard the term “priesthood,” I have to say, I imagined journalists grasping the paper like a clergyman grasps the bible. Nevertheless, I wish all journalists believed their calling to be aligned with a religious kind of fervor towards service. However, too often, journalism can become a hunt for the front-page spot. In these moments, journalists lose sight of their journalistic calling to serve others and even trample over others to pursue their careers.

I am beginning to sound like a preacher of the press. But I do believe that journalists should never forget those they are serving. My view of who a journalist should be is idealistic, yes, but idealism leads to better outcomes I have found.

In my assigned reading for class, I read about different types of journalists. I try and find myself in these journalists. Maybe that is why I was so worried when one journalist, Michael Walker, was quoted to say, “I wasn’t angry, but I was definitely an outsider…All my friends were….Nobody was on the football team or worked the school paper or even student council” (26).

Oh no, I thought.

I had worked on my school paper.

And I had loved it.

I began to worry what this meant. Thankfully, I decided and was assured in the reading that journalists can have different childhoods, different passions, and different worldviews. Yes, different kinds of journalists make a paper more interesting.

In the Society of Professional Journalists’ Code of Ethics, the SPJ argue that journalists should “avoid conflicts of interest, real or perceived.” On this subject, again, I was worried I was somehow unfit to become a journalist. I know myself. I know that somewhere in my future if I was where I wanted to be: reporting a story in some poverty-stricken area, searching and imploring the world to recognize the people there, I would have a hard time avoiding conflicts. Thankfully, I read former New York Times reporter Barry Bearak’s thoughts on this matter: “Some journalists would say your job is to let the person die and record the death accurately. Not me. If I had to make that choice, I’d put my notebook away and try to save the life” (Mind 35).

In a life or death situation I, too, would put my notebook away. I hope I will never become so lost in writing a tragedy that I write away a life.

In The Mind of a Journalist, Willis related worldview to an umbrella that will “provide us a means of protection from confusion” (27). While journalists can differ in their views on life and their profession, all journalists, I realize, have to get a little wet sometimes. I may not be able to set down my umbrella, or my beliefs about the world, completely but I can hold out my hand and let the rain splatter on my fingers. To be a reporter, I must try and understand others to try and help others. I must look out and try and see the world blurred by the rain. Yes, a journalist must often face the confusion of the rain.