The free press must evolve, reckon with a world in crisis
CHICO » To be a journalist in 2020 was not to learn to have a thick skin. It was learning in a crisis, no matter what you write — deprived of sleep and social interaction, on the phone at home instead of the newsroom — journalism is needed, but seldom welcome.
Reporting in 2020 will push some of us out of the industry forever. Many of my peers have been harassed, chased, threatened, tear gassed, even shot in the line of duty. Personally, the year’s events have only reinforced why I’m here, but I will not blame anyone who cannot do this job anymore.
Many of us were forced out as jobs were cut, or furloughed. Too many newsrooms were stretched thin or shuttered for good. After four years of rising mistrust of journalism and free press, this year we were needed like never before. But thanks in part to 2020’s economic crises, there are few resources remaining to know how long the free press has left to cover the communities that need it so badly.
I was very thankful to be a local reporter this year, covering city politics and the Chico City Council, Camp Fire recovery, housing and homelessness, and sometimes climate and health issues. I also covered many sides of the pandemic, the California fires and the protests of policing and racial injustice, as did most other journalists. No matter how many roles I had to take on as our staff shrunk, it only reinforced my love in the job, and belief in why the local daily is vital. Any time communities face trauma and disaster like Butte County has, powerful entities can take control, and that is when the fourth pillar of democracy must be trusted. We barely began fire recovery before being slammed by the pandemic — and when the county again faced devastating fire with the North Complex, I felt how badly we were needed, if not always wanted.
The pandemic shook traditional journalism to
its core, and that is a good thing.
For example, at our own paper homelessness was no longer an official beat before 2020. But when our miniseries on the homelessness crisis ended, I just kept writing about it, and the beat became mine, right as the pandemic really slammed our unhoused population.
These changes have to happen whether newsrooms are ready to change or not, and in our little newsroom, we had to think outside the box, work as a team and challenge the way we have always done things. When you’re facing how a pandemic exposes the reality of inequality in our cities and country, it also exposes how badly we need more diversity in our approach, in our storytellers. We need young journalists from different social and economic backgrounds with new ways of telling stories, if the old ways cannot keep up. We need new perspectives hitting the streets if we are to avoid becoming stagnant or tepid, to instead uncover the stories often ignored and voices rarely heard.
After all, journalists are people too. We are not part of the story, but this year made most of us more aware of our own limits in crisis.
As a daughter who lost my mother a decade ago, it cuts deep watching so many go numb to the specter of death, to their own involvement in its spread. And when they run up
in my face and pull their mask off to tell me how untrustworthy I am, along with all members of the media.
As a child of family who edged near homelessness due to addiction, it stings when those with privileges attack reporters for covering stories from multiple perspectives on these issues, rather than report only what they want to hear.
As a woman and person of color, just being a reporter felt dangerous. The pandemic magnified what has always been bubbling over nationwide — and why journalism is dangerous in such times. Our words can be twisted for any number of agendas, and yet we must press on to protect our community.
It’s easy to blame journalists when you are hurting and scared, and even easier when they represent a threat to an agenda. It happened over and over again when I covered the often bitter, divided nature of our own local election and the battles within the city council. People on all sides will attack journalists in this political climate if they hope to see only their agenda promoted by the press. That’s why any time journalists are made the enemy, you should be concerned for democracy.
The virus exposed the disparity we know is there and choose to turn away from. It displayed who got priority medical care, and who was in the streets at night through sweltering heat, choking smoke and freezing cold. We saw who got help when a fire took away everything, and who is still living out of a car; who wondered when to eat inside a restaurant again, and who worried where their next meal would come from.
It is tragic to have to learn about the weaknesses of journalism in the face of disparity, but it will be my ongoing commitment to remember this post is not to be used to advance the opinions of any authority figure. It is to hold each one accountable, as well as to seek out voices often drowned out by those in power.
And we must be willing to be held accountable to change. If we’re going to call out injustice where we see it, we have to call out when these problems start in our own newsrooms, and keep our own voices of power accountable. Our job is not just to report “both sides.” Our job is to listen to multiple voices and report the truth. That’s why the diversity of the stories we must work harder to report will also start with the diversity of our newsrooms.
Despite 2020, journalism is still the most rewarding, meaningful work I can imagine. But we’ve got a lot of work to do. Keep up with your local reporters, and next time you drop them an email, please remember there’s a human on the other end.