We’re working for a sense of connection too

“News happens, even in a pandemic. Such was the case with the fire in Barrhaven Tuesday that took two lives and left eight families homeless.”

That’s my colleague, senior reporter Blair Crawford, describing in an email how his workweek unfolded in a COVID-19-dominated world. Crawford knows how to write a lede, as you can see. And although coronavirus has dominated the headlines, he’s tackled a variety of news stories — some upbeat and some, like this one, tragic.

But like other journalists around the city, and country, he’s had to adjust to the imperative of physical distancing. After some research, Crawford found a woman who lived in the unit below where the fire started. Her story, as you can imagine, was harrowing. “It’s hard to speak to someone about such an intimate, traumatizing experience over the phone,” noted Crawford, “but that’s what we have now. It’s our way of connecting. … And as is often the case when newspapers tell stories like this, my inbox was flooded the next day with offers of help” for her.

Connection. It’s fundamental to our success as a craft — as it is to the success of our society. With face-to-face encounters now minimized, our visual communication cues are often gone.

Here’s a bit about how that looks for a news organization. On the pandemic front, virtual news conferences abound — which is good, in principle. In a single day, health reporter Elizabeth Payne notes, a reporter sitting in her makeshift home office, can plug in to the World Health Organization’s daily update; the prime minister’s 11:15 “presser” from Rideau Cottage; a briefing from top federal doctor Theresa Tam and various ministers; Premier Doug Ford updating Ontario’s situation; and, in mid-afternoon, a media teleconference with officials from the City of Ottawa and Ottawa Public Health.

Working from home doesn’t offer the same dynamic.

That seems like an awful lot of information — yet in many ways, it’s not. As city hall reporter Jon Willing explained, these regimented and distancing formats allow a reporter only one question and followup. If the question is nuanced — and from smart reporters, it usually is — you can’t get a proper explanation. In normal times, he’d be working from his office at city hall where “hallway jibber-jabber with staff or politicians can often lead to stories. Working from home doesn’t offer the same dynamic.”

Tough situations like the pandemic inevitably prompt attempts at “message control” too. The officials at a news conference are the spokespeople; no one else is meant to share information. Yet so many people — nurses, cops, construction workers, clerks — do difficult work on the ground, witnessing day-to-day battles or performing small miracles. They often must decline comment. It can be a battle to sweep aside officialese for deeper understanding.

Reporter Gord Holder, happily, had the opposite experience. He’d waited months for Carleton University to name the new head coach of the Ravens women’s basketball team. When, this week, the athletics department announced Dani Sinclair as that person, it provided direct contacts for the people he needed to interview. Less media management, not more. Being able to speak directly with the new coach “helped produce a better, more complete story,” he wrote.

Meanwhile, journalists are also witnessing a psychological shift caused by physical distancing. “People remain friendly, but there is a wariness about the necessity of what we do,” observed photographer Julie Oliver. She was recently screamed at by an upset woman as she took photos at the opening of the COVID-19 testing centre in Winchester. “I understood her frustration and fear,” Oliver wrote. “To be honest, I’d rather be working from home too these days.”

But to cover people and events well, “you need to connect quickly so they trust you’re there to tell their story honestly,” Oliver said. “These days, I call people before I arrive and ask them to come outside to shoot photos. As I stand there, setting up with my gloves on from a safe distance while making idle small talk, quite often we all just shake our heads and start to laugh. So there’s that.

“There’s still laughter, thank God, amidst this nightmare.”