The Gospel of Journalism

"Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned..." - Romans 5:12 (ESV)

The idea of "federal headship" has become more real to me recently.

Rejection has been the most frequently inflicted pain since this quarter started. No, not the unrequited-love kind, but the interviewing kind.

I could probably go on for at least 29 paragraphs detailing all of the times I have asked people for an interview only to be rejected. I understand, for the most part. After all, time is precious and it's difficult to imagine many people whose pulses quicken at the thought of sharing their thoughts and being quoted by a journalism student. (I've found that tossing the word "graduate" in there doesn't do much good.)

Last Saturday, I was attempting to interview people at a local 7-Eleven. One lady rejected me and later told me, approximately, "Most people don't want to talk with you because of those people before you who twisted people's quotes around."

I nodded and understood. I had no rebuttal.

It's frustrating enough to be repeatedly rejected by people, but to know that it has just as much, if not more to do with the journalists who preceded me...that really broils my biscuits.

I am starting off at the bottom of the slope, right from the outset. I am guilty until proven innocent. It's left to me to build up and gain credibility, not to merely maintain it.

The sins of those before me have made me disreputable.

And I feel it when some people immediately turn their eyes away or cough when I utter the word "journalism."

So, what can be done about this?

1) Earn it: I can turn my back on the lengthy history of journalistic sins and try my damndest to redeem the whole profession myself, so to speak. I'd have to put blinders on and take care of my own credibility. I would have to try to build up a pristine record and maintain it until the day I die. It's virtually impossible, of course, but I could try. Still, this does nothing to deal with the root issue. It only gives me an empty motivation that does little to redeem the reputation of the profession, and sets a bar far too high for me to overcome.

2) Forgiveness: I could hope that all the heartstrings of every citizen in the world would somehow be pulled in the direction of forgiveness towards every single journalist who has thus far sullied the reputation of the profession. However, if this happened at 11:45:00 p.m. tonight, it's effect would be quashed at 11:45:01 p.m., when some journalist somewhere will have made another blunder, thus marring the profession anew. Again, this does not deal with the root problem.

3) Bliss: Ignore the problem altogether. All parties would try to turn a blind mind's eye to the matter and go on from there. This is probably the most cowardly of options, and does nothing to uproot the problem.

4) A flame deluge: The profession of journalism could be purged from society. Bad for a number of reasons, and I say that with the utmost objectivity. This is using a shotgun to kill a weed - the root remains.

There are countless other options, of course, but they all fall short.

Now, I could try to imagine a scenario where a perfect, reputable journalist would appear and take the blame for all of the profession's missteps - past, present and future. He would not only take the blame, but would claim to be the author of each mistake - past, present and future - and would take the consequences upon himself. He would assume the guise of every single faulty journalist - past, present and future - and would trade his spotless résumé for their blotted ones.

After he was prosecuted - harshly, I would imagine - the problem would have been properly resolved, the profession would be guiltless and interviews would come more easily for journalism students.

Those that would accept me as faultless would accept the solution, while those that would not accept me, in spite of the exchange, would, in effect, reject the solution. It would no longer reflect on me, but on the one who exchanged places with me.

Obviously, there are incredibly huge gaps between this scenario and the Gospel itself that make this illustration all but useless, but to think that this plot, in its essence, has actually played out in a much deeper, profound way, on a grander stage makes me pause, with gratitude.

And as I think about this, new roots begin to grow in me - further up and further in.

"Therefore, as one trespass led to condemnation for all men, so one act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all men. For as by the one man's disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man's obedience the many will be made righteous." - Romans 5:18-19

I love to have written

On Friday we had a guest lecturer (Bob McClory) come in and talk to our class about feature writing. It was fantastic. He was an old guy who had a wealth of experiences and stories to share, which was great. It reminded me a bit of why I wanted to head into journalism in the first place. I really needed it.

Anyway, he quoted a lady he knew, who said something that resonated with me...hard. It gave me goosebumps. I looked it up online and found that it actually came from Michael Kanin. Here it is:

"I don't like to write, but I love to have written."

AMEN.

Journalism student stunned by his own ignorance

After his first six days of graduate classes at the Medill School of Journalism, Jason Hahn, 26, was embarrassed by how much he didn't know about writing properly.

***

I just wrote a horrible headline and a lame lede.

I'm only seven days into this quarter, but I have already come to realize that I did not know a damn thing about proper writing. I have full confidence that every blog post I've ever published to the Web was riddled with flagrant errors.

Here are a few things lingering in my mind (in no particular order):

1) I know nothing about commas.
2) Obituary writing is actually a noble, significant craft.
3) I hate AP style.
4) It's amazing how everyone in a classroom can write different headlines and ledes for the same exact story. They're like snowflakes.
5) In college, liberal arts professors hated on Christianity; in graduate school, journalism professors (and 97% of the class) hate on McCain/Palin.
6) It's nice to be in the majority this time.
7) I never thought about journalism as a crucial part of the democratic process.
8) Journalism is a vilified profession, but it has so much potential to be a sublime one.
9) Maybe being an editor wouldn't be such a bad idea.
10) I still don't know what I specifically want to do.

I Quit

For approximately the past 21 months I've had the pleasure of working at [an unnamed search engine]. I thoroughly enjoyed my role there, so it was very difficult to leave my position this past Friday.

Why did I leave?

Because, for some delightfully frustrating reason, I have an itch to pursue a career in journalism that I want to scratch. So, I will be attending [an unnamed graduate school] this coming fall to obtain a Master of Science in Journalism.

I don't particularly enjoy the spot I'm in. To be very honest, I don't think I'll ever find another job that is as accommodating, relaxing, and peaceful as the one I just left. The main thing I'm trying to aim for is a more fulfilling career path through the lens of journalism.

So, Friday was a sad day. I have never had to leave a job that I loved, so it was a strange feeling. It's akin to the feeling of meeting a pretty girl during the summer, only to find that sometime in late August you both have to part ways and head back to your separate realities at your respective schools and homes. I hope that's an allusion that some of you will get.

Leaving my job does make it easier to look forward to graduate school. Once one bridge is burned, the other one begins to look mighty appealing. But for the next few weeks I'll be in a strange limbo, and I'm not looking forward to it.

Alas, my stay at [unnamed search engine] is over, and on Monday I will not be heading into the office to sit at my desk. I am no longer employed there; I am not their employee anymore, and they are no longer my employer. Our relationship is now kaput.

But what if, knowingly or unknowingly, I actually head back to the office on Monday morning and sit at my desk? My co-workers would probably look at me funny and ask me why the heck I was there, and I'd feel and look like a certified schmuck.

What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? By no means! How can we who died to sin still live in it?
Romans 6:1, 2 (ESV)

I've essentially died to my job. My laptop and corporate key card have been returned, my last paycheck was handed to me, and soon my e-mail account, directory listing, and insurance benefits will be done away with. I'm dead to [unnamed search engine].

If I did return on Monday, or any day after that, I'd be a fool.

Yet I find myself continually returning to the offices of sin, though I've already given them a firm notice of my permanent departure. I told them that I quit, for good, that I am moving on to greener, higher ground, but I embarrass myself over and over again by walking back to that same damned desk. Sometimes I know what I'm doing, while other times I find myself sleepwalking there, as if I'm still profoundly connected with my former station.

So, as I wait upon that next phase to come, it appears that I will be repeating the words "I quit" over and over again until that beautiful day when they will finally and truly be fulfilled.

(The photo above has nothing to do with this post. It was just a scene I saw in my backyard today that gave me great joy. I wanted to share it with you.)