Please Happy

The hills surrounding L.A. are literally on fire. In West Hollywood, it smells like Tanzania. That is, like burning.

Driving to dinner at J’s uncle’s house last night, I snapped this pic with my iPhone.

The out-of-control wildfire in the Angeles National Forest has burned more than 35,000 acres and, as the wind changes, is threatening residential communities in the canyons around the forest.

The LA Times has a wonderful, if frightening, photo essay as well as continuous written updates. ABC has an interactive map (screenshot below). And Twitter, as usual, has tons of tweats: #fire.

People are also buzzing about a pic called The Light At the Top Of The Smoke Cloud.

If it’s smoky down here, I can only imagine the air up there. Sending love to all the people.

Life is crazy. Got no time. Thinking of posting a simple iPhone pic every day. This is J’s aunt’s house, where I live. I spend time with Yogi, the old puppy who poops on the floor. I drink morning coffee, French pressed, and retreat to the fan-cooled silence of my own room. It’s home. My West Hollywood refuge.

My sister was driving my car when she got smashed from behind by a Dodge Ram. She’s OK, but we’re worried that she may suffer future ouchies from this, which is especially bad because she depends on her body for work. She’s a dancer.

As I said in the last post, her accident is a perfect metaphor for Jackson Hole to Los Angeles. But, it’s not a sign that I should move back. My friend E says this city has a way of telling us “Just so you know, this isn’t going to be easy.”

Her boyfriend witnessed someone getting shot in the back at 10 a.m. on a busy street. And, while E’s mom thinks that means he should get outta town, he’s now even more motivated to make it work here, and accept the craziness of this place.

I think my sister had the same reaction. And, despite the car accident, the traffic tickets, the heat, the hours in front of the computer while she was here, Anna and I had a wonderful time together. And, I think everyone I love should move here.

Here’s the pic she included in a group email to the fam. It’s called Ice Pack Quarterback.

Everything is OK, everyone is OK. Details later, but this is The Most Perfect metaphor for the transition from Jackson Hole to Los Angeles.

Originally written for USC’s Annenberg School for Communication & Journalism.

Photo from JamieSanford via Flickr.

Last year, I wrote a 3,000-word article about land reclamation. Princes, politicians and planners the world over were (and are) literally creating cities like Dubai and others by filling in swamps for airport terminals, transforming dumps into mixed-use communities and sculpting islands in the sea from sand and rock.

Writing for an international business audience, I reported mostly on the construction process and the resulting amenities. I also included the politics, players, environmental considerations and human rights issues (Human Rights Watch, for example, has criticized the United Arab Emirates government for allegedly allowing companies to exploit their migrant workforces – withholding wages, denying medical care and propagating poor working conditions). The day before it went to press I received this email:

I called you yesterday because I wanted to check with you about one specific cut I had to make in the Land Reclamation story–the part about human rights issues in Dubai.

The article is still very good, but I wanted to try to make sure you still wanted your name on it.

Normally this wouldn’t even be something we’d ask the writer about, but we (the editors) all felt the content should stay and that it made the article even better. A presidential veto, let’s say, over passed our opinions, though. …

At the time, I was freelancing. I was creating my own brand, operating as an independent contractor, an island, a seemingly autonomous entity. What were my options? I worked hard on the story, interviewed professors in Pakistan, experts in Singapore, studied articles about the rise of the aerotropolis. I had spent months researching and several weeks writing, and I was proud of my work.

I argued with the editor.

His hands were tied, he said.

So, I kept the byline. If I were Jay Rosen, I would have published the original story on my blog, and thousands would have seen it. My initial tweat would have garnered enough outrage and attention that the publisher would have changed his mind (or pulled the story completely). My audience would demand that I speak more loudly, or boycott the business magazine entirely. In Rosen’s world, magazines like this one would go under in a hurry, and the eloquent voices of story tellers like me would rise up.

But, we’re not quite there. The magazine still exists and still publishes stories about new convention centers, new marketing deals, new opulent meeting rooms the world over. (And, I have in my portfolio, as one of my writing mentors calls it, a “blow job story.”) The story remains incomplete; it’s a story about one-fifth of the world’s cranes with no mention of the operators.

What should I have done?

As a freelancer, I mistakenly thought I was an independent entity, separate not only from audience, but also from commercial control. But, as Professor Suro pointed out, freelancers live in denial. Freelancers cannot walk into the office the next day and complain or fight. We are the opposite of autonomous.

Our readings (Glasser, Gunther and Ettema) and class discussions suggest that we’re moving away from this “presidential veto model,” away from advertisers dictating stories, and away even from making story decisions in our own “moral universe of one.” We’re moving away from deciding what to cover with little conversation with our audience.

The solution? The future? The Blog. Build what Rosen calls Little First Amendment Machines. Try to gain a bigger audience than Dad and boyfriend. And start the discussion the magazine and advertisers don’t want the world to have. Tell your audience what you think they ought to know about migrant workers in Dubai. See what they say. What stories come forth. Start the discussion. Write well. And hope someone is listening, hope someone is there to contribute, challenge and talk back.

After that land reclamation and development story was published, I never heard from the magazine again. Maybe I should post the original now.

Originally written for USC Annenberg School for Communication & Journalism.

“Don’t be afraid to be an advocacy journalist,” Anat Rubin said. “In fact, I urge you to be.”

The award-winning former reporter made a name for herself in this “homeless capital of the US” by covering “what no one was covering” on skid row, an area known for its dense homeless population. She worked for the Daily Journal, but has since taken a post as policy analyst for LAMP community, a non-profit housing provider.

Rubin took a group of us students on a “skid row tour,” which included a walk through the neighborhood and visits to the LA Community Action Network and the Skid Row Housing Trust. She described a bleak situation for the homeless community. Countless people have been pushed out (often arrested) through the “Safer Cities Initiative.” While Mayor Villaraigosa and the LAPD claim the initiative is meant to address social conditions that contribute to crime, Rubin argues that it’s hardly targeting criminals, but instead criminalizing homelessness. Our speakers echoed her sentiments.

If the homeless had access to housing, she argued, people could start to address the underlying causes of their chronic homelessness: mental health, drug addiction, and primary health, among others. Housing first, then services. Rubin told stories about people getting arrested for petty crimes in the name of cleaning up the streets. She told stories of feeling safer in the formerly densely populated tent cities than in the now, “safer” streets. She lamented the overcrowded jails full of people who need health care, counseling and rehab.

So, is she an advocate or a journalist or both? And, what should we, as Journalists of the Future aim to be?

Sandy Tolan tells us to hit the streets and dig deep. Ask questions. Diane Winston says to reject the He Said, She Said Argument. Our journalism mentors say we have the tools to find The Truth. We should think of our readers as smart people who want to know what is really happening. Winston, Jay Rosen and others argue that the He Said, She Said (the police officers said, the homeless people said) argument is frustrating and leaves the reader helpless and disempowered.

But, what about questioning ALL sides? When is journalism truth seeking, and when is it taking a personal passion and agenda to the public? And, is this OK?

If I were taking over Rubin’s beat at The Journal, would I make more of an effort to give the police a voice, would I keep digging to expose more crime statistics, more stories of encroaching “gentrification” dictating homeless policy in skid row? I don’t know.

I want to tell good stories, truthful stories. But, I don’t yet know what heeding Rubin’s advice will look like for me, personally. And I don’t yet know if I agree with her entirely. I don’t yet know how to avoid the He Said She Said in my stories about ranchers and wolf advocates, or developers and farmers or gas companies and antelope advocates. But, maybe that’s her point. Stories aren’t just about two sides. They’re not just about giving everyone equal say. Sometimes it’s about giving the public a chance to hear someone’s story who has never had a say at all.