QOTD: How to Respond to Teens Attacking Adults in SW DC

According to NBC (thanks DCist for the link), last week a woman was assaulted "for fun" a couple of blocks from what will be my new home. The article also mentions that teenagers jumped a police officer in front of the nearby CVS after he asked them why they were not in school. The teens stole his radio and tried to take his gun. A month ago an elderly man died after being beat up by teenagers in the same area.

While I know my current neighborhood is hardly the safest place in the world, the majority of the violence I have witnessed here involved black teenagers and young adults fighting with each other. As a white woman who is friendly but largely uninvolved in my neighbors' worlds, the worst I ever received was some benign drunken harrassment and a few young boys hitting on me. Almost all of my interactions with my neighbors here have been positive, even when I was digging into things some people would rather not talk about.

Seeing articles like this makes me wonder if the same thing will work in my new neighborhood.

I've already spent some time in Southwest. While the street I'm going to live on seems sleepy and quiet, plenty of people (including teenagers) hang out on the stoops just a few blocks over. There is also a very obvious income gap between my section of the neighborhood and theirs. On the one side, multi-story, expensive-looking rowhouses sheltered by tall, old trees and fronted by carefully maintained gardens line the streets. On the other, short, small, identical homes squat along treeless streets with waist-height chain-link fences and clothes lines in the back. My section of the neighborhood is mixed race; the other section seems to be almost all black.

The split in the neighborhood lies along 3rd Street SW, next to the commercial area that includes Safeway, the Metro, the CVS and Bank of America trailers, and the dirt pit that will become the new Waterside Mall. As the NBC article mentions, plenty of teenagers hang out in front of the stores there. I've said hello to them and laughed at their jokes, but I've never questioned them or challenged their right to be there as the police officer did.

When I move to Southwest I plan to start reporting on the area. This means, at a minimum, I will be walking around and talking to everyone I meet, getting to know who lives there, who works there, who hangs out, and what their stories are. Including the teenagers. Inevitably some people will disagree with the articles that come out of these conversations.

Years ago in Texas several of my guy friends realized that they could not stop me from going into places they saw as dangerous. Long before I took a Sociology class or wrote an article, I walked into places others labeled "The Barrio" or "that crack house" just to talk to the people who lived there. My friends' reaction, in typical Texas fashion, was to give me easily concealed weapons and teach me how to seriously injure or kill someone.

Inscription: "(Heart) for Chris with love"

I never had to use these weapons, and I stopped carrying them when I started needing to pass metal detectors to get into the libraries in DC. I also stopped carrying them because I don't want to wind up accidentally killing or crippling someone over a misunderstanding or pretty theft. To me, losing my wallet is not worth someone else's life.

On the other hand, I don't want to end up with my hands held behind my back by one teenager as another one beats me up just for walking down the street. Being able to throw the person holding me would be great in this instance, but would having a weapon like a knife, a night stick, pepper spray, or even a gun help? I don't know.

What do you think? Should I start bearing arms and really practicing martial arts again, or are my best defenses being aware, making friends, and talking my way through the situations I find myself in? Do I realistically need to worry about this more in Southwest than in Columbia Heights?

QOTD: Keepsakes

Nearly a week after the election Obama still dominates not just the news, but the news about the news. Today on Romenesko, a Poynter Institute blog, I found links to four more stories about the number of post-election day copies various newspapers sold. While I completely understand the cash-strapped newspaper industry's ecstasy at the windfall these sales represent, I wonder what will happen to these "pieces of history."

Like many Americans, I'm about to downsize. The crisp commemorative paper I stood in line for is lying on top of a pile of things I haven't sorted through yet: birthday gifts, parts from four different cameras, clothes I need to mend, and a dresser full of beads and crafting materials. In my living room I've heaped almost half of the clothes from my closet, all either too small, too big, not quite my color, or no longer remotely in style (bare midriff tank tops anyone?).

(No, I wasn't kidding.)

I still have the rest of two closets, two rooms, a bathroom, and a file cabinet to clean out by Thanksgiving. For someone who moved here with little more than three suitcases four years ago, I've managed to accumulate an impressive mass of "semi-useful" things.

While some of these items easily separate into piles of wheat (unused light bulbs) and chaff (frayed old purses), I stumbled across a box of memories last night that ground my sorting process to an instant halt. Worthless to anyone else, each cheap bauble in this colorful collection of activist buttons, old jewelry, Girl Scout pins, notes, and pictures represents something I don't ever want to give up -- even if I have no idea what I want to do with it.

The door to my new home is hardly the eye of a needle, and I'm sure all the belongings I wish to bring will fit through it when push comes to shove. Maybe. If I get rid of about half of them. But instead of thinking about that, I can't help picturing the new things I want to get, like a big enough frame to allow the triumphant gray paper portrait of Victorious Obama and Family to hang out on the wall next to my boyfriend's Magna Carta of King John... It would be so sad to fold it into yet another box tucked away in the closet, waiting for something unknown.

I'm sure my minimalist boyfriend is laughing as he reads this, but he, too, has his treasured collection of books and random large cooking implements. Everyone has something, right?

If you got a paper on Nov. 5, what are you planning on doing with it? What other things do you keep? And does anyone have any clue where to find a frame that will fit an unfolded newspaper???

So there was this shooting...

(Photo has been cropped and rotated.)

At 7:35 p.m. on August 16, 2008, the cacaphony of a gun battle shattered a seemingly normal Saturday afternoon. But the backdrop wasn't Bagdad, the Gaza strip, or even Detroit; it was apartment complexes and townhouses with neatly groomed gardens right across the intersection from my window. And it happened in broad daylight, with people out walking dogs and kids everywhere.

Journalism has given me an excuse to dispense with any instincts of self-preservation and common sense I might have had before (strong emphasis on might). So, instead of watching from my window like everyone else, I rushed downstairs and plunged headfirst into an eruption of tensions that have been simmering in my neighborhood since before I came to this city four years ago.

A little over two weeks later the blog Prince of Petworth agreed to publish my article about the shooting and what happened next, calling it "the definitive account" of the events of Aug. 16. You can find that article here.

Baptism by gunfire wasn't what I thought I was signing up for when I started freelancing, but something about reporting this story felt completely natural. Not easy, but right. And while I didn't manage to get this particular article into a paper, I came the closest I've ever been, and I know a heck of a lot more about how to do my job now than I did three weeks ago.

An editor I met while interviewing people on the street said she told her partner that night that I was "a natural" at crime reporting. She also said I didn't need grad school. We'll see.

GRDC #1: Firsts and the attack of the killer reporter's notebook

Ed note: Ever have life pick you up by the scruff of the neck, shake you side to side for a bit, then put you back down again in a totally different place? This post is coming out almost 3 weeks after I wrote it because some of my neighbors decided to celebrate the afternoon with semi-automatic weapons just as I finished writing. See the next post for more details, but let's just say that the first six words here were prescient.

Post written 8/16/08

Today was a day of firsts: the first-ever showcase for the first-ever GirlsRock! DC rock camp for girls, the first performance for each of the eight bands and two DJs, and many of the girls’ first time performing the instruments they touched for the first time on Monday. It was also my first time slipping a “visitor media” tag around my neck as I walked into the 9:30 Club, squeezing through the crowd around the stage to shoot photos, and interviewing real, live band members. I think the girls may have been more nervous than I was, but it was hard to be sure.

Others have already written about rock camp and the amazing things the campers have done this week, culminating in the showcase I saw today on a stage that many bands only dream of setting foot on. My next few posts will have interviews, stories, and photos from the showcase, but I wanted to take a moment to write about my experience as well.

At just after 10:45 this morning I walked past the double line stretching around the club's corner and stepped right up to the doors. No ticket needed; I just called Ebony Dumas, Media/Events/PR Co-Chair for GirlsRock! DC, and she handed me a press badge at the door that let me come and go as I pleased.

My memory from then on is a bit of a blur. I shot hundreds of pictures, many of which didn't come out (see below). I managed to almost run over the same fifteen people at least twelve times as I dodged through the crowd between the stage and the interview area. I got to the interview area twice just to watch band members scampering away to hang out upstairs with their friends. I finally managed to catch Allegra from The Burning Flowers, which quickly turned into a four-way interview with her and her friends. As I finished with her, the girls from Jam Session came out, and I interviewed first one, then two, then four of them plus their band coach, Jeanni Centofanti, at the same time. Then it was back to the stage to get some photos, round to the interview room again to meet up with Ebony to go backstage, and suddenly it was all over. Two and a half hours in a blink of an eye.

I walked out of the club more hyper than a sugar-high six year old, slightly dazed, sweaty, ears ringing, and somehow covered in pen marks.

Now that my heart rate has slowed down some, I have a few lessons learned. Number one: I NEED A BETTER CAMERA. I’ve known for a while that my point-and-shoot is pretty puny as far as cameras go, but the combination of darkness, lots of motion on stage, and my slightly unsteady hand completely overwhelmed its meager capabilities. The camera only has one setting that could capture both the lighting and the performers on stage, and it requires a slightly longer exposure, which means absolutely no motion. In a jostling crowd that was simply impossible, so the resulting shots were about as clear as a college freshman’s eyesight at 3 a.m. on a Saturday.
(Picture has been cropped) The effect was oddly appropriate for the band Global Rave, but not so much elsewhere.

My camera also has an agonizingly slow shutter speed, which in a performance situation meant that I missed many of the coolest moments--such as when the frontwoman in Poison Control overcame her initial shyness and stepped up onto one of the speakers to touch the fingertips of her screaming new fans.

Lesson learned number two: I should learn more about the bands before I get to the concert. Granted, normally bands aren’t formed five days before they headline at the 9:30 Club, but it's entirely possible I'll get another interview opportunity with only half a day's notice. I could have made a couple of calls and pumped my camp counselor friends for info; it would have been nice to at least know the girls’ names before they stepped out under the stage lights. As it was, the only time I could talk to band members was after their sets and while other bands played. As mentioned above, I did manage to catch the drummer from The Burning Flowers and the members of Jam Session, so look for more on those bands over the next couple of days.

Lesson learned number three: trying to photograph bands on stage at the same time as I'm trying to interview other bands back stage is difficult. Now I know why reporters and photographers are usually a team, not one person. Unfortunately the set-up was beyond my control, but maybe next time I could bring a friend to shoot photos or just pick one or two bands ahead of time. Or bring a pedometer so I know just how many calories I'm working off as I run back and forth through the crowd.

Lesson learned number four may be a lost cause: unless I can somehow remember to put the cap back on my pen, I will probably end up tattooing my right forearm every time I do this. But hey, dignity’s a small price to pay for a great story, right?


Of course, the biggest lesson learned was pretty obvious: no matter how much I may convince myself I don’t know what I’m doing, in the end, none of that matters. I love this stuff and I can’t wait to do it again!

Interviews, pics, and stories from the showcase coming soon. :)

Change in plans

Last week I decided I definitely want to go to grad school for journalism. No more dithering around, wincing away from the cost and the hemmorraghing local papers, or dragging my feet over taking out more student loans. It might be next fall, it might be two years from now, but I'm going. After, you know, I study for the GRE, take the GRE, track down my old professors to get recommendation letters, put together a portfolio of clips, apply and all the other fun stuff that goes with that.

Last week I also heard from my boss that we're getting another huge case in, and that I probably have a fair amount of overtime coming my way in the near future. While this will hopefully help pay for grad school, it also means I'll have even less time to prepare.

The combination of these two things has forced me to admit there's no way I'm going to have time to blog regularly in the forseeable future. Or play softball. (Sorry team!) I'll continue to post links to my clips on this site, but I probably won't be writing any posts specifically for this site any time soon. Let me know in the comments (or email) if you'd like me to email you whenever I publish something new.

Thank you all for your continued encouragement and interest in my writing!

-Chris

Why I hate the nightly news

As a prospective journalist, is it bad that I don’t even have my television plugged in 99 percent of the time?

I’ve often wondered if I’m kind of a throwback because I’m not interested in watching TV, being on TV, writing for TV, or even producing broadcast-like content for websites. When I first considered journalism as a career, many of the media professionals I met seemed to confirm this impression. They seemed to believe that mixed-media journalists who could produce their own clips are the wave of the future, and print-only writers are on the fast track to extinction.

One reporter in particular passionately exhorted me to enroll in the Interactive Journalism program at American University. There, she told me, I would learn to report while armed with a digital video camera, a recorder, and a laptop at all times. A mobile journalist, or “mojo,” herself, she believed that the ability to stick a microphone in anyone’s face and aggressively go after the sound bite on camera would be a big factor in determining any young journalist's future success.

While I agree that a good quote or a good clip can make a story, this approach to interviewing -- for a sound bite -- turns me off.

First, I view interviews as a part of finding out a story, and I don't ever approach one thinking I know everything someone is going to say. If I try to get only the words I want to hear out of someone's mouth, I'm not really interviewing them; I'm interviewing my projection of them. While this may not have been exactly what the reporter I spoke with meant, it frightens me that the news other young journalists are being told to find is only the news that they expect to be there.

Second, the neater the news is, the more manufactured it seems to me, just as the more the person who’s telling me the news looks like a mannequin (male or female), the less likely I am to believe them. And if I don’t believe the news on TV, why would I expect someone else to swallow it just because I started writing it?

The more I've thought about it, the more this difference in viewpoints has become symbolic to me of why my television sits dark and silent in my living room.

But maybe there’s hope for people like me. According to this article, I’m far from alone in despising broadcast news.

If I’m not the only one who’d rather not touch the nightly news with a ten foot pole, it stands to reason that there are other people out there doing more interesting things with video journalism. It’s even possible that viewers fed up with the ratings-based coverage choices would be interested in watching them. Which could mean that, given the current status of the media world at large, maybe we’ll see some evolution soon.

Bottom line: the journalists I cited at the beginning of this post do have a point. Even if I'm no more interested in being the next Colbert than I am in being the next Couric, even if my approach to interviewing is not totally sound bite-centric, and even if my television stays unplugged, it would still be a good idea for me to learn how to use a camera. If I want to participate in whatever the media world is changing into, I should learn how to use the tools of the trade. After all, my problem is not really with those tools; it's with what news stations are currently doing with them. It's even possible that, by the time I'm ready, the media world might want the types of clips I'd be proud to create.

So... home video projects, anyone?