Last week, my husband’s coworker came back to work for the first time since she was shot. It was, to put it harshly, about one month after everyone stopped caring about the shooting.
As was the case for many people in the DC area, the Navy Yard shooting affected my family deeply. My husband worked in the building where the shooting took place every day for over a year. He was not there on that day, but it didn’t make it any less unnerving. If the shooting had taken place just a month or two earlier, he would surely have been.
For my husband and I, the Navy Yard shooting is still a specter that hangs over our lives. We don’t think of our offices as safe anymore. And yet, our daily fear isn’t going to make any headlines; and hasn’t since September 19. The modern news cycle works like a searchlight, one journalism theory goes, hovering briefly over one event before moving on to the next new thing.
In the backs of our minds, we realize that there are still people to whom previous shootings like Newtown, Aurora, and even Virginia Tech are always going to be front page news, especially if they lost a loved one. As the searchlight of the media moves ceaselessly onward, there are those of us who get left behind.
If I weren’t such a geek, I’d probably call my theory of Otaku Journalism “The Human Being’s Guide to Reporting.” I think humanity is what’s missing in the modern media. There’s always a personal story behind front page news, and I don’t think it’s one that should be discarded after just a day. Because events like Monday’s Nevada school shooting aren’t just about the facts.
Shootings are ordinary now. But not the people involved. John’s coworker is a woman with a story. At her welcome back party, she talked about feeling the presence of God while she was lying there with a gunshot wound. She talked about telling off Joe Biden when he came to visit her in the hospital. Hearing about her passion, anger, and tenacity is riveting.
The searchlight theory of news says that journalists cover events only briefly and superficially because this is what the audience wants. Does anyone really believe that? Just like fiction, journalism is best when it’s about people. Take this great report from The Verge about vaccine deniers, whom I’ve always regarded as a bunch of crazies. This article humanizes them, and made me realize that they’re not malicious people, just terrified for their children’s health.
I also love what journalist Laurie Penny says about the importance of relating to her audience. “One of my least favourite things… is to be told I need to ‘grow a thick skin.’ I’m a writer. A thick skin is literally the last thing I need.”
Just imagine the drop in troll comments that could result from journalists who appeal to their audiences’ humanity. And the synchronous increase in cultural understanding.
There’s always room for empathy in the news.
(Photo by Charles Dharapak, AP.)
2 Comments.
There I times when I really wish you had a “like” button on your posts like the WordPress blogs do. I don’t always have much to say, but I want to give some sign of acknowledgement. This is one of those times. I missed this post when you first wrote it, but now that you listed it among the year’s top ten, I find myself nodding in agreement to a lot of it, including that “Just like fiction, journalism is best when it’s about people.” That applies to just about every kind of writing. It’s something I love about blogs, including this one – the person writing doesn’t feel the need to write themselves out or squash their humanity. We get to see your unique perspective, and you in turn share what you’ve learned about others’ perspectives. I’m glad your husband’s coworker is alright. And I’m a little envious of your ability to hear her stories. Those kinds of stories, the ones that are built in the weeks after a tragedy, show more of a person’s personality, and they don’t often get told when the mass media has already moved onto the next big event.
There, see? The lack of a “like” button made me blab on longer than I wanted to.
@Annalyn, has it occurred to you that maybe I don’t have likes on here to inspire people like you to leave comments? =D =D =D
In all seriousness, I post each article on Facebook, Twitter, and Tumblr, too, so you can just press “like” on them in any of those places if you’re pressed for time. But still, thank you so much for sharing. This was a very personal article for me, and I’m glad it resonated with you.