[018] "To Be Our Own Media"
NEIGHBOURS v1: On the remaking of local journalism based on listening, and the refrains of longing left behind by Google Autocomplete.
Hello, Tired Ones,
Another week, another sign of life, another reason that showing up’s still worth it.
In my work as a writer and “helping professional” in Tkaronto (Toronto), I come across important stories about progress that seems to be actually working for people.
Stories that help me to remember: before there was bureaucratic care, or self-care, there was simply, well, care.
So come on in, pour yourself a tea. For the next few minutes at least, I’ve got you.
February’s care workers: Neighbourhood storytellers
“When will I/ When will I die/ When will I see you again…”
Sourcing notes: Photo by Arisa Chattasa on Unsplash, with caption by this week’s poet, Annina Lehmann.
—
I’m experimenting with the format a bit this week, in that I:
stretched the meaning of “ambient” music,
cut back on my hifalutin analysis in favour of a case study and practical tool, and
included a dare. A dare!
Beyond that, I’m putting some thought into who defines the audience I’d like to build. It has something to do with workers whose empathy has been commoditized within what gets broadly termed “the helping professions.”
I’ve been preoccupied with how to reclaim that lifeforce for any purpose other than, you know, capital accumulation. For all the talk of “frontline work,” it’s not something I see covered very often from a personal or interior perspective.
In the Coronaverse times, where are you getting your news about the quote-unquote ✨rEaL eXpErIeNcEs✨ of others in your field? Please leave me and the others your clues in the comments.
Some ambience, to set the mood
"Waking up the neighbours, a dawn chorus in Glenshee, Scotland in June 2019" by Neil Verma, for the podcast Field Recordings. February 1, 2020.
A radio producer releases as a sensibly-titled recording for this sensibly-titled podcast – and it really is a helpful way to start the day for this city-dweller. Listen to more.
A healthy idea, to chew on
What Journalism Can Learn From Mutual Aid, by Darryl Holliday for Columbia Journalism Review. Winter 2020.
On the remaking of local journalism, and the evolved skillset of listening that’s needed for reporters to actually be useful:
This spring, as the coronavirus ravaged the United States, mutual aid groups proliferated. […] At the same time, governments and medical institutions became overwhelmed, and I saw neighbors spring into action to meet the needs of their communities. These self-organized networks distributed masks and medical supplies, delivered groceries and packages, provided child and elder care, and transferred cash. Groups of clergy members, death doulas, therapists, social workers, and healers offered mourning support for those who had lost loved ones.
The rise of mutual aid solidarity networks has resulted from untenable economic disparity and social breakdown. That should tell journalists something we badly need to hear: when government and civic institutions fail to provide equal benefits across society, marginalized people will create new systems. The news industry is no exception. Black Lives Matter Chicago, in an August report on police violence committed against protesters, put it bluntly: “We have to be our own media.” Their words underlined the fact that the dominant system of information-sharing in place in this country is badly broken.
Journalists tend to think of themselves as individual talents; driven by their own intrepid instincts, they find and uncover the stories of others. Instead, we should think of our work as one element within an interconnected ecosystem of social services. […]
In the coming months and years, as each community in the US navigates four interrelated crises—systemic racism, a global pandemic, economic depression, and ecological disaster—journalism will need to adapt. As I witnessed the collective efforts taking shape around me this summer, I considered, not for the first time, the role that journalists occupy in a community—and our failure to address the fundamental human needs within it. I wondered: What is the mutual aid equivalent for local news? […]
In the absence of professional journalism—in so-called news deserts across the country—critical information systems are left to the algorithmic biases of a few social media giants. Dig further, though, and you’ll find block club newsletters, school newspapers, library workshops, public access broadcasts, grassroots community teach-ins, and barbershop conversations that are for and of communities. Mutual aid efforts suggest a way forward, a new type of newsroom that serves as the nerve center for local information hubs by reflecting and connecting the people it serves, prioritizing lived experience and disavowing the notion of objective gatekeeping. […]
To survive the upheaval of 2020, journalists must relearn much of what we know. […] The journalists we need today are not heroic observers of crisis—they are conveners, facilitators, organizers, educators, on-demand investigators, and community builders. Most of all, they strengthen the systems that make communities resilient.
A good practice, to save for later
To Be Our Own Media—and Strengthen The Systems That Make Communities Resilient.
A problem: Traditional newsrooms are detached from the communities that have the most at stake in local stories.
An experimental solution: Indiegraf, a recently-launched network of independent and local news outlets in Canada. They lower barriers to entry by helping to prioritize relationships with paid subscribers – with supports like digital tools, mentorship, and access to shared infrastructure.
The Discourse Cowichan provides its journalism for free and invites its most engaged readers to become financial supporters. Here’s the secret to how Jacqueline [Ronson]’s team delivers journalism valuable enough people will pay for it: they ask their community what to cover. They don’t report on everything (no local sports and little crime reporting). They don’t crank out surface-level stories in pursuit of traffic. They only dig into stories their community really needs and they don’t waste money on anything else.
Further reading: Indiegraf aims to reimagine the newspaper chain for digital news outlets, by Sarah Scire at Nieman Journalism Lab. May 27, 2020.
Q: How do I… Listen well before getting started?
A: The Listening Post Collective Playbook, a project of Internews. To help journalists and community groups listen to and engage with their communities. It’s well organized, thoughtful, and helpfully nudges you towards small actions and crucial reflection at every step. I like this tip under step 1, “Choose A community”:
Question your own motivation. Take time to establish relationships with people in the community who share your vision and who can confirm that there is a real need for such a project. If there’s an existing project with similar goals, ask how you can support their work first, before exploring your own ideas.
“To be our own media.”
A dare, for your own amusement
It’s lonely out there in lockdown.
I dare you to record something with your phone that’s a distinct sound from your day-to-day life lately. Then, send the audio file (or WhatsApp voice memo) to a friend you haven’t talked to since the pandemic began. Provide no context until they reply.
If you do it, let us know what it sparked in the comments.
A poem, to cleanse the palate
“Google Oracle” by Annina Lehmann, a radio piece produced for the show Shortcuts on BBC Radio 4 (“The Question”). August 25, 2020.
It begins:
When will I
When will I die
When will I see you again
On the search terms generated by Google Autocomplete, and the refrains of longing they leave behind:
When will I get my state pension
When will I ovulate
When will I be famous
When will I be able to travel again
When will I fly again
When will I meet my soulmate
When will I die calculator
When will I feel baby move
WhenWhen will you
When will you die
When will you be able to fly again
When will you learn
When will you be able to drive cars in fortnight
When will you be able to book a driving test
When will you be able to see family
When will you crack
When will you be able to go on holiday again
When will you be able to visit family
When will you feel baby move
When
Something sweet, for the road
And now, a very happy baby—once the cameras are around, anyway.
That's all for this week.
Remember: Drink when you're thirsty, nap when you can.
Kind regards,
Chris Connolly
Manager, Personalized Care
(Acting Director, Standardized Care)
Humane Resources Division
The Dept. of Emotional Labour