As much as I want to make this next piece a little less about The Elements of Journalism and a little more about the item I’m actually reviewing, I can’t deny that Jo Kadlecek’s A Minute Before Friday is an ideal companion to Kovach and Rosenstiel’s text.
K&R have a thorough and valuable philosophy of journalism between the covers of their book, but what good is theory if it cannot be applied? Kadlecek’s novel celebrates K&R’s philosophy in a way that is practical and entertaining.
Minute provides great insight on the discipline of verification. I will be brief in this section, as my review of All the President’s Men addresses this topic thoroughly. Suffice to say that Jonna Lightfoot MacLaughlin’s persistence in chasing the story down dead end after dead end embodies the discipline as K&R envisioned it.
Jonna might be flawed – she can’t pull it together and quit smoking, she can be a real space case at times, and her sense of style is nothing short of hopeless – but if there’s one thing she’s got right, it’s her dedication to the truth. Fledgling and jaded journalists alike should follow her example.
Minute also shows how journalism can fulfill its watchdog duty. In their top ten elements of journalism, K&R include “Journalists must serve as an independent monitor of power.” Jonna learns that the Ivy League school Regal University is laundering money and immediately recognizes the story’s importance.
It’s bigger than her friend/love interest David Rockley’s job, which he lost for investigating these claims. It’s bigger than her own job at the Clarion, which she risks by pursuing the story even after her editor urges her to kill it. It’s bigger than her reputation, which she jeopardizes every time she chases down an informant who has already refused to inform her.
But most importantly, Minute confirms K&R’s fears that “independent journalism may be dissolved in the solvent of commercial communication and synergistic self-promotion: corporatism.” This is precisely the process that begins at the Clarion when Walter Wood arrives from the media firm and takes over.
Jonna’s roommate and coworker Hannah X. Hensley, an even more principled and prodigious reporter than Jonna, is furious when Wood tells her, “The more colorful your stories become, the more likely New Yorkers will pick up the Clarion.”
“The only thing he cares about are dollars, not news,” she rants. Sadly this is the state of affairs in many newsrooms today, whether the medium is print or television. What our culture craves is not news but entertainment. If it’s not sensationalized, no one wants to read or watch it, and therefore no one in news wants to run or air it.
Reporters and news people like Jonna and Hannah exist, but they seem to be few in number. Therefore we must take it upon ourselves to be the kind of journalists we ourselves would trust to tell a story. As Jonna told her subway worker friend, Emma, "There are some big mountains to tackle." But as Emma told Jonna in reply, "That's why you're there. . . . This city needs you."
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Non-Christians Live and Unplugged at Gordon College
Photo: Freshman math major Caitlin Schwanda shows how going against the mainstream evangelical trend at Gordon can make some students feel disconnected.
Sarah Grimes hasn’t been to chapel this semester. Even when she used to go, she said it was like being force-fed a Bible; now it just doesn’t seem relevant. Grimes, a senior sociology major from Terryville, CT, was raised by a Christian family in a Christian sub-culture and studies at a Christian college, but she considers herself a “Christian agnostic” at best.
Students in similar positions pepper the Gordon community, though sparingly. Most of them prefer to keep under the radar. Gordon may be a liberal arts institution, but the non-believers of this evangelical community say they feel a lot of social pressure.
“It’s hard to feel plugged in, even though I love people,” said Grimes. “I feel different. [But] I’m very good at playing the game.” She doesn’t talk about her beliefs with many of her peers, not for fear of judgment but because she doesn’t want them to feel sad for her.
Grimes isn’t the only Gordon student questioning, doubting, or even distancing herself from her childhood faith. “It doesn’t really add up for me,” said a senior philosophy major who asked to remain unidentified. He began to see Christianity as “an emotional substitute for something for which there is no evidence.”
As he excavated his faith in search of answers, the back-burner doubts of his adolescence flared into unpalatable problems. Six months ago he admitted to himself that he wasn’t a Christian anymore – but, like Grimes, he’d rather keep this knowledge to himself.
“[When they know you’re not a Christian,] people already have their minds made up about you and you don’t even know their name,” he said.
This is not to say that non-Christians are utterly alienated at Gordon. The student handbook says this school is to be “an atmosphere of free inquiry,” and students agree that it is. They said most professors allow – indeed, invite – faith-related inquiry in the classroom.
“Gordon is liberal enough,” said Grimes. “It’s not all fire and brimstone. But a lot of people could stand to be more open-minded.”
According to Professor of Christian Ministries Mark Cannister, listening should be the priority in interactions with peers who have different denominational backgrounds or no faith at all. The conversation should not begin with an accusation, but with a question.
“It shouldn’t go, ‘You can’t believe this and that at the same time,’” said Cannister, “but ‘help me understand how you can believe these two things at once.’ People want to be heard. You get a lot more mileage out of asking a question back.”
Zach Capalbo, a sophomore computer science/philosophy major, invites Gordon students to ask a lot of questions. Capalbo, who considers himself a Christian, co-founded the “Atheist Society” to provide a forum where beliefs not normally explored at Gordon can be discussed.
“I’m not even sure what truth is a lot of the time,” said Capalbo. But he is sure that a surprising number of students have expressed interest in the Society. The group is not comprised of atheists, as the name suggests, but of students interested in dialogue – students who want, as Cannister suggested, to listen.
The Society hopes to engage Muslim, Wiccan, neopagan and other beliefs, not by subscribing to them but simply by understanding them. The point is acceptance, not agreement.
Refusal to converse about other beliefs tells those who are different, “there are some people we believe God doesn’t love,” said Cannister. This attitude is the inverse of the gospel evangelicals claim to believe.
The question of world religions is not new to Christians. The query behind the query, according to Cannister, is not “are there other ways to God?” but “are you always right about everything?” The Atheist Society accepts that they might be wrong by engaging other perspectives.
Many of the students who, like Grimes, are questioning their faith grew up in Christian settings. Cannister noted that this seems to be the pattern: students who became Christians in high school tend to be on fire for their faith, while those from Christian homes begin to question it.
“The new Christians are shocked by the complacency of those who grew up Christian,” he said. “There’s diversity of what it means to be Christian.” All of the different histories, denominations, and questions that shape this campus can create tension between the burning and the burnt out.
“I appreciate the Christian setting [at Gordon] because I don’t want to give up the faith,” said Grimes. “Talking about faith is an opportunity here. I don’t want to lose hope. . . . I want to remain in Christianity without necessarily subscribing to it.”
Monday, November 30, 2009
"All the President's Men"
Alan J. Pakula's 1976 movie All the President's Men is a good and bad example of how to do journalism. It is a great testament to the discipline of verification mentioned by Kovach and Rosenstiel in The Elements of Journalism as it highlights the importance of persistence, preparation, and asking the right questions. The movie also wrestles with journalists' "obligation to exercise their personal conscience," another element of journalism discussed by Kovach and Rosenstiel, but in this area the heroes do not always excel.
Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein are flawlessly disciplined in the art of verification (the "essence" of journalism according to K&R). They track thousands of tips, leads, and names to break the Watergate story, following trails one would only expect Sherlock Holmes to find. Librarians and old acquaintances from social events become valuable sources of information. Woodward risks his own safety to meet with his informant, Deep Throat, who gives him specific instructions to keep their contact a secret, while Bernstein is unafraid of tarnishing his reputation by acting pushy if it means tracking down the truth. Together they sort through a year's worth of library records in search of one man's history to confirm that he did research on Senator Kennedy. Although many informants turn them away and the editor wants to kill the story, Bernstein recognizes that "this is a goddamn important story!" and perseveres.
We can also glean from this film the value of preparation. Woodward perpetually has a notepad ready and records even the minutest details in case he should need them later. When the two journalists visit informants at home, they arrive with background knowledge of names, professions, connections, and other relevant information. They never waste time on basic questions; this would be disrespectful of the people whose stories they cover and, especially in the midst of a scandal like this, would fail to get them through the door. Revealing that they have some knowledge prompts some people, such as Kenneth Dalhberg, whose $25,000 check ended up in one of the burglars' accounts, to reveal more information.
Woodward and Bernstein also show us the value of asking the right question. I often find myself going into interviews with a list of questions, thinking it may be a contrived conversation, but at least I'll have something to write about later. Woodward and Bernstein have a knack for choosing just the right question, often on the spot. Sometimes that question can even be the leverage that opens further discussion. "You're a lawyer," Woodward says to Markham in the courthouse. "If no one asked you to be here then why are you here?" Later, when a woman tells Bernstein "people sure are worried," he instantly responds, "which people?" The questions seems so logical and obvious coming from another reporter's mouth, yet I know in the same situation I would not say such a sensible thing.
But the heroes of the film are flawed journalists, too. They both persist in asking questions of informants who insist, often multiple times, that they have nothing to say. This appears to be good reporting until one considers the feelings of the people being questioned. They are uncomfortable and even afraid to reveal their knowledge. Which is more important, respecting the people you cover as you yourself would want to be respected, or serving the greater public by getting the story no matter the cost? K&R say a journalist's first responsibility is to the citizens, but does that eliminate the need for personal sensitivity? K&R also say that "practitioners have an obligation to exercise their personal conscience." It seems Woodward and Bernstein err on the side of insensitivity, as a coworker tells them "I don't have the taste for the jugular that you guys have."
Woodward and Bernstein are also guilty of listening in on phone conversations via a second line and bluffing to get informants to confirm information. They even outright lie, telling one person's wife that their questioning is for her husband's own good. She and they knew that wasn't the case and she called them on it. Both of them draw conclusions very quickly, and while they may be logical and wise conclusions, they're still hastily made. As their editor pointed out, they need facts; the newspaper can't simply print deductions made by reporters based on people's refusals to speak.
Yet overall, these two reporters go far beyond the requirements of the profession (or perhaps just set a standard for the rest of us) in the way they "serve as an independent monitor of power" - yet another essential element of journalism by K&R's standards. In the end they've got more going for them than strikes against them... and one can't forget the fact that they broke one of the biggest stories in journalism's history.
Oh, and everything else aside... the cinematography is really something, so I definitely recommend this film if you have an artistic eye!
Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein are flawlessly disciplined in the art of verification (the "essence" of journalism according to K&R). They track thousands of tips, leads, and names to break the Watergate story, following trails one would only expect Sherlock Holmes to find. Librarians and old acquaintances from social events become valuable sources of information. Woodward risks his own safety to meet with his informant, Deep Throat, who gives him specific instructions to keep their contact a secret, while Bernstein is unafraid of tarnishing his reputation by acting pushy if it means tracking down the truth. Together they sort through a year's worth of library records in search of one man's history to confirm that he did research on Senator Kennedy. Although many informants turn them away and the editor wants to kill the story, Bernstein recognizes that "this is a goddamn important story!" and perseveres.
We can also glean from this film the value of preparation. Woodward perpetually has a notepad ready and records even the minutest details in case he should need them later. When the two journalists visit informants at home, they arrive with background knowledge of names, professions, connections, and other relevant information. They never waste time on basic questions; this would be disrespectful of the people whose stories they cover and, especially in the midst of a scandal like this, would fail to get them through the door. Revealing that they have some knowledge prompts some people, such as Kenneth Dalhberg, whose $25,000 check ended up in one of the burglars' accounts, to reveal more information.
Woodward and Bernstein also show us the value of asking the right question. I often find myself going into interviews with a list of questions, thinking it may be a contrived conversation, but at least I'll have something to write about later. Woodward and Bernstein have a knack for choosing just the right question, often on the spot. Sometimes that question can even be the leverage that opens further discussion. "You're a lawyer," Woodward says to Markham in the courthouse. "If no one asked you to be here then why are you here?" Later, when a woman tells Bernstein "people sure are worried," he instantly responds, "which people?" The questions seems so logical and obvious coming from another reporter's mouth, yet I know in the same situation I would not say such a sensible thing.
But the heroes of the film are flawed journalists, too. They both persist in asking questions of informants who insist, often multiple times, that they have nothing to say. This appears to be good reporting until one considers the feelings of the people being questioned. They are uncomfortable and even afraid to reveal their knowledge. Which is more important, respecting the people you cover as you yourself would want to be respected, or serving the greater public by getting the story no matter the cost? K&R say a journalist's first responsibility is to the citizens, but does that eliminate the need for personal sensitivity? K&R also say that "practitioners have an obligation to exercise their personal conscience." It seems Woodward and Bernstein err on the side of insensitivity, as a coworker tells them "I don't have the taste for the jugular that you guys have."
Woodward and Bernstein are also guilty of listening in on phone conversations via a second line and bluffing to get informants to confirm information. They even outright lie, telling one person's wife that their questioning is for her husband's own good. She and they knew that wasn't the case and she called them on it. Both of them draw conclusions very quickly, and while they may be logical and wise conclusions, they're still hastily made. As their editor pointed out, they need facts; the newspaper can't simply print deductions made by reporters based on people's refusals to speak.
Yet overall, these two reporters go far beyond the requirements of the profession (or perhaps just set a standard for the rest of us) in the way they "serve as an independent monitor of power" - yet another essential element of journalism by K&R's standards. In the end they've got more going for them than strikes against them... and one can't forget the fact that they broke one of the biggest stories in journalism's history.
Oh, and everything else aside... the cinematography is really something, so I definitely recommend this film if you have an artistic eye!
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Ain't no Passim craze
When I first walked into Club Passim, located in a cobblestone back street of Harvard Square, I was skeptical. Sitting room only? Can this truly be a club? The Passim experience may not be your typical night on the town, but therein lies the charm of this established “folk music and cultural center.”
From its size, you’d think the place was a basement – not to mention the floor and one wall are made of bricks. But the atmosphere is anything but cold. Soft yellow lighting invites patrons to come and enjoy an evening of music and food together. Square tables and mismatched chairs, soon to be replaced, are arranged Tetris-style to accommodate the greatest number of guests possible.
If you want to sit at a table, buy your tickets in advance or get there early. You’ll be obliged to order at least $5 worth of food from Passim’s daytime alter ego and nighttime sidekick, Veggie Planet, whose menu is one hundred percent vegetarian. Entrees can be ordered on white rice, brown rice, or pizza dough.
Even carnivores will enjoy snacking on doughy garlic knots or fair trade brownies with regular or soy ice cream. If you’d rather just get a drink, there’s coffee and organic soda. Though it has traditionally been an alcohol-free setting, Passim recently started offering beer and wine to patrons at tables.
“It’s a nice service to offer,” said manager Matt Smith. “Of course we want to maintain the listening room atmosphere – there’s no open bar – but it helped keep the doors open when the economy fell apart.”
The listening room atmosphere is definitely still there. Passim isn’t just a place people go to see a show; it’s a place they go to be in community with one another. They often know the artists’ music from previous shows at the club since a lot of artists cycle through, playing one or two shows there each year.
There’s a connection between the address, the artists, and the audience that you don’t find in most venues. Singers take song requests from patrons and converse with the crowd as if they were old friends. And, in some way, they are. Passim has been a cultural crux for music lovers since 1958, when it was called Club 47. It makes a point of nurturing new artists from openers to headliners.
Even though the club panders to the folk folks, Smith said, “People shouldn’t be afraid of the word folk. They’ll be surprised if they come with an open mind toward something they wouldn’t normally experience.”
The blend of personalities and generations seated around the tables show Smith’s theory holds water. So, if you’re looking for a cozy, coffee-shop kind of setting some night, I encourage you to be open to the Passim experience, which you’ll find at 47 Palmer St. in Cambridge. You might be surprised.
From its size, you’d think the place was a basement – not to mention the floor and one wall are made of bricks. But the atmosphere is anything but cold. Soft yellow lighting invites patrons to come and enjoy an evening of music and food together. Square tables and mismatched chairs, soon to be replaced, are arranged Tetris-style to accommodate the greatest number of guests possible.
If you want to sit at a table, buy your tickets in advance or get there early. You’ll be obliged to order at least $5 worth of food from Passim’s daytime alter ego and nighttime sidekick, Veggie Planet, whose menu is one hundred percent vegetarian. Entrees can be ordered on white rice, brown rice, or pizza dough.
Even carnivores will enjoy snacking on doughy garlic knots or fair trade brownies with regular or soy ice cream. If you’d rather just get a drink, there’s coffee and organic soda. Though it has traditionally been an alcohol-free setting, Passim recently started offering beer and wine to patrons at tables.
“It’s a nice service to offer,” said manager Matt Smith. “Of course we want to maintain the listening room atmosphere – there’s no open bar – but it helped keep the doors open when the economy fell apart.”
The listening room atmosphere is definitely still there. Passim isn’t just a place people go to see a show; it’s a place they go to be in community with one another. They often know the artists’ music from previous shows at the club since a lot of artists cycle through, playing one or two shows there each year.
There’s a connection between the address, the artists, and the audience that you don’t find in most venues. Singers take song requests from patrons and converse with the crowd as if they were old friends. And, in some way, they are. Passim has been a cultural crux for music lovers since 1958, when it was called Club 47. It makes a point of nurturing new artists from openers to headliners.
Even though the club panders to the folk folks, Smith said, “People shouldn’t be afraid of the word folk. They’ll be surprised if they come with an open mind toward something they wouldn’t normally experience.”
The blend of personalities and generations seated around the tables show Smith’s theory holds water. So, if you’re looking for a cozy, coffee-shop kind of setting some night, I encourage you to be open to the Passim experience, which you’ll find at 47 Palmer St. in Cambridge. You might be surprised.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Sleeping at Last
How many bands do you know that can play close to an hour’s worth of music without touching a standard six-string guitar? Sleeping At Last can, and they do it well. Though it was more packed than at 12:30 on a weekday, the dark side of Lane was utterly silent while the three-and-a-half-man ensemble played last Friday night.
Singer Ryan O’Neal began the set with a ukulele in hand. Dan Perdue alternated between keys and bass, while stand-in drummer Aaron Mortenson kept the beat for his first ever live show with Sleeping At Last.
In spite of the absence of a guitar, the band achieved a sound reminiscent of the Fray or Coldplay. O’Neal explained after the show that his love for Hawaii inspired him to include the uke on the band’s third album, Storyboards, released Sept. 15. “It’s the most exciting instrument I’ve picked up since guitar,” he said.
The Wheaton, IL natives say they’ve “never been happier with a record.” They branched out with Storyboards, adding new instruments like banjo and mandolin to a more acoustic album than their two previous national releases. “It’s about the craft of songwriting,” said O’Neal. “We want to write music people can relate to.”
Sleeping at Last was joined by solo artist Jeremy Larson, who filled in the gaps where the band couldn’t cover all the needed instruments. Larson also opened the night with his own one-man, five-instrument set, looping tracks and building to a hypnotizing climax on each song.
In addition to guitar, drums and vocals, Larson incorporated violin and cello, two instruments he’d never played live before. “I learned to play them out of necessity,” he said. “I wanted strings on my album and didn’t know anyone who played.”
Larson ended up contributed strings to MuteMath’s most recent album, Armistice, and Eisley’s upcoming release. For him, making music is all about collaboration, so he contacted Sleeping at Last and asked if he could play strings for them. You can hear him on Storyboards track “Chandeliers.”
Larson’s work with the band led to them touring together. They spent two days in a car (three in Larson’s case) to arrive at Gordon and had a ten-hour drive to their next venue. “We really wanted to come here,” said Larson with a shrug.
Why? “Because you guys are awesome,” said O’Neal. “Super awesome.”
Singer Ryan O’Neal began the set with a ukulele in hand. Dan Perdue alternated between keys and bass, while stand-in drummer Aaron Mortenson kept the beat for his first ever live show with Sleeping At Last.
In spite of the absence of a guitar, the band achieved a sound reminiscent of the Fray or Coldplay. O’Neal explained after the show that his love for Hawaii inspired him to include the uke on the band’s third album, Storyboards, released Sept. 15. “It’s the most exciting instrument I’ve picked up since guitar,” he said.
The Wheaton, IL natives say they’ve “never been happier with a record.” They branched out with Storyboards, adding new instruments like banjo and mandolin to a more acoustic album than their two previous national releases. “It’s about the craft of songwriting,” said O’Neal. “We want to write music people can relate to.”
Sleeping at Last was joined by solo artist Jeremy Larson, who filled in the gaps where the band couldn’t cover all the needed instruments. Larson also opened the night with his own one-man, five-instrument set, looping tracks and building to a hypnotizing climax on each song.
In addition to guitar, drums and vocals, Larson incorporated violin and cello, two instruments he’d never played live before. “I learned to play them out of necessity,” he said. “I wanted strings on my album and didn’t know anyone who played.”
Larson ended up contributed strings to MuteMath’s most recent album, Armistice, and Eisley’s upcoming release. For him, making music is all about collaboration, so he contacted Sleeping at Last and asked if he could play strings for them. You can hear him on Storyboards track “Chandeliers.”
Larson’s work with the band led to them touring together. They spent two days in a car (three in Larson’s case) to arrive at Gordon and had a ten-hour drive to their next venue. “We really wanted to come here,” said Larson with a shrug.
Why? “Because you guys are awesome,” said O’Neal. “Super awesome.”
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Civil writes
Consider the role of the media in the civil rights movement.
The media, especially television media, made civil rights the problem of people at home - people living in homogeneous sections of society and regions for whom segregation may not have been a legal reality. Not only did it illustrate the actions of those involved in the movement, it also demanded action from those who were not involved. By showing the individuals and incidents shaping the civil rights movement, the media handed other citizens the information they needed to decide who was right and who was wrong, thus enabling them to be responsible and self-governing Americans.
So let's discuss. How can we use the media for the same purpose today? Can the same media even be used? What are the wrongs in our society and how can we expose them? Is racism really gone, or do we as journalists - and moreover, as citizens - need to continue fighting racial injustices? Tell me what you think.
The media, especially television media, made civil rights the problem of people at home - people living in homogeneous sections of society and regions for whom segregation may not have been a legal reality. Not only did it illustrate the actions of those involved in the movement, it also demanded action from those who were not involved. By showing the individuals and incidents shaping the civil rights movement, the media handed other citizens the information they needed to decide who was right and who was wrong, thus enabling them to be responsible and self-governing Americans.
So let's discuss. How can we use the media for the same purpose today? Can the same media even be used? What are the wrongs in our society and how can we expose them? Is racism really gone, or do we as journalists - and moreover, as citizens - need to continue fighting racial injustices? Tell me what you think.
Monday, October 26, 2009
The Elements of Creative Writing
It’s not every day you see wordsmiths gathered in a science building. But then, it’s not every day you see chemists relishing the written word, either. The backwards “celebration of words and letters” took place at the Ken Olsen Science Center on Tuesday, October 20, when the national day on writing converged with national chemistry week.
“It’s not too many times we’ve been able to say, ‘hosted by the departments of chemistry and English,’” said Dwight Tshudy, associate professor of chemistry. At “Of Poetry and Periodic Tables,” students and faculty read their original poetry and CoNTeST entries – patchwork stories, poems and proverbs constructed from only the letters found in the periodic table.
From sophomore Ariel Guiguizian’s story about “BAtBOY Y FISH LaDy” to freshman Joshua Meister’s “PErIODIC PUN” on Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle, CoNTeST entries revealed a wealth of wit on the writers’ parts and even greater wealths of patience.
CoNTeST winner Rachel Otto’s “AlAs, THe CHOICe” was the longest entry. While the rest of us were taking quad finals, Otto (’12) was piecing together a full-page parody of Hamlet’s famous “to be or not to be” soliloquy.
“I actually got the idea one day when I was… debating whether or not to go to chemistry class,” said Otto. Although she almost gave up when she realized the periodic table would not allow her to spell “or,” Otto pressed on, hoping to win first prize: a periodic table blanket.
“I was getting kind of cold at night because I hadn’t brought extra blankets,” she admitted. Ulterior motives aside, Otto said she welcomed the chance to combine creativity with classic literature under the CoNTeST’s constraints.
Irv Levy, professor of chemistry and computer science, agreed with Otto: the blanket is perfect for “protecting yourself from the elements with the elements.” Judges waited until mole day, or 10/23 – thus named because the scientific quantity of a mole is 6.022 times 1023 – to declare Otto the winner.
“I take my hat – no, I take my whole head off to her,” said one judge.
Susanna Sousa’s “TReAsURe MoUNTaIN” took second prize, a 550-piece periodic table jigsaw puzzle. Guiguizian and Meister earned honorable mentions along with junior Elise Nedzweckas and senior Rachel Shirron.
“It’s not too many times we’ve been able to say, ‘hosted by the departments of chemistry and English,’” said Dwight Tshudy, associate professor of chemistry. At “Of Poetry and Periodic Tables,” students and faculty read their original poetry and CoNTeST entries – patchwork stories, poems and proverbs constructed from only the letters found in the periodic table.
From sophomore Ariel Guiguizian’s story about “BAtBOY Y FISH LaDy” to freshman Joshua Meister’s “PErIODIC PUN” on Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle, CoNTeST entries revealed a wealth of wit on the writers’ parts and even greater wealths of patience.
CoNTeST winner Rachel Otto’s “AlAs, THe CHOICe” was the longest entry. While the rest of us were taking quad finals, Otto (’12) was piecing together a full-page parody of Hamlet’s famous “to be or not to be” soliloquy.
“I actually got the idea one day when I was… debating whether or not to go to chemistry class,” said Otto. Although she almost gave up when she realized the periodic table would not allow her to spell “or,” Otto pressed on, hoping to win first prize: a periodic table blanket.
“I was getting kind of cold at night because I hadn’t brought extra blankets,” she admitted. Ulterior motives aside, Otto said she welcomed the chance to combine creativity with classic literature under the CoNTeST’s constraints.
Irv Levy, professor of chemistry and computer science, agreed with Otto: the blanket is perfect for “protecting yourself from the elements with the elements.” Judges waited until mole day, or 10/23 – thus named because the scientific quantity of a mole is 6.022 times 1023 – to declare Otto the winner.
“I take my hat – no, I take my whole head off to her,” said one judge.
Susanna Sousa’s “TReAsURe MoUNTaIN” took second prize, a 550-piece periodic table jigsaw puzzle. Guiguizian and Meister earned honorable mentions along with junior Elise Nedzweckas and senior Rachel Shirron.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
255 Grapevine Packs the Pews
Shelves outside of the A. J. Gordon Memorial Chapel were crammed with canned food last Saturday night, and the pews inside were just as packed with the Gordon students, alumni, friends and family whose donated cans had purchased admission to the new Homecoming variety show, 255 Grapevine.
255 Grapevine claimed the time slot formerly filled by faculty talent show, nodroG, which will now take place in spring. The new event was the brainchild of theater professor Norm Jones and theater/English major Amy Laing ’11 who was also stage manager of the show. Laing said she hoped the show would have “more audience involvement and form… a stronger sense of community between departments.”
255 Grapevine’s 14 acts and 100 performers pulled the audience into the show like no Gordon show had before. Talents ranged from country music to Broadway farce to a four-person piano face-off modeled after the popular Guitar Hero video games, and the audience was supplied with props to participate in each of these.
Alumna Noni Mason (’92) and her husband choreographed one of the main attractions, “Stomp,” which invited the crowd to click their pens in time with the beat. Assistant professor of music Michael Monroe’s four Piano Heroes played the 1812 Overture on two grand pianos. “We asked you to bring cans,” said Monroe. “But we forgot to ask you to bring cannons.” Instead, the audience was given brown paper lunch bags and cued to inflate and pop them when the theme sounded.
The beloved Dr. Marv Wilson told everyone about his wild goose chase after a stolen Gordon van in New York City. “How good it was to come home to 255 Grapevine,” he said. Jenifer Hevelone-Harper, a student turned history professor, shared her experiences as a student and as a faculty member. She, too, considered 255 Grapevine her home.
Students agreed that the message of the interviews was good, but they seemed long and somewhat out of place, disrupting the energy created by standing-ovation acts like “Stomp.” Even so, people walked out with smiles on their faces.
Two days after the show, Laing was still beaming. “I am so happy with the way it went,” she said. “It was fun and created the sort of community experience we were looking for.”
*Alysa Obert contributed to this article.
255 Grapevine claimed the time slot formerly filled by faculty talent show, nodroG, which will now take place in spring. The new event was the brainchild of theater professor Norm Jones and theater/English major Amy Laing ’11 who was also stage manager of the show. Laing said she hoped the show would have “more audience involvement and form… a stronger sense of community between departments.”
255 Grapevine’s 14 acts and 100 performers pulled the audience into the show like no Gordon show had before. Talents ranged from country music to Broadway farce to a four-person piano face-off modeled after the popular Guitar Hero video games, and the audience was supplied with props to participate in each of these.
Alumna Noni Mason (’92) and her husband choreographed one of the main attractions, “Stomp,” which invited the crowd to click their pens in time with the beat. Assistant professor of music Michael Monroe’s four Piano Heroes played the 1812 Overture on two grand pianos. “We asked you to bring cans,” said Monroe. “But we forgot to ask you to bring cannons.” Instead, the audience was given brown paper lunch bags and cued to inflate and pop them when the theme sounded.
The beloved Dr. Marv Wilson told everyone about his wild goose chase after a stolen Gordon van in New York City. “How good it was to come home to 255 Grapevine,” he said. Jenifer Hevelone-Harper, a student turned history professor, shared her experiences as a student and as a faculty member. She, too, considered 255 Grapevine her home.
Students agreed that the message of the interviews was good, but they seemed long and somewhat out of place, disrupting the energy created by standing-ovation acts like “Stomp.” Even so, people walked out with smiles on their faces.
Two days after the show, Laing was still beaming. “I am so happy with the way it went,” she said. “It was fun and created the sort of community experience we were looking for.”
*Alysa Obert contributed to this article.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Good Night and Good Luck: A Benediction for Journalists
Good Night and Good Luck (dir. George Clooney, 2005) will be a lighthouse to meandering generations of journalists to come – at least, after watching it, one would hope so.
The film is a cinematic well from which those of the fourth estate may draw wisdom, guidance, and inspiration. It showcases both ends of the journalistic spectrum: those yellow news people motivated by financial and popularity factors, and those morally sound gems dedicated to none but the audience. Good Night dares modern news institutions to follow the example of the ethical reporter.
There is a very thorough book by Misters Kovach and Rosenstiel called The Elements of Journalism, which addresses what ought to be (but rarely are) the building blocks of a noble trade. These elements are played out in Good Night as if the book and film were scripted by the same party.
Like the authors, Edward Murrow, hero of Good Night, recognized that “television in the main is being used to distract, delude, amuse, and insulate us,” citing Americans’ “built-in allergy to unpleasant or disturbing information” as a cause for journalism’s plunge into some form of mass “reality” entertainment.
Clooney and the authors would agree on the roles of transparency and bias in the newsroom. Kovach and Rosenstiel wrote about honesty regarding not only what is known, but also what is unknown. “Acknowledging what is not known is a claim to more authority, not less,” they said.
Good Night tells the story of broadcast journalists wrestling with the controversies surrounding Joseph McCarthy, a scenario fraught with unknowns. The station’s honest treatment of the issue inspired the nation to trust Edward Murrow more than any other American.
Other members of the CBS team would make skyscrapers out of sandcastles just to get something on the air. Co-producer Fred Friendly said, “There’s no news, boys, so go out there and make some news.” But Murrow didn’t want to abuse the privilege of being on TV by broadcasting drivel.
Kovach and Rosensteil argue that “bias is not something that can or should be eliminated,” and this is clear from the newscasts shown in Good Night. Murrow’s opinion was obvious every time he stepped in front of the camera, a technique that would be quarantined today as a breach of people’s freedom to believe what they choose. In fact, it ultimately cost Murrow his job.
But Murrow never told audiences “this is what you should believe.” In spite of his bias, he presented a balanced account of the facts, presenting evidence from outside sources alongside his interpretation so that viewers could make informed choices.
That is responsible journalism. Kovach and Rosenstiel wrote that “objective” reporting “is more than mere accuracy.” It’s not facts presented without meaning; there is a “sorting-out process” on the part of the journalist. “Mere accuracy can be a kind of distortion,” they said.
The purpose of journalism is to reveal, not to hide. Murrow believed TV had the potential to teach, illuminate, and inspire if used toward those ends. “Otherwise,” he said, “it is merely wires and lights in a box.”
The film is a cinematic well from which those of the fourth estate may draw wisdom, guidance, and inspiration. It showcases both ends of the journalistic spectrum: those yellow news people motivated by financial and popularity factors, and those morally sound gems dedicated to none but the audience. Good Night dares modern news institutions to follow the example of the ethical reporter.
There is a very thorough book by Misters Kovach and Rosenstiel called The Elements of Journalism, which addresses what ought to be (but rarely are) the building blocks of a noble trade. These elements are played out in Good Night as if the book and film were scripted by the same party.
Like the authors, Edward Murrow, hero of Good Night, recognized that “television in the main is being used to distract, delude, amuse, and insulate us,” citing Americans’ “built-in allergy to unpleasant or disturbing information” as a cause for journalism’s plunge into some form of mass “reality” entertainment.
Clooney and the authors would agree on the roles of transparency and bias in the newsroom. Kovach and Rosenstiel wrote about honesty regarding not only what is known, but also what is unknown. “Acknowledging what is not known is a claim to more authority, not less,” they said.
Good Night tells the story of broadcast journalists wrestling with the controversies surrounding Joseph McCarthy, a scenario fraught with unknowns. The station’s honest treatment of the issue inspired the nation to trust Edward Murrow more than any other American.
Other members of the CBS team would make skyscrapers out of sandcastles just to get something on the air. Co-producer Fred Friendly said, “There’s no news, boys, so go out there and make some news.” But Murrow didn’t want to abuse the privilege of being on TV by broadcasting drivel.
Kovach and Rosensteil argue that “bias is not something that can or should be eliminated,” and this is clear from the newscasts shown in Good Night. Murrow’s opinion was obvious every time he stepped in front of the camera, a technique that would be quarantined today as a breach of people’s freedom to believe what they choose. In fact, it ultimately cost Murrow his job.
But Murrow never told audiences “this is what you should believe.” In spite of his bias, he presented a balanced account of the facts, presenting evidence from outside sources alongside his interpretation so that viewers could make informed choices.
That is responsible journalism. Kovach and Rosenstiel wrote that “objective” reporting “is more than mere accuracy.” It’s not facts presented without meaning; there is a “sorting-out process” on the part of the journalist. “Mere accuracy can be a kind of distortion,” they said.
The purpose of journalism is to reveal, not to hide. Murrow believed TV had the potential to teach, illuminate, and inspire if used toward those ends. “Otherwise,” he said, “it is merely wires and lights in a box.”
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Excavations of the Psalms with Rabbi Baruch HaLevi
Baruch HaLevi is in the excavation business. In mid-September, he encouraged Gordon College students to search for “what’s beyond the text” of the Bible. The most challenging part of his call? It came from someone not typically embraced by those of the proverbial Gordon Bubble.
HaLevi is a rabbi at Swampscott’s Congregation Shirat Hayam. He was the first of a series of rabbis and Jewish scholars invited to explore the Psalms with the Christian students of Gordon. Even though the audience’s beliefs didn’t match HaLevi’s Jewish perception of Jesus, he boldly proclaimed his message.
“The Psalms are alive,” he said. They are truths that, laid bare to the ravages of time, have come out victorious. The rabbi was a portrait of Jewish openness to ambiguity in holy texts. “We are not turning there for historical truths, but for human truths,” he said. God always chose unlikely candidates to do his work. HaLevi highlighted the truth in this theme.
“God wants an individual who… is going to define himself by his deeds,” he said. God needs us to be people who will stand up for those made in His image and say, “Yes, I am my brother’s keeper.” HaLevi said the patriarchs and matriarchs were imperfect just like us, so we should follow their lead and act as the messiah in his absence.
Though his truth and ours were far from identical, HaLevi’s challenge is worth remembering: “Speak up and speak out, act up and act out – for goodness.”
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Newcomers: Naarita ArnoldAvila
Gordon’s first Bolivian student, Naarita ArnoldAvila, is thrilled to be here. “I’m glad that God opened doors,” she said. ArnoldAvila grew up near the city of Tarija with her extended family, all Pentecostal Christians. She came to America to make her faith real and personal by leaving that comfort zone.“When you’re listening all the time to faith, it’s hard to know what it is,” said ArnoldAvila. She has already learned a lot from students of other denominations and looks forward to learning more.
When ArnoldAvila got on the plane to come here, it was her first time leaving Bolivia and she didn’t know what to expect. She said the people here have shown genuine interest and concern for her. It has been like home, where her family often gathered to pray, celebrate, or fellowship through activities like camping.
Pop culture has been the greatest barrier. “I don’t know about music or about shows,” she said. “Some things that they talk about I don’t understand.” As a community, let us recognize that many students on campus are in the same boat and love them by letting them in on the secret.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
30 Years Later, Zinsser’s Book About Writing Still Inspires
“It’s called classic for a reason,” said Erika Diaz, a senior communication arts major from Napa Valley, CA, of William Zinsser’s On Writing Well. The book has been on shelves for thirty years, longer than the students reading it have been alive – but they agree that its advice remains relevant. “Anybody who’s gonna put a pen to a page should read it,” Diaz said. On Writing Well certainly runs the gamut. “It’s about learning to deal with people,” said Steve Fletcher, a junior communication arts major from Maine, “which lends itself to journalists more than anyone else.” Zinsser speaks specifically to journalists in sections that map the anatomy of articles and interviews.
But all writers will benefit from Zinsser’s counsel to write clearly, concisely, and without exhaustingly polysyllabic words that only obfuscate the point – what Zinsser calls “clutter.” Diaz said the book transformed the way she approached writing – more specifically, revision.
“I dreaded cutting until now,” she said. Zinsser taught her that there’s freedom in leaving some material on the cutting room floor. Diaz felt these words of wisdom made her a stronger writer.
The book’s success comes down to two words: user friendly. Fletcher said it was the most readable book he’s been assigned in his college career, and Diaz compared it to a coffee shop conversation with a “grandfatherly figure… [who’s] sitting down and telling me everything I need to know about writing.”
“The person on the other side of the page had a passion,” said Fletcher. Zinsser’s subtle humor keeps the reader coming back for another lesson, and another and another. Fletcher felt that Zinsser wanted writers to infuse their writing with that same “human feel.”
On Writing Well is a fun and friendly classroom text. Diaz said, “I sold back all my books last year except for this one!”
Thursday, September 3, 2009
College Students Mixed about Online Journalism
By Amanda C. Thompson
With many newspapers waving goodbye to paper and hailing an era of virtual reporting, the world of journalism stands at a crossroads. Some readers are disconcerted, but many welcome the possibilities offered by online journalism.
One cannot deny the convenience of Internet-based newspapers. “I get my news online because it’s easy and quick,” said Jessica DeVivo, a student at Gordon College.
Additionally, virtual publications mean writers can adhere to the journalistic ideal of timeliness in a way that was never possible before, and they can cater to an audience that thrives on immediacy.
But traditionalists aren’t convinced. Maggie Lafferty, another Gordon student, said, “print is better!” She added, though, that she appreciates the accessibility of paperless journalism. While attending school in Massachusetts, she can keep up with events at home in Pennsylvania because her local paper, the Lancaster Mariner, is available online.
The Gordon College newspaper, The Tartan, is going exclusively online for the first time this fall. Many students are not aware of the change and expect to find a stack of printed Tartans in their usual place at the bottom of the stairs in the dining hall.
One of these students is Chelsea Lucas, a junior at the college. When she heard the Tartan was going online, her immediate response was, “I don’t like it.” She explained that she only read the paper if she found it lying around. Now she probably won’t read it at all.
Lucas speculates that updates sent by e-mail will end up in virtual recycling bins amid daily Student News posts from the Center for Educational Technologies (CET). The Tartan’s best hope, she said, is to include lots of features on the homepage alongside sports updates so non- athletes will have a reason to keep reading.
But she’d still prefer a hard copy.
With many newspapers waving goodbye to paper and hailing an era of virtual reporting, the world of journalism stands at a crossroads. Some readers are disconcerted, but many welcome the possibilities offered by online journalism.
One cannot deny the convenience of Internet-based newspapers. “I get my news online because it’s easy and quick,” said Jessica DeVivo, a student at Gordon College.
Additionally, virtual publications mean writers can adhere to the journalistic ideal of timeliness in a way that was never possible before, and they can cater to an audience that thrives on immediacy.
But traditionalists aren’t convinced. Maggie Lafferty, another Gordon student, said, “print is better!” She added, though, that she appreciates the accessibility of paperless journalism. While attending school in Massachusetts, she can keep up with events at home in Pennsylvania because her local paper, the Lancaster Mariner, is available online.
The Gordon College newspaper, The Tartan, is going exclusively online for the first time this fall. Many students are not aware of the change and expect to find a stack of printed Tartans in their usual place at the bottom of the stairs in the dining hall.
One of these students is Chelsea Lucas, a junior at the college. When she heard the Tartan was going online, her immediate response was, “I don’t like it.” She explained that she only read the paper if she found it lying around. Now she probably won’t read it at all.
Lucas speculates that updates sent by e-mail will end up in virtual recycling bins amid daily Student News posts from the Center for Educational Technologies (CET). The Tartan’s best hope, she said, is to include lots of features on the homepage alongside sports updates so non- athletes will have a reason to keep reading.
But she’d still prefer a hard copy.
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