Lots going on up north. NHPR had my story alongside one from Chris Jensen about the Laidlaw project, and how the office of the consumer advocate at the PUC was not in favor of the deal. The North Country dominated the news cycle. Heck, the Androscoggin Valley dominated the news cycle. Berlin/Gorham dominated.
Well, in case you missed it, here is Chris’ story about the former pulp mill, and here is my story about the (former?) paper mill.
And if you just want to listen, click below.
I had planned to go to Manchester today to interview some gentlemen about how Sudanese in the state are reacting to the referendum on the possible secession of southern Sudan. But my main point of contact canceled because he had to go to Boston.
Why? To register a bunch of Sudanese to vote in the referendum.
That would have been the best story of my career—a ride with a car full of Sudanese registering to voice their opinions on whether to form a new nation. But alas, my contact and I had only spoken over email, and I was unable to get him in time to tell him I wanted to go.
What makes a story? I’m learning more and more about what ingredients make something truly compelling. This sort of journey toward a new future is just the thing. It is exactly what makes for powerful storytelling, no matter the medium. There is uncertainty, a path, conflict and a moment of truth. It’s like it was built to be told.
And because I didn’t ask for a phone number, it won’t be.
Some days…
I just finished my latest piece on the Gorham mill for NHPR. One of the most challenging things with audio stories is capturing all the sounds, to make the listener really feel like they are there. I went to the Berlin indoor farmer’s market yesterday, where there was a fantastic band (Shelburne Addition) playing, lots of people shopping and all types of sounds and noises. It made interviewing harder, but it gave me the opportunity to work a little harder at capturing the atmosphere of the place.
Again, I can’t over emphasize how nice it was to catch up with so many people over the course of the day reporting that story. It was a little hard to get my work done because so much of my time was spent saying hello to people I hadn’t seen in three months.
But I was able to capture enough sound and talk to enough people to get a good idea of how people are feeling about the mill. It is nice to report something positive happening up there, even if there are serious concerns about where it will go.
And it was nice to get to practice using sound a little more creatively (and surgically). Shelburne Addition did a great job of covering up some of the more difficult edits and making things sound good. Their music helped me bring the feeling of the market into people’s homes and cars. Or, at least, I hope it did. I think it did. I’d love to hear if anyone disagrees.
Sound is a hard thing to capture, but I’m getting better. Two weeks in Iraq should give me a real opportunity to test myself, without any distractions. And the story I just finished should give me the money to get a new microphone before I go. It all works out sometimes.
Oh, by the way, I took this photo yesterday off East Mason Street. It was a stunningly beautiful morning, although my fingers were so cold I could hardly work the camera.
Listen tomorrow morning for my story on NHPR. Probably around 7:15 a.m. I’ll post it on here when I’m finished as well.
Last night I watched this:
It was a fantastic movie. It raises all sorts of questions about race, rights, justice and oppression. But it also raises questions about truth and perspective. The camera captures what it captures, but it also leaves out so much. I watched the entire film conflicted and confused about what role race plays in the interaction of the main characters. Are the relationships equitable? Do the white Africans really have the best interests of their black countrymen in mind? It is a complex dynamic, and the filmmaker keeps such tight reigns on the film that it’s never clear if what is shown is real or “real.”
It’s an interesting study in the power of the maker of media. I’m not accusing the filmmaker of doing anything wrong, of slanting the argument, but as a viewer I wasn’t shown enough to make up my own mind. The curtain stayed down. Whether it was the truth as most reasonable people would see it, or whether it was the perspective of a white African fighting majority black rule doesn’t become clear until the final scenes. Until then it’s just a pitched battle only viewed from one side.
But the ending does make it pretty clear who is right an who is wrong. And as so often happens, the bad guy wins. Not legally, but literally.
I watched the movie over dinner, just looking for something to keep me entertained while I ate. I sat for the next hour and a half riveted. There is more information here, and the whole movie is available on Netflix streaming. It is rough to watch but worth it.
This is why reporting is so exciting to me. Stories have power. Especially ones like this.
I went up to Berlin today to gather some voices for this story I’m putting together for NHPR on the reaction to the sale of the Cascade mill. What a great day. I ran into person after person I knew, and I probably spent more time chatting with friends and catching up than I did pushing my microphone in people’s faces. Of course I asked everyone I knew about what their reaction to the mill sale was, but only some of them did I lure on tape.
And I was reminded of it once again—what a tight-knit community the North Country is. I went to the WREN farmers market, where people I knew were organizing, selling, performing, shopping and visiting. It was like all of the Androscoggin Valley was coming out to visit.
My voice got hoarse from all the chatting, but the discussion about the mill was also riveting. I’ve been away for a bit, and to swoop in now for NHPR is less than ideal, but luckily I’ve got enough people there that I know who are willing to talk to me. The locals are optimistic but scared. They are hopeful the company that bought the facility will make an honest go of finding a partner and making paper, but they don’t know if it’s going to happen.
The average age of the Cascade mill worker is 58, I was told, and there isn’t much else out there for them. They have to be hopeful. But it sounds like the company has also been straightforward with the workers. If they can’t make it the business run, they’ll tear the mill down and cut their losses.
When that’s all you’ve known, what choice do you have but to harbor a bit of fear? It’s understandable, but it’s also good to see the Androscoggin Valley soldiering on. They’ve had a rough decade, but they haven’t lost their optimism. There were more smiles today than looks of trepidation, even though the timeline for those 237 jobs to come back isn’t clear. That’s a testament to the resolve of the community, and the individual workers who make it up.
I don’t go into politics often, or national issues for that matter, but this has a connection to journalism.
Ever watch The Daily Show? I do, all the time. Jon Stewart has become the most trusted newsman on television by young American’s, and his sharp commentary is usually fantastic.
Tonight I watched this, the last Daily Show of the year. Start to finish it is a critique of the failure of the U.S. Government to provide for the 9/11 first responders. Stewart has been harping on this issue for days now, but this was the culmination of that criticism.
First, it makes me sad. I expect reporters to be pointing out injustices like this, and as Stewart points out, the media has been largely silent on this. That is a failure.
Second, it makes me angry. It’s had me thinking about going to New York and interviewing dying first responders to get their stories out. It is unconscionable that they are left hanging, and I find it hard to imagine people would let their representatives keep putting off action if they knew what was going on.
Third, it motivates me. Reporters have the bully pulpit. Even is the fractious media environment of today a powerful story can cut through and change things. These men and women deserve that kind of story right about now.
When Stewart tells former Governor Mike Huckabee it enrages him so much he muddles his words, I understand how he feels. There is no excuse for partisanship in this instance. Unfortunately that’s where America is right now. I only hope someone can tell this story well enough that the American people will not accept further delay. In my eyes, Stewart already has.
Things don’t ever slow down, it seems. I am heading up north tomorrow to see what the reaction to the sale of the mill is among locals for NHPR. And then on Sunday I’m going to Manchester to talk to two Sudanese men about the referendum there.
If I didn’t like my new job so much I’d swear there was enough freelance work to launch a career on my own. But today I got to write up the editorial panel interview with the hospital president, another awesome task.
And that’s when it hits: I’m a wonk. I can talk policy, and I like it. Hopefully I can explain the complexities to readers who have less interest in being immersed in such subtleties, but for me the opportunities to engage in these discussions are priceless.
So while there is a ton going on, I’m enjoying all of it. I just hope successful sale of the Cascade facility has more to do with paper production than demolition in the end.
I have to admit, working in a newsroom certainly has it’s perks. I spent yesterday as part of an editorial board asking the CEO of the local hospital questions about how health care reform will impact his organization, and then in the afternoon the office was discussing how opinion veiled as news affects democracy. I don’t see reporting as just a job—it’s part of the underpinnings of our government, of our ability to self-govern. Careful, concerted practice of the trade leads to a more informed public.
But what is a concerted practice of journalism? It doesn’t have laws. It moves and flows and needs to be debated and discussed. Working in an office, where those debates happen on the fly, is a great change. It’s a chance to test those ideas out, and have them challenged by other practitioners. It inspires spirited, constructive debate, which is what journalism is supposed to do in the first place.
I’m still waiting to hear whether I’m going to get to keep doing the New Hampshire Grand Initiative videos. They’ve got some concerns about liability, which we’re working on addressing, but for now the Grand Adventurer isn’t adventuring (officially, that is).
But today I get to do something else extremely rewarding in the North Country. North Country Education Services is an organization that works to promote excellence in the North Country education. They work with the schools to create opportunities for kids, and today I got to be part of one of those.
NCES put on a middle school film festival, where middle school students wrote, shot, starred in and edited movies about healthy living and healthy lifestyles. Their associate executive director, Lori Langois, is doing a leadership program with me, and she asked me if I would serve as host for an awards ceremony.
It was great. I got to read out the winners for best editing, best cinematography, best picture and the rest. I was handing out awards to fifth through eight graders (the first time I’ve ever been the tallest person on stage).
In journalism it can be challenging, because you need to keep your distance from every interest. No man is an island, but it is hard to serve on a board or put your support behind causes in a small community because you wind up covering those causes. I’ve already interviewed friends and former employers for stories at the Sun. That’s a tough place to be, because even if the story is evenhanded a possible bias exists.
But I’ve always been a champion of Coös. I’ve always felt as the reporter I was responsible for representing the interests of the people, whatever that means. But I couldn’t throw my hat in the ring, in many respects, because I might be interviewing the people in that ring a few weeks later. Now, however, I’m free of that burden—at least in Coös County. I don’t cover these communities nearly as much anymore, so I have the opportunity to throw my energy behind organizations there without having to worry about the appearance of favoritism.
I’m hoping I can work out something with the Initiative, but if not that’s OK. Either way, I’ve found a great place to invest my energy: Coös.
Good news: I’ve connected with a Manchester man from Sudan. He and another man are willing to talk to me about the impression the southern Sudanese referendum has on people living in New Hampshire. Now, with the holidays, work and everything else, I’ve got to figure out a time to speak with them…
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