A reader came into the Ontarion office early last week criticizing the paper for its coverage of the referendum on continued membership in the Canadian Federation of Students. She held up the paper in front of my desk, visibly distraught, and informed me we hadn’t been balanced in our reporting. She was angry, also concerned that our editorial had advised students to vote ‘No’ in the referendum. I remained calm, yet unwavering in my position, defending the paper and the integrity of our coverage of the issue over the past year.
When she left, I had that strong ‘I-put-her-in-her-place’ feeling, and a co-worker came to my desk for a fist pound, a silent acknowledgement that he was proud I stood my ground. Well, of course I pounded back. What did she know, right?
It’s an Ontarion tradition for the editor-in-chief to write the final editorial of the year, often serving in the past as an arena to either castigate the paper’s harsher critics or thank everyone who has been part of the paper and their own personal development.
Over the last several years the tone has been more progressive. The editorial last year, for example, advised students to be the change and to be constructive in their approach to activism, something that editor saw very little of.
But I won’t waste your time trying to give you a profound piece of wisdom on the faults I saw in people and groups over the year; even if I tried, it would turn out to be an 800-word platitude. It would be hypocritical and it would come off as preachy.
I might not be able to avoid being a little cliché, however, but as one staff member put it, clichés are clichés because there is always some bit of undeniable truth in them.
The day after that concerned student came to the office, I could feel something nagging at me. I didn’t feel good at all anymore about our conversation. I looked at the issue she had referred to and reread the articles we had written about the referendum. To me, our editorial was fine; it was the one part of the paper where we, a staff, could be explicit with our opinions.
But we hadn’t been balanced with our news coverage. Sure, there was balance in the actual reporting of each news story; we provided the competing views on each issue and talked to people on both sides of the debate.
Our choice of coverage, however, reflected a clear anti-CFS stance.
It wasn’t a mistake, but rather something we could improve on and avoid in the future. I recognized it quicker than I had before.
As the editor-in-chief of a newspaper, I’ve been lucky in this regard; I’m constantly being criticized, both privately and publicly, on a weekly basis. What I see now is that being defensive is dangerous, and can often be contagious, and an individual can only start to even try to make personal and professional improvement when they are willing to recognize their own weaknesses.
And that can certainly be a long and arduous process.
It took months for me to realize that our coverage about former women’s studies majors putting on a mock funeral for the deceased program appeared like we were throwing ‘silly’ and ‘radical protestors’ into the fire, as one critic pointed out. I had too much faith in my reporting and knowledge to even consider that perhaps, I hadn’t gone far enough with my journalism. In hindsight, we should have gone further, running pieces on the value of the program alongside those that argued the program wasn’t needed any more. Where was our balance?
When we criticized organizers of an arts conference for defending an image that depicted queers aggressively ‘bashing back’ against a religious figure, we were scrutinized for showing little, if any, understanding about the issues facing the queer community. While I believe our editorial had value, helping raise a strong debate on campus, how had we shown an understanding of the community if the community wasn’t wholeheartedly represented in our paper?
These are simply three examples, and the truth is many more come to mind. But I didn’t write this to undermine my staff, or the paper we put out. I didn’t write this to right the wrongs of our past. I will always stand by what we write, and most often, our journalism is balanced, engaging and right on point.
But I will continue to reflect on what we didn’t write, what we didn’t present, what we failed to take into consideration, at least for my own personal growth. While it took me longer at times than others, by taking a hard look at my own assumptions and biases, the paper I was responsible for became more responsible. It became more engaging, and my staff members and I were constantly challenging ourselves in a positive way. I believe this only happened because we were candid with each other about where we could improve as a group. This was a life lesson.
Even when it might seem like nothing is changing at all, there is an infinite power in the ability to be self-reflective and always wanting to be better.
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