Enough is enough. Or is it?

Can there be too much coverage about a particular issue? 

Sure, most reporters would agree that time spent covering stories like the marital torment of Sandra Bullock and Jesse James is a bit excessive. But what about those issues that really do impact our society on a large-scale? Is it possible to "over report" on such issues? 

It's a question that has long been debated; however, I began seriously contemplating the issue as the year-old debate on the healthcare overhaul came to vote this past Sunday night. The media has been fairly consumed with the issue. And while such attention may very well be warranted, have we failed to bring light to other important issues? 

This ProPublica article underscores the issue.  At hand is whether or not bickering about healthcare on Capitol Hill has caused other issues, namely issues surrounding the training of Afghan police offers, to be neglected. The article addresses Sen. Claire McCaskill's frustration over the cancellation of a meeting that was set to address some serious problems with Afghan police officers.  While the article focuses on  Congress' recent obsession with healthcare, there are certainly parallels when it comes to the media.  

While the healthcare debate is no doubt worthy of coverage, have we as reporters ignored other issues because of our recent fixation with the emotionally-charged fighting that has been complementing the debate? I think so. 

While I will undoubtedly fall short, as a reporter my goal is to strive to search for important themes that are underreported in mainstream media. While the assignment desk may have the the ultimate say about what I  cover, pitching such stories, which are important to viewers and not readily reported, will hopefully contribute--albeit in a small way--to a society that is more balanced in terms of news consumption and public policy. 

Initiation not just communication

Producers. 

Their title pretty much sums up their role in the newsroom. In the simplest of terms, they put together the many pieces of the news-gathering process in an attempt to "produce" a seamless show. 

Their relationship with reporters is but a fraction of their overall job function.  And that's why, from this reporter's perspective, it is so necessary to continually initiate communication about your story's progress.  

Case in point: I recently was sent to cover a Jefferson City parks and recreation meeting because of a rather ambiguous agenda line item about a discussion of a sales tax. The mention of the tax spurred my news director's curiosity; however, from the onset, we had no idea whether or not anything discussed at the meeting would be newsworthy.  

Fast-forward two hours: I returned to the newsroom from the meeting to some visibly irritated producers because they did not have my cell phone number. To my defense, I had written my contact information in the appropriate place in the newsroom. And while for whatever reason they were unable to find it, the whole situation could have been avoided if I simply called the newsroom immediately following the meeting.  

Its about initiation, not just communication. If nothing else, I've taken away from my first few shifts at the station the need to start dialogue with your producers--even if they don't seem overly eager to hear about the latest developments of some relatively minor VOSOT. And while my approach admittedly borders on annoying, at least I know I am not screwing up a producer's show because of a lack of communication.  Frankly, I'd rather be viewed as annoying than incompetent.

In the long run, taking the initiative to call back to the station early and often will, perhaps most importantly, ensure you have a voice in the story's evolution. 

On a more practical level, it means you're more likely to have a healthy--and less frustrating--relationship with your station's producers, which I am learning is never a bad thing. 

Searching

Any reporter knows that the whole notion of developing story ideas can be either the bane of one's professional existence or a part of the story-telling process that can ensure your work's success. 

Strong leads can turn into great enterprising stories.  A lack thereof is sure to spell failure--particularly in a market that isn't readily ripe with hard news.  So, while I am waiting to get assigned my shifts at KOMU, I've decided to devote this entry to debatably the most important part of a reporter's job:  finding captivating stories. 

Through my work as a print journalist and the time I've spent cultivating TV news stories, I've come to realize that coming up with story ideas shouldn't be underestimated.  I've also found that it takes a sizable amount of elbow grease to develop good story ideas.  In other words, they don't just appear.  

Many times, I've found the best story ideas come from the people who may never be elected to a public office or, for that matter, darken the doors of a city hall. They're society's hard workers who often never get the accolade they deserve. Case in point: I work part-time at a local community college. There, I've gotten to know a number of its students.  Many are non-traditional in nature. They're smart, humble and have incredible stories. 

While talking with one woman in her 40's, she told me about how she was recently reunited with a son who she placed for adoption more than a quarter of a century ago. The now-28-year-old found his biological mother on Craigslist. 

It was a moving story.  And after a bit of convincing, that student's untold story turned into a package that hopefully did their story justice.  It happened by getting out in the community, building a rapport with your viewers and shutting up and listening. 

However agonizing, I believe building the gathering of story ideas into one's work schedule is paramount to success. 

Junkies and some take-away journalistic principles

Earlier today, I stumbled across this MediaStorm slideshow, which chronicles the lives of some 20-something drug addicts in New York City.  And I think it may have just changed my life.  

More about that little revelation  in a minute. 

Considering the perpetual rat race in which I daily participate, I see, hear and read a lot of stuff. On any given day, I visit a litany of news Web sites, read two daily newspapers and watch way too much local and network TV news. And, when all else fails, my Blackberry keeps me leashed to the world. 

So when something (for that matter anything)--much less a piece of journalism--has the power to prompt me to boast of a life-changing experience on this blog, one should know it's serious. Jessica Dimmock's multi-media project, which primarily uses still photos to tell the story, is gut-wrenching. It's raw. It's emotional. It makes one think about an issue that has societal implications. 

It basically does everything a piece of journalism should do. And while it is presented largely through still photography, the journalistic principles of what make this great are universal. They are principles I strive to incorporate in my work--while admittedly often falling short. 

Here's the take-away

1. Get to the core:  So often, journalists would rather substitute doing some real work to get to know real people with, say, a sound bite from an "expert." It takes work, particularly in a deadline-driven profession like TV news. But if truth is our goal, shouldn't getting to the core be an obligation? 

2. Go where your sources commune: Part of the beauty of this piece is it's ability to document real life.  Staging life is apparent to viewers. 

3. Don't be afraid.  It's a journalist's job to get up close--even when it is uncomfortable.  We owe it to our viewers. 

4. Dream big.  Sure, chances that a general-assignment reporter will have the opportunity to spend two years working on a story like The Ninth Floor are slim.  Still, if you don't have lofty goals, you'll never know what is within your reach. 

Responsibility and the infinite race for the scoop

Twitter. The New York Times.  Perez Hilton. CNN. Gawker. 

No matter the source, news today is never ending and rarely not available. It leaves journalists like myself scrambling for balance.  How do we report the news with both integrity and swiftness? 

Earlier this month, the Internet was abuzz with rumors that the New York Times was preparing to unleash some dirt about New York Gov. David Paterson and an extramarital affair. In this Huffington Post article, the author aggregates an article from the New York Magazine about the brouhaha. The article never confirms the allegations, but, at the very least, it does keep the rumors going.  

Turns out, the New York Times published an article that focused on issues surrounding questions about the rise of the Governor's top aide. The storm surrounding Gov. Paterson fizzled into a lame flurry of scrutiny focused on the promotion of one of his aides. 

The whole debacle underscores the need for good judgement and, in my opinion, organizational oversight when reporting news. Traditional journalists have an obligation to report truth--no matter if its via Twitter or for the 10 p.m. 

Bloggers, like good 'ol Perez, also should strive for truth, although clearly their gig is largely based around unsubstantiated claims.  And, to their credit, bloggers have certainly uncovered some worthwhile news.

Still, it is a delicate balance. 

Ultimately, my goal is to report aggressively, but err on the side of truth--even if that means getting scooped from time to time.  

Kids and TV :: Establishing my own boundaries

As a print reporter, I covered the gamut of tragic news about children--from a hostage situation at an elementary school to all kinds of child abuse. 

Those stories are hard to cover.  But I am beginning to wonder if the tragedies journalists are obligated to tell are a bit easier to cover for a newspaper in comparison to TV--especially when it comes to children. 

I've been working for the last week on a package about an amazing kid named Austin.  He's 16 and has been living with Batten Disease for the last eight years.  The rare neurological disease has essentially robbed him of his ability to, among other things, walk, talk and see.  If research doesn't turn into good medicine soon, the disease will likely kill Austin.  

The story is sad and now as a multi-platform journalist, I've struggled with the continual notion that I might be exploiting Austin's story. For example, it felt uncomfortable to videotape his tremors, even thought I knew such video would help me explain his plight. 

I did shoot the tremors and, while I don't regret it, I have come up with my own code of ethics of sorts when it comes to covering sad news that involve children--particularly those who are vulnerable. 

1.  If the story has the potential to be controversial, I'll seek parental permission. 

2. If the source doesn't have the capacity to understand what is happening, I'll seek out an advocate on his/her behalf before I pursue an interview. 

3. I won't use video of children that exploits them. 

4. I won't craft a story about children that is in vain; it needs to serve a purpose. 

Austin is an amazing guy. Meeting him has been a highlight of my time as a budding TV reporter. I hope the story I produced--and the guidelines I've put in place aimed at protecting him--does his life justice. 

Perception verse reality of the Western Hemisphere's 'poorest' country

I guess it is not surprising that America's media parachuted into Haiti following its earthquake. Everyone was eager to tell the terrible stories we were inundated with following the natural disaster. 

It seemed like the right thing to do. And, let us not forget, it also wasn't bad for ratings and readership. But the coverage of what many describe as the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere got me thinking.  How do we know Haiti's story--the real story--when all we see is the aftermath of a disaster that was so horrific it still seems almost unfathomable from this journalist in training? 

I recently read this NPR article that highlights attempts from President Bill Clinton to help encourage economic growth prior to the earthquake.  The article talks a bit about Clinton's effort to help Haiti before it spirals into a negative nosedive about the country's many woes.  I get that its our job as journalists to report the truth.  But how do we--more specifically, American journalists--know what the truth of Haiti is when all we've done is respond to a natural disaster?  To be fare, the article's article does a more substantive job than most when it comes telling Haiti's story.  At least this story focused, in parts, on life before the earthquake. 

Moreover, do Haitians want our pity?  I was bantering with a classmate who has close ties to Haiti this week about this very issue. She says the Western media has long done a horrific job at telling the story of Haiti.  She says it is a place where children actually did laugh. She says it is a place that was, by and large, safe.  She says it was, well, nice.   She also says it has obvious struggles--struggles that the Western media's reminds the world of continually.  She says the type of coverage does little to help advance its democracy. I think she may be right.