The Fearless Journalist

This started out as an email to Steve Buttry, who asked my thoughts on photojournalism in today’s changing media landscape. I am by no means an expert, and I’m far from a success story. But I’ve been doing this since I was 14. I’ve seen highs, lows, and everything in between. I’ve never considered leaving, though there were times I probably should have. I love this profession with a crazy intensity, and though I am often disillusioned, I am also steadfast.

If I could bottle that passion, I would give it to every journalist I see, because of all the things I could impart, it is this one element you will need. I know this, because last summer, I lost it. I’d made a series of mistakes, and when they all came together, my life came unglued.

Most critically, I’d become emotionally and financially dependent on one client, and when the paper changed its print strategy, my editor was switched to a new department. Work trickled, then dried up completely. With every rejected pitch, I grew more despondent. Instead of rethinking my strategy, I listened to media pundits rip journalism to shreds. I got caught up in blog comments on newspaper websites. I drank in the negativity like the poison that it was.

The betrayal was thick, and nothing could shake it. At the same time, my relationship was breaking. Twenty-two years as a journalist, 14 as a “significant other,” and what did I have to show for it? A diamond engagement ring lying on my dresser and a handful of dusty plaques hanging on the walls of a home I could no longer afford. Instead of turning to my peers, I crawled in bed and spent the summer staring at the wall.

This is standard advice that has zero to do with journalism, but it’s the truth: Never let yourself get too hungry, too angry, too lonely, or too tired. I violated all of those until I didn’t have a rope with which to save myself. At any point, my fellow journalists would have talked me from my ledge, but instead, I held vigil alone, mourning the loss of print, the loss of my relationship, the loss of innocence.

“Every time I walk to my computer and open it, I feel like throwing up,” I wrote to my editor. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

He told me to back off and do something else. So I did. I learned Twitter. I wanted to understand what had killed print. What I saw left me reeling with joy — journalism was alive. There were wild, enthusiastic people like me talking about new models. They were bright and optimistic. They were fighting back. I found some of my old friends and reconnected. I stopped listening to the naysayers and started following the visionaries. I started pitching again. I started living again.

That’s a long intro, and it goes against what new media tells us readers want. So be it. It’s important to understand: Negativity will suck you under. The most ardent passion can’t survive constant erosion. Safeguard against this, and the rest of your professional life will go a lot easier.

I hear the groans. With all apologies to Mr. Henley and Co., love will NOT keep you alive (though ramen might.) It won’t keep a roof over your head, nor will it keep you warm at night. It will simply make being without these things vaguely more palatable. You want to know the same thing we all want to know: How to survive — and thrive — through the industry upheaval.

If I knew the answer, I wouldn’t still be struggling. The best I can tell you is what I have discovered through trial and error.

Learn to like numbers. There’s a tendency among freethinkers to eschew all things that smack of corporate ennui. But here’s the thing: Those boring spreadsheet columns ARE freedom. Take as many business classes as you can, even though they’re not required. You need to understand where your money is going and when more will come your way. You need to understand how, when, and why to diversify your revenue stream. You need to quickly see loopholes so they can be closed. The worst thing you can do is stick your head in the sand, because it won’t help, I promise you. If you plan to go freelance, I strongly suggest having six months savings to live on while you get established. Run your numbers using NPPA’s Cost of Doing Business calculator. See what it really takes for you to survive. Charge accordingly. Understand the true cost every time you deviate from your plan.

Study law. It will help when covering the court system, and it will help in your professional life as well. If you are freelance, you will spend an inordinate amount of time muddling through contracts and fighting over rights issues. Groups like Editorial Photographers are a tremendous resource. It’s important to understand the complexities of intellectual property law, because your copyright is your future.

Hang out with people who are doing it right. NPPA, Editorial Photographers, ASMP, SportsShooter — these guys have been in the industry for years, and they’re extremely open to young photojournalists just starting out. Sit back and listen a while. Jump in and ask questions when you don’t understand. Read everything, even the “boring” stuff. Some of that boring stuff will be pretty damned important five years down the road. You are the company you keep, and if your friends are throwing away their copyrights, working for pocket change, you will as well. You think you won’t. Trust me. You will. Mentors are important, and no one is going to make it alone. Not anymore. Get smart and get strong, and when you’re on your feet, take another young PJ under your wing. The entire industry will thank you for it.

Learn as much as you can about everything you can. In college, I hated history and political science. You couldn’t force me to take one math class more than I needed. I concentrated on literature, psychology, and foreign languages because they interested me. Nice, but I’ve yet to be hired to provide an in-depth analysis of the isolationist underpinnings of Camus’ The Stranger — in French. Instead, I struggle through economy stories, because I’ve never taken one business class. I don’t always have a firm enough grasp on historical context and how it relates to events today. A well-rounded journalist is more needed than ever, and though you can learn “on the fly,” your life will be easier, better, and more lucrative if you have a broader knowledge base from which to draw.

Protect your gear. It is your livelihood. Invest in theft insurance. Back up your images in multiple ways, multiple times, across multiple sites. Keep things in good working order, even if it means you have to skimp on extras for a while. Buy the best you can afford, and constantly add to it. So you don’t need a 400mm/2.8 right now. If Sports Illustrated wanted you to shoot the Super Bowl tomorrow night, could you do it? It doesn’t matter that SI doesn’t know you’re alive (or that football season is over.) You must be prepared at all times, for anything.

Learn to write — and like it. I’m a weird case study, because I have always been both a photographer and a writer. Back in the early 90s though, it cost me an internship. The recruiter asked which position I wanted, and I asked why I couldn’t be both. He said no one did that. I refused to choose and lost the job. Now, that recruiter’s head is probably spinning. Photographers must be skilled communicators, and the ones who can write will find themselves in much higher demand.

See things from the opposite side of the desk. It’s not enough to shoot well. Your boss, client, or potential employer has survival on his/her mind constantly. You MUST care about your paper’s bottom line, because your paper feeds you. Before you grumble about having to carry a video camera or tweet from a scene, stop and realize that news executives are, in many cases, grasping at straws. Some are just delving into social media, praying it will be the answer. Many are getting it wrong. Instead of griping at the water cooler about it, take some initiative to learn new tools like Twitter, Facebook, Foursquare, etc. See what you like and dislike as a consumer. You’ll be surprised how quickly these things become a part of your day. Remember when you stopped fighting your camera, and it became an extension of your hand? Twitter is this way as well. So is video. Once you integrate your workflow, it won’t be a hassle; it will simply be another layer you can add to a story.

Likewise, know when to say no. I saw a reporter live tweet a suicide attempt. There are times when a tool is absolutely wrong for a story, and though many will disagree, I thought a reporter at the foot of a bridge, breathlessly tweeting each incremental foot movement, showed an extreme lack of understanding of what we do and why we do it. Both the reporter and the editor disagreed with me, but that’s ok. It’s important to stand up and voice your opinion. In today’s culture of fear, I see too many journalists maintaining a “head down, work hard” mentality. Maybe that’s necessary. I’m freelance, so my perspective is different. But if we are charged to “comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable,” then so too are we charged to be more than petrified sycophants.

Speak up at meetings. Too often, photographers are second-class citizens in the newsroom, but we make it that way. Many don’t even attend staff meetings. Truth is, we are the ones out in the street, among the readers. We see things, hear things, know things, and have our own perspective on what’s right – and wrong – about our coverage. Think about your argument and state your case clearly, without rancor. You are paid to produce heart-stopping images, yes, but these days, anyone can produce a great image. You must demonstrate on a daily basis WHY they hired you. Good photojournalists are a dime a dozen. Independent thinkers, risk-takers, innovators… these are harder to find. As the American economy moves from a “knowledge economy” to a “creativity economy” this is what all workers are being called upon to do. Our industry is no different. It is ailing, and it is struggling. Now isn’t the time to give up. Now is the time to dig in our heels and help find new ways to do what we’ve always done — inform our readership.

Be human. Gone are the days when a reporter could stay safely behind cubicle walls, rarely interacting with the public beyond necessary. It was nice, especially if you had a controversial beat, but it came at a high cost — the erosion of trust and personal relationships between the media and the public. The most exciting thing about the demise of the current news model is it gives us a chance to return to our roots as community journalists. Social media will be the lynchpin upon which it all hinges. Don’t wait until you have to learn it. Dive in and figure it out for yourself. Encourage your colleagues and classmates to do the same. Find other journalists and ask about best practices for each tool. Ask them what has and hasn’t worked when incorporating social media into the newsgathering and production process. Whatever you want to learn, someone out there is already doing it. Find that person, and see what you can learn from them. This stuff isn’t going away. Embrace it now or embrace it later, because it’s an inevitable (and surprisingly fun) part of the current journalist’s life.

I’ve found Twitter to be most useful, but lately I’ve been working more with Facebook, and I see a lot of promise there. You can’t show up, promote your work, ask for story ideas or source leads, and disappear for weeks at a time. If you want a strong network, you must engage them. Hang out. Find out what they like, what they want, what they care about. Let them know you. And when it comes time for you to need help, you might be surprised at how quickly it’s offered.

Work for yourself. I don’t mean become freelance, though certainly that’s a valid option. I mean take your career into your own hands. Like it or not, you are a brand. Market yourself accordingly. Keep a streamlined profile across social platforms so people begin to identify with you. Carry business cards and pass them out. Make a website. Every journalist today should be able to work with basic html and CSS. Sites like WordPress are excellent places to grab a seat and experiment. It also wouldn’t hurt to add the following to your skill set: Flash, Dreamweaver, php, and Final Cut Pro.

Be ethical. Over and over, readers question the veracity of the images they see. It’s not worth destroying their trust — and your entire career — over a handful of stray pixels. Read the ethics codes offered by NPPA and SPJ. When in doubt, consult your employers and your peers. If something feels wrong, it probably is. Trust your gut and check it out. At the end of the day, the only thing you have left to stand upon is your reputation. Guard it with your life.

And last but not least, accept the fact that journalism sucks. So does love, marriage, and parenting (from what I can tell.) That doesn’t mean these things aren’t worth doing. It means they’re worth giving everything you have and a little bit more. The cost may be high, but the rewards will be immeasurable.