Practice Makes Imperfect

Originally published in the April 16, 2007 edition of The Lantern. It is posted here unedited.

I guess you can call me a gatekeeper.

You see, since starting a new position as New Media Editor for The Lantern, I’ve come to enjoy certain aspects of my job more than others.

When I sit down each morning to sift through the list of new comments left on thelantern.com, those left by University of Florida students still proclaiming their superiority in everything from football to physics brighten my day more than, say, producing a podcast. And creating a photo slideshow doesn’t hold a candle to reading Penelope hate mail.

Indeed, the content-control aspect of my job allows me to keep a finger on the pulse of our readers’ thoughts.

So, when I read comments that accuse The Lantern of “shoddy reporting,” “irresponsible editing” and, as one reader bluntly puts it, “striving to new lows in the field of ‘journalism,’” of course my gut reaction is: what are we doing wrong?

Are we really practicing irresponsible journalism? Are our writers and editors simply not making the grade? What’s the deal?

These thoughts kept recurring during the past few weeks. But, I thought, when someone criticizes your work you take it to the heart. So, I labeled them natural and let them slide.

Some time last week, while approving comments left on the Web site, I noticed a common insult included anonymously in responses to three different stories. It accused Lantern writers of being “wannabe journalists.”

Again the initial gut reaction was there, but this time it was different. This time the insult seemed empty.

The last time I checked, every student at Ohio State University is a wannabe. That is, after all, why we’re here. We all want to be something.

So, each time an English student misuses hyperbole, is he a wannabe wordsmith? Sure. Each time a physics student confuses String Theory for particle science, is she a wannabe Einstein? Absolutely. And you’d be correct to assume that each misidentified colloid is the product of a wannabe chemist.

The point is, attacking a student newspaper for lacking professionalism is not only a bit near-sighted, it is overlooking the principle reason for having a student newspaper in the first place.

Sure, as journalists it’s our goal to accurately and fairly report the news of the OSU campus. But ask any student enrolled in communication 423 (which is, by the way, where 90 percent of The Lantern’s writers come from) why they want to write for the student newspaper, and I guarantee his first response isn’t: “to serve the greater good of the university.”

It’s practice, people. Pure and simple. It’s the only chance we journalists have to hone our craft before taking a professional position in the field.

Typically, the argument most readers make toward The Lantern’s supposed lack of professionalism revolves around the idea that this paper is the official newspaper of OSU, and when we print certain stories or opinions it reflects poorly on the university. In response to the column “The Naked Truth,” one reader said, “The newspaper that purports to be the voice of OSU students has to have better ways to spill ink than this.”

Indeed, directly below the flag on our front page is the phrase: “The student voice of the Ohio State University.” This line is often misinterpreted. Essentially, the only ties the paper has with OSU is that our writers are students. Hence – student voice. One writer’s opinion is simply that and should not be interpreted otherwise.

I’m not condemning the idea of reader responses, or even negative criticism for that matter. I openly welcome them. It’s the notion that The Lantern should be held to the same light as a professional newspaper that I’m aiming to dissolve.

There’s a sign tacked to the wall directly above my desk in the newsroom that best sympathizes with my thoughts. It reads: “Lawyers hang their mistakes. Doctors bury theirs. Journalists print theirs on the front page.”

Unfortunately, this wannabe journalist’s op-ed won’t run on the front page. Maybe that’s the mistake.

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