Category Archives: Media Musings

Covering rural government hones follow-up questioning skills

I walked into Charlotte City Hall (which doubles as the police station), expecting a table encircled by suit-clad bigwigs.

A long hallway later, though, I walked into a cubicle-like space complete with mismatched chairs, a noisy (and I suspect, antique) air conditioning unit and the council — all clad in loungewear.

Rural government, I quickly discovered, is neither glamorous nor formal, and covering it requires a high level of follow-up questioning.

In covering two council meetings and a school board meeting for The Observer, I’ve learned the power of follow-up questioning and consequently, poise.

Rural council members refer to residents by first name or nickname only, so motions go something like this: “Motion to demolish Old Man Johnson’s house on that gravel road west of town.”

I felt like an interrogator asking question upon question about Old Man Johnson and the home.

Albeit confusing at moments, rural government has also taught me the value of poise. A solid question won’t receive a solid response until I show a potential source I’m invested in what he or she knows.

On the whole, moving to DeWitt has helped me hone my follow-up questioning and source-hunting skills.

I know whom to contact (and not to contact) for information at Drake, and potential sources likewise know I’m Times-Delphic editor-in-chief. Source-hunting has grown routine.

However, moving to a new town has honed my source-hunting skills. I exchanged, “Hello. It’s Taylor, again,” for, “Hello, I’m Taylor. It’s nice to meet you,” in my quest for information.

Now more than ever, I feel at ease approaching people I’ve never met and confidently asking questions.

Landing my dream interview

The unexpected joys of intern life

Me and American professional tennis player Madison Keys

One word describes my time in The Observer newsroom this summer: unexpected.

When I unpacked my AP Stylebook, notepad, click erasers and voice recorder into my blindingly teal desk June 3, I never expected to hunt mushrooms or paint barn quilts — at work.

Most of all, though, I never expected to meet and interview a professional tennis player in DeWitt, Iowa.

I’ve loved tennis since I picked up a racket at 15, and I usually gush about Swiss icon Roger Federer just 10-15 minutes into a chat with someone new. When my managing editor assigned me a feature piece about 18-year-old American pro Madison Keys, who has family in town, I was elated.

As I watched Keys play in the third round of Wimbledon on my laptop, I couldn’t believe I’d meet her in a few days.

As she pounded groundstrokes over the net, I scribbled pages of notes about her — her career record (84-48), her favorite player growing up (Belgium’s Kim Clijsters), her world ranking (No. 52, as of July 7).

Finally, I wrote the kind of questions I before had only dreamed of writing — questions about net play, the demands of the Women’s Tennis Association tour, match superstitions and slice shots.

Despite my meticulous preparation, I walked to Keys’ aunt’s house slowly on Friday, at once timid and eager.

Her warm smile instantly eased any qualms I had, and I couldn’t stop smiling as we delved into the world of aces, rankings, rackets and Grand Slams.

Writing about Madison Keys cemented my goal to work as a tennis writer someday. While I’ll never reach her level in my own game or lace my sneakers at Wimbledon, I get a thrill when I write about tennis.

When I write about tennis, my MacBook Pro is my own Centre Court at Wimbledon — and I always win.

Learning what it takes to be editor-in-chief

I’ve yet to hold the Aug. 29 Times-Delphic. To cautiously glance at the cover. To let the ink etch splotchy tattoos on my palms.

To hold the paper I’ve long loved and gaze at my name atop the masthead.

Already, though, I’ve discovered a lot about what it takes to be editor-in-chief.

I’ve long loved organization and preparation.

Like my own daily Space Shot (a ride that propels Adventureland visitors 200 feet in the air), drawing a fat line through the tasks on my to-do list is a thrill. My lime Sharpie’s signature squeak completes the adrenaline surge.

Even as I follow my summer TD calendar religiously, even as I develop a new feedback system, even as I hone the Sunday layout plan, I can’t plan for everything — and it pains me to admit it.

In the news, surprises are the norm, and I’m (slowly) beginning to grasp their impact on my job.

I’ve also discovered I can’t do it all on my own — another fact it pains me to admit. My staff is a dedicated, unusual, loud, AP Style-loving bunch, and it’s time I show more regard for their talents by trusting them.

As an editor, I admit I hover at times, but for me, trust is a slow process.

Finally, I’ve discovered I must not forget but change what drew me to journalism in the first place: writing.

I know I won’t have time to write as many news stories for the TD as I did this past year.

Instead, I plan use my writing to connect with my readers on a more personal level and ideally, show that I’m approachable and open — by writing a column at least once a month revealing and detailing the TD’s goals, plans and motivations.

When I enter the EIC world Aug. 29, I enter it alongside a few loyal pals: my beloved ink stains, my lime Sharpie and most of all, a staff that accepts my quirks (even my hovering habit).

The joy of dabbling

As a journalist, I enjoy dabbling. As a journalist in a small town, I dabble in rural culture. Though I’ve lived in Iowa for 20 years, I had (and have) a lot to learn about my home state’s signature trade: agriculture.

In just three weeks at The Observer in DeWitt, Iowa, I’ve dabbled in barn quilting and grain elevator rescue, staples of rural Iowa living.

Last week, I drove 30 miles of snaking back roads to a ghost town (the whole town is a church, about 10 homes and what was once a general store) to watch a family barn-quilt.

Barn quilts are bright, color-block plywood squares that adorn the face of a barn. A grandmother, her son and 8-year-old granddaughter greeted me with strong handshakes, their palms splashed with neon paint.

They walked me through the barn-quilting steps from sawing the wood to touching up uneven lines and colors. Though I’m not a barn quilt whiz (yet), I enjoyed dabbling in a new trade.

Plus, if barn quilts storm the interior design world, I’ll be ahead of the craze.

A second time last week, I had the chance to dabble in another staple of rural living: the cofferdam. I admit, when assigned to cover Delmar’s new cofferdam, I spelled the machine as “coffer dam” (a sign of my urban roots).

When I got to the Delmar Fire Station Friday, three men welcomed me, beaming at a giant red tube. The tube, they explained, helps firefighters in a grain elevator emergency by reducing the force of the corn on the trapped victim.

Though I’m a young journalist, I’ve already had many chances to dabble in unexpected trades. This job gives me chances not only to meet and talk to new people but also experience a slice of their world.

While I hope to work in a city someday, I admit I enjoy dabbling in the trades and quirks of rural living.

Plus, I now know just what to give Mom for Christmas (a custom barn quilt for our front door, obviously).

Rural newspaper creates community

In just 15 days as an inhabitant of DeWitt, Iowa, my notions of “news” have changed drastically. This is my first job at a “big-kid” paper, The Observer, and on day one, I awaited the flood of “big-kid” stories — stories that rile the big wigs, stories that reveal misconduct, stories that question established social institutions.

In the past 15 days, though, I’ve realized rural towns rely on the paper not for red-faced big wigs or rumors of suspicious funding allocations.

Rural towns rely on the paper for community.

The “Family news” section draws rural readers, and when one family celebrates, the whole town celebrates.

On Friday, for instance, a lady stopped by the newsroom to buy an ad for her 75th high school reunion. The whole Observer staff congratulated her again and again, asking about the plans, her class and her life since high school.

In a world of bad news, the stories I cover in this town are refreshing.

A 2013 high school graduate who runs a self-developed community outreach program. The Lions Clubs that united to raise funds for a family that lost its home and beloved dogs in a fire. The project that allows each town in Clinton County to build a barn quilt for the upcoming county fair (Barn quilts, I discovered, are big, bright mosaics that decorate the top of a barn).

My “big-kid” stories here circle around community highlights, and though I hope to cover a controversial school board decision or questionable funding allocation at some point, I admit I’m enjoying the feel-good stories on my to-do list.

Though I plan to work in a major city in the future, I hope to take a slice of the DeWitt way with me. I hope to show my readers that the news is more than a whistle-blower and a bad-news bearer.

It’s a channel for community.

Lessons learned and goals set in first week as a ‘big-kid’ reporter

This has been a week of firsts for me.

I packed my life (well, some of it) into less-than-sturdy cardboard boxes and moved two and a half hours east of my hometown. I moved into a place all my own (one that boasts the most blindingly pink bathroom I’ve ever seen).

Most notably, I began my first full-time job at my first “big-kid” newspaper, The Observer.

Lessons learned at first 'big-kid' newspaper gigIn just five days, I’ve gained a new perspective of the news business and how news functions in the rural community.

The locals here crave print copies of the bi-weekly paper, a desire that shocks me. Almost daily, readers (all of whom the receptionist greets by name, of course) drop in the newsroom to buy the latest issue.

This town is proof that print isn’t dead yet. Plus, I suspect when a local kid has a photo or even a mention in the paper, he winds up with a sky-high stack of that issue as all the neighbors donate their copies (for his scrapbook, obviously).

The paper is as much a news source as a space to share life’s milestones, and it’s clear that inclusion is second nature for the locals. Graduation open house invitations run in the paper, usually with the tagline, “All are welcome!”

At The Times-Delphic, I cover a single community isolated to the few blocks between University and Forest Avenue in Des Moines. Here, though, the community spans a few blocks to encompass a handful of rural towns linked by a web of winding highways.

That change has forced me to drive across Clinton County in pursuit of stories. As a navigationally challenged journalist, I’m resolute to master the trip from Goose Lake to Charlotte (pronounced “Char-lot,” strangely) to Low Moor and back to the newsroom — all without the syrupy voice of my GPS saying, “Turn right in 250 feet.”

Lastly, I’ve discovered that no one at The Observer has just one role. The copy editor doubles as bookkeeper. The photo editor doubles as an ads manager.

I’ve dabbled in a few elements of the paper already, too. I am a news writer, a features writer and a columnist. I also shoot photos.

Though only five days in, my first full-time job at a “big-kid” newspaper has yielded a host of new experiences, lessons and goals.

My first goal: Stop pronouncing the town of Charlotte like the name of Fern’s spider pal in E.B. White’s children’s classic.

Global engagement requires more than a glance at the day’s top headline

As a news junkie, I like to feel up-to-date. While my classmates click Facebook ritually, I click CNN, The Des Moines Register, USA TODAY, NPR, ESPN and The New York Times ritually. I even click Al Jazeera or BBC occasionally.

However, scanning the daily headlines doesn’t make me the up-to-date gal I claim to be, at times.

Global citizenship requires more than a glance at the day's top headline

Photo courtesy of Central Intelligence Agency

In just eight months, I’ll take a plane to Istanbul for three weeks of intense study. I’ll explore Islam’s evolving role in the world alongside 19 fellow Drake University students.

As I cracked “What Everyone Needs to Know about Islam” by John L. Esposito last week, I (mistakenly) expected to discover nothing new. I was an avid news junkie, one familiar with the Middle East. I was a global citizen, one who sought non-American news outlets.

I’m now 122 pages into the book, and my views of Islam and the Middle East have evolved noticeably.

I now see both sides of the hijab debate. I now see the likenesses among Islam, Christianity and Judaism. I now see the tough decision facing Muslims today — follow ancient religious laws or adapt those laws in the developing global society of 2013.

Likewise, Esposito’s book taught me that the news, while I love it, isn’t enough. As a news junkie, I have a responsibility to seek knowledge beyond the media discipline. I need to watch movies, watch documentaries, read academic essays, read fiction and read academic books.

Global engagement takes more than a glance at today’s top headline.

Until I land in Istanbul in eight months, I await a new discipline. While I discover new things about Islam on each page of Esposito’s book, I’m eager to jump into a discipline all my own: experience.

Like my responsibility to seek knowledge beyond the media discipline, I have a responsibility to experience the world — my world — beyond the pages of a book or the scenes of a movie.

Looking back at my second year as a Bulldog

It’s the end of the school year, so I have a steaming plate of spaghetti on my mind. OK, I have more than spaghetti on my mind, but I’ll get to that later.

At the end of the school year, my fellow Bulldogs and I always head to Spaghetti Works, a Des Moines staple, for one last meal. As we spin the slimy noodles and gulp ice-cold Italian sodas, we discuss the year — the highs, the lows, the mistakes, the lessons, the realizations.

I’ll give you a taste of my piece of the discussion (Don’t expect a taste of my pesto spaghetti, however).

This school year, I took on a new role as a manager. I was no longer solely responsible for my own work. As sports editor at The Times-Delphic, I had to manage a staff of 20 writers, some novice, some not.

Slowly, I realized what kind of support each writer needed. Some had never been to a tennis match. Some, I only had to say, “Hey! Write 500-600 words about men’s tennis,” to receive a well-sourced, publishable recap.

Management in the news is all about the staff and what it needs to succeed. It’s not about a title, a fancy nametag or using the “boss” voice whenever possible (I have yet to develop a “boss” voice, and that’s OK).

This school year, I also realized that I want to take my talents to a major city one day.

NBC building in ChicagoIn October, The Times-Delphic staff visited Chicago for the National College Media Convention. I was in awe as I gazed at the glowing NBC logo atop an insanely tall building. My awe didn’t stop at NBC, though.

Later that same day, I gazed up at the glowing logo at The Chicago Tribune. That was all it took to convince me that I want to live, work and write in a major city.

Lastly, I realized that I am bilingual as a J-School and English student. In a single day, I wrote an essay about revenge in the English Renaissance and a Times-Delphic story about the delay in the plans to install a key-card system in the residence halls.

The two disciplines mingled in my mind, making for two odd assignments, initially.

My revenge paper consisted entirely of one- to two-sentence paragraphs, an English no-no.

My Times-Delphic story included words like “oppositely,” a news no-no.

Luckily, my edits fixed the odd blend of English and news on the page.

Alas, my stomach is now roaring, so I am off to relish in a heap of pesto spaghetti, the company of my favorite Bulldogs and the realizations of my second year at Drake.

Giving The TD a new side of me

Recently, as I talked to a news-Internet professor, he said the sentence I had long avoided: “You know, Taylor, you won’t be able to write as much next year as editor-in-chief.”

While I realize the scope — and limitations — of my new job more and more every day, I had sought to delay the inevitable as long as I could. Maybe, I reasoned, if I ignored it long enough, I could devise a plot to trick both sides of my Times-Delphic identity.

Writer Taylor would simply avoid Editor Taylor, and Editor Taylor would simply avoid Writer Taylor. The two could coexist in mutual oblivion, and I could continue to write story on story as I edit the whole paper and manage the whole staff.

Since that talk, though, I have realized that I won’t be able to write every story that interests me.

Even the story about the set of identical twins on the Drake women’s golf team. Even the story about the Drake men’s basketball team’s buzzer-beating win over in-state rival UNI for the 2014 MVC title (I hope I don’t jinx the Bulldogs).

I have to rely on my staff to take over the bulk of a job I have long loved.

While I won’t be able to give The Times-Delphic as many stories in 2013-14, I hope to give guidance, instead.

It’s a give-and-take at The Times-Delphic, and it’s time I give The TD a new side of me.

What I have learned at The Times-Delphic

When I read and think about past issues of The Times-Delphic, my thoughts hardly transcend the obvious gaffes on the page: an extra period here, no hyphen there. I only have a moment, so I only think about the small.

Big-picture thoughts, good or bad, rarely receive my care. I wrongfully assume I need a few hours — even a day — to contemplate my progress. Wrongfully, too, I make excuses about self-reflection.

I need Confucian or Aristotelian wisdom to truly reflect. I need to eat Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream before I can can explore the deep or complex.

And, the excuse I toss out most of all: I don’t have time.

In this week off, though, I have taken the time to expand my thoughts to the big picture and take a look at The Times-Delphic and journalism beyond the page. Though this week is as busy as any other, I put the excuses away (Ben and Jerry miss my old, expensive excuse, no doubt) and took a look at what I have learned in two years at the TD.

The more self-assured you are, the more likely a source is to open up to you. As a gentle person, I formerly hedged around asking potential sources to speak to me.

My interview request procedure went somewhat like this: “Can I please interview you? If not, that’s OK, too. Just let me down gently, please.”

OK, I may have exaggerated that last sentence.

Now, though, I focus on the source and let him or her know how valuable his or her thoughts on X subject are to the TD and me.

Today, my interview requests are more concise, clear and, I confess, a tad frank. Though the change in tone, which has developed slowly over my two years, yet shocks me, I know sources are more eager to talk to me when I focus more on them.

This “more of you, less of me” idea has grown throughout my Times-Delphic career.

To move beyond commas, hyphens and interview requests, journalism is truly about more of you and less of me.

There are always more of you I have a duty to inform. More of you I have a duty to interest.

Most of all, there are always more of you I have a duty (and desire) to serve.