Flashback: Ye Olde Washington Semester

When people ask me why I initially decided to do the Washington Semester Program, like for most things in my life, I have my mom to thank.

My mom, Kathleen Sheedy, was going to Indiana's St. Mary's College in 1975 when she saw a sign posted advertising the Washington Semester Program. Although the sign stipulated that she must be a government major (which she was not), she ended up making a spur of the moment decision and tried to apply anyhow, choosing a random subject - Economics, even if she had almost no background and the rest of the applicants were already Econ majors.

Proof, it seems, that being qualified is totally overrated. [not that you didn't do a great job, mom, I'm sure you were fab]
(She semi-jokingly attributes her acceptance into the program to the fact that she was one of 3 women in the class of 25 or so men making up the Economic Policy Program)

Her dad, on his way to becoming a prominent Milwaukee judge, helped get her an internship with Henry S. Reuss, a congressman from Wisconsin, for whom she worked on the hill in Rayburn House. The best part, she says, was getting to go to hearings, even if she doesn't recall all the speakers or topics discussed. Just being able to mill around in the Capitol was enough.

And in those days, there was no security in the Capitol. Can you imagine - no lines, no slow old congressmen taking their grand ol' time "removing any items from their pockets", no curt, unnecessarily unfriendly ID-checking security guards. Must have been lovely.

During her time at AU she lives in Anderson Hall, and met a group of friends that, to this day, she stays in touch with.

My mom, Susan Dalton, Kym Waits, & Jeanne Burke

I asked her a couple more in-depth questions about her time & relationships in D.C. -

Q: Are you still in touch with the people you met on the program? If so, what did they think of it?
A: I think I put forth the effort to keep in touch with those I liked the most. We all came from different schools, so we all had to make friends. We all thought the semester was the smartest school decision we had made. Maybe we liked the fact that we did not have many tests, but the lessons and the speakers made all the topics seem relevant and practical. We were learning life lessons, not just textbook examples.

Q: What was your favorite part of the program?
A: Living in DC and having access to the Capitol.

Q: What did you learn?
A: Where to get a great cheap lunch in the house. - I learned that changing schools and meeting new people was easier than I thought.

Q: How has it helped you in your life?
A: It has made me open to change and new experiences. It is easy to get comfortable.

Q: Do you think you changed as a person? As a professional?
A: I think because of that semester, I transferred schools and changed majors. I think living in DC for two more years changed me as a person.
    This had such an impact on my college experience. I felt that all my kids should experience DC from the Washington Semester perspective. I graduated from Georgetown and lived in DC for two more years, but the program structure and requirement of two full days of internship was the key to understanding working in DC. I found that, because all the other students were doing the same, we experienced DC from a different perspective. We were not students there, but rather paraprofessionals getting our feet wet. 


So gracias madre - glad I could continue the legacy. Hopefully one day I'll be showing my own kid some horrifically out of date photo and insisting, just as adamantly, that somehow, yes, that hairstyle was in fact in style.

Candid

The first of December??! Good lord.
where has this year gone?

I'm not usually one for time-flies-when-you're-having-fun sort of statements, but good golly, it seems like just yesterday I was assessing the dire state of my dorm room carpet, and now here I am, resignedly accepting the design reason behind the murky colored flooring.
(sometimes, not knowing is better).

And on top of all that, we had the. coolest. speaker today. Not because his speaking skills were anything particularly stellar (though his stories were engaging), but because he has the.coolest. job of anyone we've seen so far. And I realize that this is a totally subjective statement - but seriously, how great would it be to have the title "National Geographic Documentary Filmmaker" ??

Pretty. darn. great.

John Bredar has made 26 documentaries, for which he has won 3 Emmys and a Peabody award. His most recent film, "The President's Photographer", tracks the life of the personal photographer to the President of the United States. I didn't even know the president had a personal photographer. I mean, I guess it's one of those things that you sort of assume, but don't really think about (unless you've got a creative think-outside-the-box mind like John Bredar, who got the idea while working on a former documentary after noticing a strange man popping up in all of his shots).

The topic is unbelievably interesting though. The photographer's main goal is to be invisible, and he prides himself on how insignificant he can be to the president's day to day life. His highest praise is to be ignored.
How many people can say that? (Admittedly, not as many as most of us would like).

I highly suggest watching the doc, which you can see here: http://video.pbs.org/video/1672209202/

After listening to John, I'm convinced that documentary filmmaking is the perfect solution for those of us who believe that the time that daily news journalists are allowed to spend with interview and story subjects is much much much too short.
Think. As a doc maker, I'd essentially get to stalk my subjects for weeks - even months! How fabulousss! it's like people watching to the extreme.

So essentially, it looks like my future now holds one of two possibilities: an Emmy, or one heck of a lot of restraining orders.

 

 

 

photos courtesy of The WH Flickr page & various other websites

"Even Worse Than We Had Hoped"

So, today we ended the day with a bit of a downer.
But you know what? I have a confession to make:
                                 Sometimes, I really like negativity.

I know, I know - I can already see all of you who know me snickering - "sometimes"!?!
And it's true - when it comes to my overall outlook on life, I may tend to tip the scales in favor of cynicism just a tad more often than not - a quality of which I assure you, I am not proud.

However, my propensity for seeing the glass half (or admittedly, as much as 3/4) empty makes me that much more appreciative of those wonderful few who can assess an unfortunate situation and come out smiling, convinced (at least on the surface) that the best is yet to come.

Paul Spellman is not one of those people.

His forecast for the TV news industry was anything but sunny. The stories, though at times visually entertaining, are essentially unimportant, overly simplistic and about "the silliest things". It pays you too little and works you too hard for the amount of personal reward it generally fails to deliver.

Poor Paul, his demeanor roughly resembling that of Steve Carrell in "Forty Year-Old Virgin", just could not catch a break. He worked his butt off to get a "one-man band" job that ultimately ground him into not only a financial, but a physical and emotional hole, only to move on "up" to a position that was somehow even less gratifying than the exhausting one he'd risen from.

And to make matters worse, his less than chipper personality hardly condoned the feel-good response that local TV news so often seeks. "I just come across as very serious," he said a bit resignedly, referring to how just his on-screen presence brought a totally somber air to what was intentioned to be a perfectly lighthearted piece.

Paul is now a lawyer, and he insists that it's only for the money insomuch that the money in TV News wasn't enough motivation to stick with something he didn't enjoy. It's probably all for the better, seeing as the first impression he engenders tends to suit his current job-title moreso than it ever would "news anchor". Nonetheless, I couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for Paul, who had to resign from what had once been such a fervent passion to a job in which he seems mildly content, if not slightly disappointed.

"Even Worse Than We Had Hoped" is the title of his book - very telling, I'd say, of the anchor-turned-lawyer's oddly good-humored cynicism.

But sometimes you just need a hearty dose of negativity to move on forward. Yes, it's true, I fully believe in the power of a good, long whine.

And with my boundless positivity, it's hard to believe, I know.

Essence

"This is just an era of my career," said Cynthia Gordon, Washington correspondent for Essence Magazine.

And something about the way she said that it was so reassuring - like it's OK to make little forays into new areas - to try something different, and just because you do so doesn't mean that you'll be doing that forever, or that you've somehow committed the rest of your life to this one pursuit - just that you're exploring possibilities.

It's OK to bounce around a little bit, see what you like, and take it from there. It's not always the GOGOGO - pushpushpush never stop - never slow down - never take a breath or make a wrong move ever world that everyone's got us so hyped up about.
Learning's not just for college - it's OK to save a little bit for the next seventy years or so. God forbid we haven't outlined bullet point by bullet point our entire existence by the time we're twenty.

Cynthia is 29 - really young in Washington terms - and she's already interviewed the President of the United States twice. But to end her profile there would be incredibly shallow, and though the risk of that description hasn't deterred me before, I want to highlight the fact that she has really tried out a diversity of journalistic forms.

She actually studied "Creative Non-Fiction" in college (an interesting concept in itself), then worked for Essence in New York; first for the arts & entertainment section, where it was her job to "be out" and just experience the culture of the city, then after some time, for the news portion, where she finally got to write what she loves most - long, "beautiful" narrative pieces about real peoples' struggles.
Ever since since moving to D.C., however, she's mostly written short, quick pieces for the website - a big shift away from her previous work. Nor is the content itself exactly her bread and butter; more politics, profiles and policy and less of the eloquent long-form personal stories that she's really passionate about.

But her optimism and the reassurance that this is just a phase of what's sure to be a long and varied career really helped to take the pressure off all of this life planning that I'm starting to get myself so worked up about.

I also loved how she scoffed at the fact that everyone makes politics seems so complicated, when really, she said, it just boils down to groups of people who want something - not such a foreign concept after all.

Once again, like yesterday's German speaker, I really appreciated her candidness and blunt overview of the highs and lows of her job. Those sorts of analyses are the most helpful.

     -  Press briefings aren't news / it's not the issues that drive the story, it's the people / print journalism   isn't over, but being just a print journalist is / pitch an interview by saying how its beneficial to both of you, and ask hard questions by hiding behind statements like "our readers think..."

Good stuff like that.

Feedback? Well, my mom will tell me if my tie is not tied correctly.

Today was so refreshing - even if I only understood about 1/3 of it.

This afternoon we went to the ARD German TV Bureau in Georgetown and spoke with Klaus Scherer, ARD's Senior Correspondent. He told us all about his job, which consists of doing hard news stories, background pieces ("a small story to represent a big one"), and even documentaries - all of which the German people mandatorily fund. He also does commentary, which is tough, because once the audience knows his opinion, they can then blame him later on for being biased even when he's doing a straight news piece. 

Klaus mimicking how an earpiece works

Klaus was so honest and blunt and just really forthright about stuff like that. He really let us in on the real challenges that he has to deal with as a correspondent - like getting past each country's stereotypes and quirks, and dealing with the difference between what sells / what is the easiest to cover / and what is the most newsworthy & important information.

He gave one example of a hurricane that was supposed to hit Florida but ended up changing direction at the very last minute, leaving the reporters in Florida bereft of any story. So instead, those still in the area decided to cover "how happy everyone was that there was no hurricane" as opposed to moving on to another important issue elsewhere. 

Klaus on TV commentating

He also mentioned how nowadays too often are reporters going into a situation knowing exactly what type of story they are going to get from it, when instead they should be looking for something new and surprising (something I've grown more and more aware of during my stay here, and that I honestly think needs some real looking into...news is not what you think is going to go on, it's what is really going on, and just because it's possible to find examples that support your hypothesis doesn't necessarily mean your hypothesis is right). 

but anyhowww...

I even loved hearing about the stupid little pain in the butt technical stuff - like dealing with delays, mics that fall out of your ear, and your own echo when communicating via satellite - Or not being able to wear a blue or green tie because the image on the blue/green screen behind you will then appear in the stripes - or how at some point, you stop listening to a person's words, and just wait for them to take a breath or say 'um' or 'ah' so you can cut them off and still make the time limit. 

good, really important stuff like that. 


really made me love Europeans even more. 
Not that all Europeans are honest and forthcoming. That would be a stereotype and a generalization Klaus would advise against. 

Klaus showing us how the monitor works

Klaus and his German (and Chinese) companions

Ed Henry & Chrissie Russo / Siena College

So I, as the officially sanctioned class photographer, was invited to come along today on a brief little journey to the White House, where I put my absolutely non-existent photographic training to good use capturing Siena College alum, Ed Henry, and current student, Chrissie Russo, together in one beautiful end-of-the-semester pose.

Enjoy.

naturally I managed to squeeze my way into one.

Politicorn on the cob

Today we welcomed another home-grown hero.
That's right folks - ol' Wisco is representin' again. Must be something in that hearty diet of corn and cheese us midwestern folks is raised on that makes the mind grow strong.

And seriously, Oshkosh-native Jim Vandehei has one strong mind. Not just in the sense that he is a powerful powerful intellectual force to be reckoned with, but in that this man sticks to his guns. When he's right, he's right, and nobody is going to convince him otherwise.

Jim created Politico.
Yeah - the same Politico that everyone in DC talks about non-stop - he made that. So one day, Jim, former assistant brick-layer, gets inspired when he's looking at the internet and realizing how it's creating this journalistic opportunity to do only stories that are new and interesting - no more of this "obligatory" journalism stuff (covering boring people with important titles saying boring things).

Why not just pick and choose the few stories that are really good, and then put the best reporters you can find on them. Win-win. (or win-win-win, as Michael Scott would suggest).

Well, everyone loved his idea, and everyone wanted a piece of it (everyone with money, that is, because otherwise who cares?). Now, Politico employs 200 people, has a huge profit margin, and commands the attention of everybody who's anybody on Capitol Hill & in the White House. 

It gets into the "nitty gritty"of politics. Who likes who, who hates who, who's out to get who, etc, etc.
And seriously, this stuff is interesting. I know the word "politics" is off-putting in itself - but think of it as Gossip Girl on the Hill. All these catty men (& to be fair, women, though I'd like to think that the men are what make this fine government the dysfunctional and scandal-ridden institution it is) in their secret wars - theoretical friends, personal enemies, committed to justice publicly, morally astray privately.

Even better than Gossip Girl, I'd say, - I mean, you expect this sort of behavior from spoiled New York teens (or 30 yr old actresses/same difference) - but not from the supposedly honorable collection of representatives charged with the task of running our nation. That just makes it so much more salacious.

Anyhow, Jim started this publication (print & online), and takes it very seriously.
He started the Q&A real casual, and then got extremely intense about what he expects both from his employees and from his business.
 -- There is no marketplace for mediocrity, we hire people who play to win- who have a track record for kicking ass, we have the constant mindset of a revolution --
Real hardcore stuff.

Major plus? According to Jim, journalism is well and alive.
Now prove it and hire me.

"Olive oil, a pinch of cayenne pepper, and believe it or not - honey!"

I went over to local NBC affiliate, NBC-4, today to get a brief tour from Katie Roberts, former intern and current employee of the station.
She works for Liz Crenshaw, the featured subject from a couple of posts back.

That is one stylish office/bureau, let me tell you. Really well-organized with a stylish stream-lined and high-tech design, - just a really nice set up.

(- "And what's in these rooms!?" I asked, pointing to the 4 neon lit doorways lining the bureau wall.
- "Oh, those are closets.")

After Katie showed took me around to the control room and various other studios (Meet the Press is actually filmed in that same building), and showed me the corner where she sits with Liz and her producer working on consumer reports, I sat in for the NBC-4 at 4:00 live broadcast with Pat Lawson Muse and Jim Handly. I've never watched anything like that before, and it was SO interesting to see how a local live broadcast looks when not on the TV screen.

It was really quite strange, because for as fast-paced and sound&graphic packed as local news is, the studio is extremely quiet and calm. All the jumping around is just digital maneuvering and switching between different rooms and video clips, so the studio in which the anchors actually sit stays really quiet. There's almost no talking, except the bits of chit-chat during commercial breaks (astoundingly serious conversations on topics like why Bristol Palin has made it this far on Dancing with the Stars, and how best to prepare butternut squash [see title]).

Oddly enough, over the course of the hour, these off-camera conversations started to make their way into air-time, filling up the live broadcast with the casual chit-chat for which local news is so often mocked. With the hard news out of the way, things very noticeably began to lighten up.

Really fun to watch, though. And the anchors were both so nice! Right when I sat down they each waved to me and said 'hi' from across the room - just seconds before going live. Jim even thought that I was an intern (some day - let's cross our fingers).

mmm

Iran, Onions, & 3-Hour Interviews

"I love onions. I love onions on my hamburger," said Gerald Ford to Steve Scully during a C-SPAN interview in 2000.

"Mr. President, I asked you about about Iran," said Scully confusedly.

"Yes," Ford replied, "onions."

And in this very moment, former U.S. President Gerald Ford was in fact having a stroke. On camera. Within moments he snapped out of it, and returned seamlessly to the interview, his medical emergency going unnoticed, even by his interviewer.

Steve Scully, Senior Executive Producer and Political Editor at C-SPAN recalled the moment with a strange wistfulness, his piercing blue eyes somehow managing to maintain an eerily intense eye contact with the entire class at once. Admitting that it wasn't until that evening that he realized the full gravity of what had transpired before him, he gave a slight chuckle at the event's sudden and unexpected turn to breaking news.

These days, however, he's much less likely to have such an experience, and works mostly in production at C-SPAN, doing very little reporting of his own. In truth, C-SPAN itself produces only 20% originally generated content, specializing mostly in long-form government feeds from the House, Senate and various other DC political hubs [interesting fact: Al Gore was the first person to appear on both the House and the Senate C-SPAN cameras].

Sure, the cable-funded channel does create some of its own interviews, but even these are long - many done in a 3-hour format. Sometimes it feels like you could go for 12, said Scully, and sometimes you're 20 minutes in and already diligently counting down the seconds remaining.

mock interview

Scully really emphasized his method of delivering news. By getting beyond what's being reported and taking it to the next step, he works on moving the story forward instead of rehashing what's already been overexposed. That's what a journalist does, he said (it would seem as if CNN and Fox have a severely warped definition of what "a journalist" is).

Despite what I'd thought about C-SPAN, Scully insists that there is a lot of thought that goes into what they decide to air on their station - it's not simply one direct feed after another. Those at C-SPAN do NOT work for the government, - something that, up to this point, I'd sort of assumed to be true.

They do, however, receive funding year after year, negating the need for advertisements - but also for any sort of demographic research, which I think is unfortunate. I believe that if C-SPAN looked a little more closely at their viewership, they could maybe close the gap between the long-debated divide of public interest being "what is in the public's best interest" versus "what the public is interested in".

Go ahead - Target the heck out of those retired grans and gramps lapping up their beloved 6 hour long pension hearings. At least a segment of the audience will be thoroughly entertained.

dream office

c-span radio

Frigid and Fabulous: What the government doesn't tell you

If there were a conspiracy, she would know about it.

A conspiracy concerning what, you ask? Oh, nothing too newsworthy. Just a couple of minor things like the Kennedy assassination, the MLK assassination, and all the recorded events from 9/11.

I'm not kidding. If JFK's real killer were in fact a hostile band of aliens fresh from Nevada's Area 51, this woman would know about it. She works at the National Archives, and her title of "screener", puts her in the position of scanning the incoming records for major events and then deciding what to withhold from the public (for national security, personal privacy, etc...) That means that she sees everything, even that which is unavailable to the rest of us.

I think the Supreme Court should allocate some of its security for this woman and her friends. Can you imagine what their watercooler conversations sound like? (I'm not even going to attempt a potential exchange here - as I not nearly well-versed enough in conspiracies to pretend like I could conjure up a plausible scenario.)

I will, however, tell you that should I suddenly and unexpectedly take a keen interest in any top-secret official government sort of matter, the National Archives will be my first stop.

Just the publicly available records alone are incredibly revealing, and our class listened to some eerily intense recordings made the morning of September 11th, 2001 that I'm surprised have managed to exist this long without media exposure (would it be voyeuristic? maybe. hasn't stopped them before).

Anyhow, I just cannot emphasize what an untapped wealth of information lies within the National Archives. After our visit, I'm convinced that I could pick a topic and within weeks uncover some unjustly freed criminal or scandalous correspondences that would land me on page one.

On top of all this investigative stuff, the archives also have AMAZING historical items - like handwritten notes by George Washington and Lincoln, along with drafts of Constitutional Amendments, hand-scribbled edits and all (seeing Lincoln's nomination of Ulysses S. Grant written out in ink on a small piece of notebook paper was so surreal. He really existed. He was really human. So. Weird.)

So, despite the fact that the archives were FRIGID (gotta keep low temps for preservation) and awkwardly short-ceilinged (nobody wants to reach up high on shelves for boxes), they were fabulously cool (no pun intended. Though I guess by acknowledging the fact that I intend to draw no attention to the play on words, it seems I, in fact, do).

Chew with your mouth closed, Yankee

I just want to acknowledge that over the past week I've completely failed at taking pictures. It's not that I didn't have my camera with me, because I did. It's just that either the situation was so terribly unpicture-worthy that I couldn't even be motivated to take my camera from my bag, or otherwise that day's class location happened to prohibit pictures - and I, deciding to take a stab at the whole responsibility thing, played by the rules of a law-abiding citizen.

Monday morning falls into the first category. It's hard to get jazzed about photography in a small, poorly lit room in the back of the press club. Especially when the panelists are conservatively dressed and relatively demure (in comparison to some of our other, slightly more pictorially engaging guests).

Honestly, it's hard to get jazzed about anything on a foggy Monday morning, especially when you've miscalculated travel time, thus forcing you to forgo your now disgustingly essential daily caffeine intake.

This made the 9:30 lecture on media law even more difficult than it needed to be. Court cases, statutes, lawsuits, section suchandsuch of legislative bill soandso...really tough stuff to ingest given the current circumstances.

Which is a shame, really, because the title of the mini-forum was "How to Stay Out of Court" - a fairly important topic, not just for journalists, but sort of in general. Even important enough, I'd venture, to stay awake for.

And some areas were pretty interesting. Like, did you know that someone can sue an anonymous commenter (such as on an online news story)? Apparently, they literally sue "John Doe". No joke.

And have you heard of this family down south that's going around protesting soldiers' funerals, because they vehemently claim that the soldiers' deaths are God's way of punishing us for homosexuality? Lovely, right? But even more interestingly, it's up to the lawyers who spoke to us to defend these bigots, because in doing so, they're defending the right to free speech and freedom of the press.

Frankly, not a job I'd be real gung-ho about doing. I would however, like to avoid being sued, so the info that Laurie Babinski (funnily enough, a former newspaper editor) and Gregg Leslie (no comment for this space) relayed did have some crucial relevance.

I essentially came away with the understanding that if I don't want any trouble, I should avoid insulting anyone's reputation. Apparently most lawsuits aren't a business issue, but instead one based on a tarnished personal image. Internationally, though, this isn't so much of a problem, because many countries actually have "insult laws", which stop you from saying outrageous things about a person, even if they're true.

Even if they're true.

So really, they have the legal written form of our mother's "if you can't say anything nice..." tidbit of wisdom from the good ol' days.

Imagine that. Americans being rude. How novel.

My one covert attempt at a picture, and a perfect example of why I don't make "covert attempts at pictures" more often.

I don't know how to put this - but I'm kind of a big deal.

Say what you will about local TV news personalities (lord knows I have), but you can't say that Liz Crenshaw fits any of the preconceived notions associated with the Anchorman-mimicked bunch.

As she burst into the classroom, clad in all-black and running 5 minutes late, her sense of self-esteem was literally tangible. Not only that, but she knew how to command an audience. And she has to, as she noted, because what use is investigating and reporting if nobody cares about what you've found?

Does that justify the ubiquitous newsperson I-am-going-to-emph-a-size-eevveerrryy-word manner of speaking that so noticeably dominates television news? Of that I'm not so sure, but I do know that Liz Crenshaw knew what she was talking about - so I'll trust her judgment on this one.

Liz is a "consumer reporter". That means that she's the one who does the pieces on why your iron keeps burning your clothes, how to best cook something in the microwave, or (her personal favorite) why people's dishes have all of a sudden been coming out of the dishwasher cloudy.

I know it sounds like puff-work, yet somehow Liz, with her grandiose manner of prancing about the room and forceful, intimidatingly serious presence, made baby-monitor safety tips sound like the most important story of the day.

She had a lot of great tips for us and was extremely blunt in her responses - a method of communication I'm incredibly fond of. If you want to be on-air, you can't be offended by personal criticisms, she warned, not about your hair, your makeup, clothes, mannerisms or voice.

I'm out.

She also touched upon less superficial topics - like man-on-the-street interviews, how to put a new spin on an old story, and how to get a job - and keep it. Liz was, and is, a definite go-getter, and she doesn't let other people do the work for her (or so it seemed, though I imagine that those truly talented at taking credit for other peoples' successes are, well, ... trained at taking credit for other peoples' successes. I'm not going anywhere with this one - just rambling)

She even had a great story about how she, as an intern (or lower level employee, same difference), was featured in the Washington Post for making NBC-4 the first news outlet to have an eyewitness account of the Pope's shooting immediately after it occurred. She had the idea, she made the call, she spoke to the woman - making the local network the envy of all the heavy hitters.

No biggy.
I do that at my internship all the time. Seriously - the bureau practically bows to me as I enter in the morning. I'm that good. 

Anyho0o0o..that's that in the world of TV news talent. I guess all anchormen aren't like Will Farrell, kinda like how all vampires aren't sexy.
(Just the ones on TV... totally misrepresents the species).

A class exposed

We had the greatest journalism class the other day. Incidentally, I almost missed it - lord only knows how my 2 minute stop into Metro Center's Filene's Basement turned into a 2 hour long affair - but let me tell you, I think I redefined the meaning of "time flies".

Anyhow, the class was meant for us to practice our Profile assignment interviewing skills. Each class member was to interview one other student, and then report their findings to the class. So, in the end, we got to learn all this great stuff about everyone in the class.

I loved it. It was like getting through all the small talk in a really efficient, interesting and memorable way. And guess who I got to interview?

None other than our charismatic Professor Klein. I really had too many questions to even begin asking, like when you go to the grocery store and end up leaving the cereal aisle without buying anything. Too many options = no final decision.

I did find out, however, that Prof. Klein never wants to retire. He'll keep working until they make him stop, he said. He also loves PBS documentaries, mostly history-based ones, though I guess that's not so unusual for a person of his age and interests (he is an extremist when it comes to his love for history, "I can feel it all around me", he sighed). Slightly more unexpected, however, was his proclaimed love for the 90s flick "You've Got Mail" - Did not see that one coming.

I also guess that I didn't expect him to come from such a straight-laced family. With his bubbly personality and continual curiosity about others, I was a bit surprised when mentioned growing up in a "country club" family, and that his mother was anything but open.

Moving on though, the next step was to tell the class about our interviewee. This was interesting - I liked seeing how people presented their information. Prof. Klein, for example, mentioned only the 2 or 3 most random tidbits from our conversation - handpicking only the tiny parts that he found most sensational, or story-worthy. It was evident that he'd had some practice with how to draw an audience - how to make something uninteresting interesting. (Even if the wee bits of info that he did choose to tell about me in no way represented even a portion my real self ... Hey, at least they were interesting).

Then we got to hear about everyone in the class. All this stuff I didn't know about! One girl had been a ballerina for 15 years, another girl an actress, and one of our only guys had long wanted to be a professional soccer player. It's so funny how we all ended up in this random journalism program - coming from such diverse backgrounds. We definitely should have done it much earlier in the semester.

Lebowski Lunch

I'd like to say that I am completely and entirely above gawking at a celebrity for the sole reason that they are, in fact, a celebrity.

I'd like to, but unfortunately, I can't.

I'm going to cut myself some slack, though. After all, I am just a 20 year old girl - helplessly influenced by the powerful media moguls, slowly succumbing to the desires of the corporate executives world-wide (Shamelessly [ok, shamefully] I've now become one of the millions who click on my way-too-perfectly-tailored Facebook side-panel ads for gorgeous boots that are - in fact - exactly what I've been looking for. Goodness, Piperlime, Ebay & Amazon, how did you know?!)

Today is a perfect example of how I slipped and went just a wee-bit too far out of my way to attend a lecture on childhood hunger for it to be in any way plausible that the subject of the lecture was in fact its only draw.

Jeff Bridges, as you may have guessed from this little foray into Hollywood post's preview, was today's event's real appeal, as interesting as statistics about school lunches and pizza pockets may be.

Pizza pockets? Apparently, according to Mr. Bridges, by eating such abhorrent monstrosities as a child, we then develop a taste for this sort of fare (or as he would put it, "your palette's gunna dig that stuff"), which leads to obesity later on in life.

And so the obesity / hunger conundrum is solved ; we simply need to remove pizza pockets from our nation's school lunches. Oh! And national security too. Improved school lunches make stronger, more able-bodied children, better able to join the ranks of our brave men and women in the military.

And I think that pretty much sums up Mr. Bridges speech today. Not that it was all about gross 7th grade cafeteria food and child soldiers, but it surely was an interesting mix of him being a casual, lackadaisical "dude", and a passionate spokesman and advocate for a respectable cause - The No Kid Hungry Campaign.

His off-puttingly casual demeanor added an alarming spin to the noble call to arms. Alarming, but I'd say much needed, and refreshingly real in a city built on pre-programmed deliveries and dry, repetitious (& consequently meaningless) messages. I'm much more apt to take a cause to heart if I feel it's being advocated for by a human - not some flag-pin-wearing robot.

I should note, however, that Mr. Bridges was not above pulling a Hollywood stunt or two - even resorting to a fake break down when asked what the most difficult part of being a "famous person" was.
"This is", he said, barely audible amidst his choking and gasping for air, "This is! Stopping childhood hunger!".

Really, Jeff Bridges? Really? I mean, I understand the severity of this issue, and I completely support your desire to use your much-too-powerful-role as a celebrity for good instead of evil, but really? You're going to break into tears spontaneously, in front of hundreds of people, in a response to a completely unrelated question, over pizza pocket lunches?? Really?

Props, though. Your response garnered an applause, which really meant a lot seeing as I'm pretty sure the audience would have clapped should you have picked a booger and held it up proudly for the room to see.

Guess I'm not the only one captivated by celebrity.

Don't Look Back

"When it came time to look for a job, I thought, what did I have fun doing?"

Well,  how very, very optimistic of you Mr. Keith Epstein. It's nice, for a change, to hear someone so casually address the often-demonized job hunt experience. Sure, most of our speakers mention how they "Caught the bug" or "were hooked", but typically follow such fond and euphoric memories with a slightly more sobering account of the actual job hunting process.

Keith didn't seem to have had too tough of a time settling into an area that he found both challenging and rewarding : Investigative journalism. Now, working for the Huffington Post Investigative Fund (which recently merged with the Center for Public Integrity), he has the opportunity to do the types of stories he's always loved; the ones that everybody else doesn't.

He likes to dig up his own stuff - to focus on the things that aren't already on the public agenda, and bring them out into the spotlight.

I'm "paid to be curious", he said, and frankly, that doesn't sound like too bad of a gig to me. He takes the issues and topics that might otherwise remain unexposed, like a fuzzy detail he might catch way far down in a New York Times article, and delves deeper.

He's not chained to one area, one beat or subject, and in that sense, he says, he managed to get away without ever choosing his major.

Very reassuring, considering my current state of indecisiveness.

Other interesting points:

•       Sometimes, you just have to ask. Twice, he's broken a story by simply calling the right (though admittedly naive) employee and just flat out asking for what he's looking for. 

•      You never necessarily finish a story, "you abandon it". Kind of depressing - knowing that there's always something more. 

• "Don't look back" (one of the 3 rules of journalism of which he often speaks, but cannot remember the remaining portion of) You'll only see what you missed, what you could have done better, what the editors changed, etc, etc. Better just to avoid the whole OCD reflection process in general.

• FInally, a blunt take on deciding what to cover:  do the stories that matter, he said, because there are so many that don't.  

Good guy. Liked to talk - but, honestly, who doesn't? Some really good advice too - I really like hearing about everyone's little tricks that they use in the field. I should definitely be compiling some sort of "useful little things to do when nothing else works" book. Journalists are tricksy people, they are.

My preciousss.

Rocking Chair Royalty

Photo of J-class at Supreme Court: Courtesy of Caroline Margaux

The amount of security required to protect just 9 individuals is obscene. Actually, 8, considering that Kagan wasn't even present, leaving the high-backed rocking chair furthest to the right entirely vacant.

Of the 350 staff at the Supreme Court, about one-half are security. They're incredibly on top of it too, not letting even the slightest of wardrobe infractions slide (our largely European class had a particularly difficult time adhering to the "no scarf" regulation). Finally though, after a good hour of making our way from one security checkpoint after another, our class filed into the courtroom in the middle of the proceeding trial.

The supreme courtroom is of almost comically epic proportions. The justices, upon which so much power is bestowed, appear strangely small in their over-sized chairs, seated beneath the grand high ceiling. The decor of the room is all in deep red and gold, with Greek statues and designs lining the towering walls and marble pillars.

Needless to say I myself felt very small, huddled between the masses of people who had come to watch a court case discussing (in painful depth) the differences between type 1 and type 2 automobile safety belts.

Once again, the oddity of the contrast between the grandeur of the room and the smallness of the people and proceedings did not escape me (though admittedly neither did it prove anywhere near enthralling enough to keep me from nodding off every 2 or so minutes).

The justices themselves even seemed to get a bit antsy towards the end of the trial - rocking way far back in their chairs, heads in hands, eyes half shut. Some of them even started to get a little rowdy (rowdy may be -- is most definitely, too strong of a word) - making jokes (the word "joke" here is used lightly), and interrupting the advocates more often with time.

Apparently, specific justices are more prone to quip than others, and sometimes the more seasoned advocates even take a stab at a humorous response themselves. I'd probably take a stab at comedy too if I were a lawyer, considering it's hard to go wrong when the standards for what's funny in such a painfully dry courtroom are encouragingly low.

I also liked how the lawyers continued to address each justice by his or her full name plus his or her title. I'd build up quite the ego hearing my prestigious identity repeated to me 10,000 times a day by quivering lawyers and staff. All I could think about was how, in modern times, we tend to look down upon ancient civilizations and their propensity to transform everyday citizens into "gods", elevating them to positions of terrifying power - worshiping at their feet.

Something about the Supreme Court seemed vaguely familiar.

Siriusly

Bob Edwards literally has the coolest job on the face of the planet.

Every day he gets to wake up, mosey on into work (in whatever attire he so chooses, I might add), and talk to interesting people all day long about their interesting lives. Sure, his official title may be something more official sounding - along the lines of 'talk show host', and it does take a notable skill-set to do what he does, but Bob wasn't one to try to make himself seem more import by citing details like those.

Before starting his long-form interview program at Sirius/XM Radio, the incredibly awesome studios of which we toured Tuesday (radio cubbies lining every corridor, each representing one of Sirius's trillion gazillion shows), Bob Edwards worked for NPR, which he joined in its 3rd year. He hosted All Things Considered and started Morning Edition.

So, essentially, he's my life's goal incarnate.

[Fun fact: Ira Glass (host of NPR's This American Life) was his INTERN! Can you believe that!? Ira Glass is kind of like my 10-year-old self's Britney Spears; I've gotten progressively geekier with age.]

But don't let his disheveled appearance and somewhat bedraggled attire fool you, Bob Edwards is an interview king - he's so good he often-times just ad-libs, making sure to listen closely to their answers in order to make up questions as he goes. Like most of the people we've spoken with, he sticks to his guns when it comes to what makes a good journalist/interviewer/reporter - curiosity, background research, and the aforementioned and all-important ability to listen. In one way, however, he differs - noting that he's not so concerned with letting his opinion seep through anymore. Sometimes his questions reveal an obvious mindset, a fact that he was blatantly at ease with.

Bob was humble, emphasizing that what makes a good interview is the guest, and that if a person is interesting, the best questions are usually along the lines of "really?!" or "no!" - because it's not about him, it's about them, and those types of responses typically elicit more detailed responses.

We finished off the morning by sitting in on an interview that Bob did with the mother of a soldier killed in the Middle East. It was heart-wrenching and literally painful to listen to. Bob was perfect; using his low, husky voice to lead the interviewee along - not with questions per se, but brief comments that drew long and detailed responses.

So, in conclusion:
I Want His Job.

    {    Here's his show's website:   http://www.bobedwardsradio.com/    }

Internship Update

Hey there - I thought I'd just quickly post a little update on my internship at the BBC.

This week has been crazy, with the Midterm Elections and all, and I worked both Monday and Tuesday - even though my typical days are Thurs/Fri. I got some great insight into how a news agency handles really newsworthy events.

Monday I went out into the field with a correspondent, camera man, and news producer for a day of "lives" (live broadcasts - in this case, interviews and pieces to camera). We went to Wilmington, Delaware (home of "the witch"), and spoke to a good variety of people to get a feeling for voter sentiments in the area, huddling in the satellite between each one for warmth.

passively observing a biden rally

wilmington signature statue

sat truck

Tuesday I worked until 2:30AM in the bureau, watching how everyone worked together to put out a constant stream of material to satisfy not only America, but the UK as well - hence the odd hours. Everything ran pretty smoothly, and it seems that everyone's really gotten good at working with one another to make things move efficiently.

Anyhow - just thought I'd briefly let you in on a little of that weekly responsibilities stuff.

Cheers (as they'd say at the BBC)

Colors, p's and q's

What dresses up like Elvis, asks people awkward questions, and draws enough fans to shut down an entire city for a whole day?

Well that, my friends, would be Stephen Colbert.

He and John Stewart, his Comedy Central partner in crime, hosted their Rally to Restore Fear and/or Sanity on Saturday, and made a lot of cab drivers A LOT of money in the process.

Sure, I'm all quippy and over it now, but Saturday I was furiously conjuring up plans for a scathing expose on the incompetency of cab agencies in Washington, DC. - Seriously, how can you just NOT call me back...at all...ever.

Ridiculous. What if I had been mortally wounded!? (and just for the sake of this argument, in my well-thought out hypothetical example, all available ambulances are simultaneously in use). Or in a really big hurry to get somewhere very very important!? Like a rally. That started 2 hours ago. That I missed the first half of.

Ok. There remains the slight potential that I am not, in fact, entirely over it. 

Regardless, even if I did have to hitchhike to it, the rally was such a cool thing to witness, and I'm really glad I risked my life riding with total strangers (read: a really nice old couple who were more concerned about whether we were buckled up, than I assume they were with killing and subsequently eating us) in order to get there.

Despite all the amusing signs, strange costumes, big-name artists and media hype, the thing that stood out the most to me amidst it all was the shocking and unexpected politeness of Saturday's crowd. There were enough "excuse-mes", "pleases" and "thank yous" to dumbfound Julie Andrews, and the average body distance maintained was significantly higher than I've ever seen any church or upper-class gathering.

I've yet to formulate a theory on why this might be - so your guess is as good as mine. I do have to say, though, that it's not what I expected from a rowdy group of largely college-aged kids. Especially since there were SO many different viewpoints present - tea partiers, hippies, main-stream republicans - not to mention the distractingly colorful assortment of quite possibly unstable personalities.

The whole experience was great, though, and totally worth the entire afternoon that it took to get back to the dorm.

Yup. Totally worth it. Completely worth it. It was definitely, most assuredly and unquestionably worth the 4.5 hours of waiting in line, unsuccessfully hailing cabs and missing buses.

No doubt about it. At all. Whatsoever.