The Blog

Posting a piece of shocking video from the #OccupyOakland protests/police clash tonight. That’s home for me. Just wish all my friends, any SFSU j-school alum, current and former teachers, and Xpress News staffers a safe night. Well…as safe as they can be in this climate.

More videos at link below:

Meanwhile, I'm watching #OccupyOakland unfold through Twitter. Visceral & raw. Check out the video gallery: http://t.co/7h2iY8Jt

December 31, 1969 7:59 am via webReplyRetweetFavorite

@ChloeS

Chloe Sladden

I caught another video, equally as disturbing…though I have some questions about the editing and its editor. Healthy skepticism. But still disturbing. You can’t make this stuff up.

PHOTOS from Golden Gate Xpress: http://www.goldengatexpress.org/2011/10/26/occupy-oakland/

(Fond memories of my college paper days at Xpress. I miss it.)

PHOTOS from the Oakland Tribune: http://www.insidebayarea.com/top-stories/ci_19188125

photo credit: Bill Pugliano/Getty Images

Okay. I’ll say it…

I’m fascinated by the media coverage of Republican presidential candidate Herman Cain. Over the last two weeks, I’ve consumed all manners of analysis and opinions on the former pizza chain executive’s rise to the top of the GOP field.

The Associated Press says he’s “stumbling in the glare of the national spotlight.” The New York Times has shed light on his introduction to Washington as (gasp!) an industry lobbyist, despite his appeal as an outsider. Miami Herald’s Pulitzer Prize winning columnist Leonard Pitts Jr. has flatly implied Cain “seems embarrassed he’s black.” Cable news network pundits have praised and criticized the catchy and simplistic nature of Cain’s 9-9-9 tax plan, though through poorly stifled laughter. And just about every popular black news blog site — namely The Root, The Grio, HuffPo’s BlackVoices, and Loop21 — has attempted to decipher his seemingly lackluster appeal to black voters.

I’ll admit I’ve been much more interested in black political pundits’ and columnists’ take on the “Black Walnut.” The mainstream media’s coverage of Cain has been predictable. The “Big Guys” have been careful to avoid racial land mines. And much of their hardline analysis has been fair.

But I’ve been disappointed in how many tired comparisons I’ve seen drawn between U.S. Supreme Court justice Clarence Thomas and Herman Cain. I think it was last week we heard Cornel West hurl “crack pipe” jabs at Cain on CNN. And there’s the various black bloggers echoing Pitts Jr. in decrying Cain’s racial politics an identity crisis. The argument could be made that this sort of ethnic commentary is just as predictable as the main stream approach.

I always get the feeling this commentary is based on the assumption (not fact) that, because he has dark skin and is a Republican, Cain suffers from acute Uncle Tom-itis. This is not to say that all authors of commentary critical of Cain subscribe to a common credo — that Democrats, by default, have all the answers to black problems. Too much of what I’ve read and heard is often recycled rhetoric from race debates waged decades ago. Can we (ethnic newsmen and newswomen) move on?

However, in defense of the ethnic press and punditocracy, Cain himself hasn’t made it easy to shelve the race and morality commentary for a focus on issues. In the last two weeks we’ve learned a few things: (Albeit entirely possible that some of it is taken out of context…)

- Cain once wrote that Jesus (Christ) was killed by a ‘liberal court’
- Cain told a CNN anchor that blacks are “brainwashed against the GOP”
- Cain prefers we call him “black American” and not “African American”

…there’s more. But I don’t want to belabor the point, which is that Cain leaves room for character attacks for lack of depth on just about every issue important to voters. Now that the 9-9-9 plan has been thoroughly analyzed, Cain is seen by the media as flailing to keep his lead in the polls.

But I’d implore the ethnic press not to fall back on the tried-and-true Uncle Tom commentary. As entertaining as some may find black-on-black rebuke, it informs no one.

Cain could do enough stumbling from now until primary time that he trips on his own sword. An unfortunate example: his boasting of lacking knowledge of foreign leaders. “Ubeki-beki-beki-beki-stan-stan” may not be on his mind…but Cain was the topic of conversation at Sec. Hillary Clinton’s meeting with Afghan President Hamid Karzai last week.

Now THAT is emasculating.

June was one hell of a month.

It began with me as an employed journalist at a 110-year-old New Jersey newspaper, participating in a week-long fellowship at a United Nations meeting on AIDS. I returned to work recharged and excited about a special project. And then I was laid off. All of that in the span of two and a half weeks. (I would have been at the paper for a full year next week.)

I ended the month feeling as though I’d been forced into rehab — having gone from personal highs for a young journalist’s career to corporate-ordered sobriety. Cold turkey.

Former colleagues, industry friends and family immediately began circling the wagon. “You’ll be better off,” some said. “I’m sure you’ll land well,” chimed another. “I’m not worried about you,” one kindly boasted.

Of course they are right about one thing: I’ll land. The laws of gravity dictate that I must. But land where and doing what? That question echoed constantly in the first few days, as I tried to convince those who had called and emailed their condolences that I wasn’t that stressed. I was going to take my time, I told them. I would apply to jobs that I actually wanted to do. And I would try to enjoy having a little time off this summer.

I kicked off that whole enjoying summer plan by walking to the theater near my apartment to see “Page One: Inside the New York Times.” (The a/c was busted in the theater, which meant matinee tickets were reduced to $5. When’s the last time you paid that little for a movie? And while I’m asking questions, when’s the last time you paid for news?)

On its surface, “Page One” is a decent documentary. It almost convinced me that I’ve chosen the right profession. I laughed at all the jokes. I understood all the lingo. I knew I was witnessing an example of the daily miracle that is the newspaper business. Magically, it all ends up on the page and at your newsstand or your doorstep or your mobile device.

“Page One” also reminded me how much the profession has changed since I decided to pursue this career in high school. (That’s eight years ago, now. Yikes!)

(Full disclosure: My dream is to one day shimmy through the doors at 620 Eighth Ave., ride the elevator up to the news department, plop down at my own desk in the bullpen and phone Mayor Bloomberg’s office as he kicks off his campaign for a seventh term as head of New York City.)

The film attempts to offer a behind the curtain look at the Times’ operation, but the real driving forces of the film were media columnist David Carr, reporter Tim Arango and blogger-turned-reporter Brian Stelter. Freshly unemployed, I wondered if their stories, their behavior and their backgrounds could serve as inspiration for my climb back up the news media ladder.

To borrow a line from late funk musician Rick James, “Cocaine is one hell of a drug.”

Carr kicked his habit and went on to become a husband, father of three and New York Times reporter. (Perhaps if I just … oh, never mind.) Much was made of his sympathetic drug addiction story, but little was mentioned of the professional work he’d done to make him a commodity at the Times. It was as though a Times Co. recruiter found him strung out on the street, cleaned him up and brought him to newsroom. Clearly, the addiction story alone was more cinematically sexy. I don’t doubt his résumé, whether or not it was read in that scruffy voice of his, would impress just about anyone.

We found out, as credits began to roll, that Arango — the young, dreamy reporter in his late 30s — had been named chief of the Times’ Baghdad bureau. No mention of his time at Fortune or anything before that. He’s hot. He has a job at the New York Times. Good for him.

Stelter, the chubby-but-slimming 25-year-old and famed TV blogger, landed at the Times at age 22. His hugely popular blog TV Newser, which he started while in college, got him where he is. At least that’s what the filmmaker would have us believe. (See! Who says writing a blog from your dorm in your drawers won’t get you anywhere?)

I left the theater happy I saw the film, but no more informed about life at the New York Times. It was an encouraging reminder that anything is possible in this business. For that first week of unemployment, I likened seeing the film to the cigarettes one might enjoy while using nicotine patches. I’d like to tear this patch off my arm now and throw the box in the garbage recycling. I’d like to be an employed reporter again.

I’ve had some amazing experiences early on in my pursuit of a media career. From my beginnings at California newspapers as an intern, to stints with the Associated Press and then full-time employment with Gannett, still the nation’s largest newspaper publishing company — it’s all been fulfilling.

It’s fulfilling until it’s over. With no ‘page one’ of my own to write for, no ‘priority one’ news website carousel to break news on, and no special projects to pour my heart into, this blog will have to be it for now.

I’m not one for self-pity parties. I’ve got great mentors, industry friends and personal friends who are helping me follow the yellow brick road — albeit paved with tattered, bloodied newsprint.

July is going to be one helluva month. Wish me luck.

After enjoying a lazy Saturday in Brooklyn, I woke up the next day and found a Japanese noodle bar for Sunday lunch. After that, I decided to grab a few puttanesca ingredients from Eataly. I knew New York’s gay pride parade was that day. I had no clue it would block off most of Fifth Avenue, where Eataly is located.

The energy along Fifth Avenue was palpable. And then it dawned on me they were also celebrating New York’s passage of same sex marriage.

As an “objective” journalist, it’s tough not to feel happy when this nation seemingly lives up to the many tenets of its Constitution. The same amendment providing free speech and a free press also prohibits respecting an establishment of any one religion. There will likely always be many viewpoints on the merits of these principles and how they should be interpreted. Each of those viewpoints deserve reasonable consideration by both the press and elected officials.

“Congress shall make no law…”

“The powers not delegated to the (federal government) by the Constitution…”

And so on and so forth. Yada yada yada.

New York will soon grant of marriage licenses to ALL who want them. That’s a victory for ‘a more perfect union,’ regardless of which side of the issue you stand on.

So, it was nice to see people celebrating after a historic legislative victory in their home state. Did I mention I still pushed through the crowds and picked up my food from Eataly? I picked up fresh whole wheat spaghetti, a bit of grano padano, and pitted Kalamata olives. Mission accomplished.

I’m done. Or, at least I think I am.

My week reporting on the United Nations High Level Meeting on AIDS was extraordinary and eye opening for reasons that are less than obvious.

For one, the nature and scope of the content I produced was unlike anything I’d ever had the opportunity to report. I’d always envisioned the job of an international reporter as mostly dangerous and thankless, but personally gratifying.

I can now attest there are few feelings like being among the world’s leaders and policy shapers on an issue as important as a global pandemic. They — more than 3,000 delegates from 192 countries — came to speak on behalf of their people. And I was there to listen, mostly.

The highlight of my week was the first day (Tuesday): I covered the U.N. Security Council with a bird’s eye view of Amb. Susan Rice and various heads of state, dignitaries and U.N. big shots. A week prior, you would not have convinced me that I’d be doing that. This is stuff I read on the New York Times world section. And I’m covering it.

I filed my stories and images. I ran around the U.N. complex, uncomfortably sweating from the heat in a shirt and tie. I saw and met people from all over the world, dressed as uncomfortably as I was. I overheard at least three different languages that I don’t hear on a regular basis.

Of course, I was hardly alone during this remarkably unusual week.

I got a feel for what it’s like for Miami Herald world editor John Yearwood who, during the taxi ride to the welcome reception at CBS last Monday, told me he’d been to the U.N. on assignment more times than he can count.

Detroit Free Press columnist Rochelle Riley, our project editor, barely made it over to the U.N. complex. Having dedicated her time to see the fellows do excellent work meant she was chained to a seat in our newsroom. Riley and Washington Post transportation and development editor Michael Bolden, the print edition’s chief designer, helped each other fight off cabin fever with lots of laughter.

A host of other mentors — too many to list here — played an integral role in making our work shine … as evidenced by the handful of people I spotted intently reading the print product in the halls of the U.N. Seasoned writer Monica Rhor whipped my stories into shape. Miami Herald photographer Carl Juste inspired me to take my talent for making images more seriously.

And the other fellows: I admit feeling a bit intimidated reading some of their bios before arriving. We were all there to learn. That fact became evident rather quickly. And I watched them do amazing work and land amazing interviews, on deadline. Bravo, gals and guy!

They could not have chosen a better group of people. (I’m biased.) And I couldn’t have asked for a better hotel roomie. As the only males in the group of fellows, Graham Brewer and I bonded before we’d even arrived. He’s an awesome radio journalist and a kinder human being than I. And he’s a father. It’s not too often I run into a young father with a good head on his shoulders.

Carla Pineda shared with the group, and with readers of the publication, her and her family’s struggle to accept the death of a her half-brother, who died of AIDS in the early 1990s. I, in a roundabout way, witnessed her toil with the idea of writing it. I don’t think I’ll ever forget reading it.

“His story – I wish I would have told it,” my mother told me this morning from 3,000 miles away. “And you are honoring me by telling it for me.” — from Carla’s column. Read it here, the third entry down.

Opportunities like the one I shared with such a great group of people come few and far between. I know there aren’t too many jobs willing to give you the time off to complete a fellowship — and during a state primary election week, at that. I won’t take that for granted.

My moonlighting as an intrepid global reporter may have ended last Friday, but I’ve got an itching for more. Perhaps something abroad. I’ve got a few ideas.

To whom do I pitch?

A few pictures from the week at the United Nations:

The fellows and I at the beginning of our three hour wait for press credentials for the UN High Level Meeting on AIDS. Surprisingly, possessing a pass didn’t mean you were allowed in all meetings and in all areas of the UN complex.

It felt like we were applying for driver’s licenses. The line was long enough to give the DMV a run for it’s money.

The view from a Conference Room 4 photographer’s box, while the UN Security Council took up a resolution that addressed sexual violence in conflict zones as a threat to international security.

My equipment during the security council meeting: pen, reporter’s pad, iPhone, UN translator earpiece

After a late night of covering the UN, the view of the UN from our newsroom across the street. The message projected on the building: “Stigma fuels HIV.”

While out on a breakfast run, I spotted Yogi’s cousin taking a load off on 2nd Ave at E. 44th Street.

The view from the 4th floor balcony of the General Assembly. (Only official delegates were allowed on the ground floor.) Here they were debating the political declaration on HIV and AIDS. To my surprise, people boo and hiss assembly speeches they don’t like.

On our last night in New York — and after a few beers — some of the fellows and I etched “UNAIDS” into a bar table at The Ginger Man. This place was right around the corner from our hotel, so I think we may have been there every night except for one.

I’m here.

UNAIDS Djibril Diallo: Upon entering the United Nations complex “you will be plugged into 192 countries.”

Hearing those words during Monday night’s welcome reception for the UNITY Global Reporting Fellowship at the CBS Broadcast Center in New York made this real for me. Leading up to my arrival, I’d only been corresponding with the other fellows and mentors for prep work.

I’ve NEVER done international reporting of any real consequence. As one reception attendee put it — popular Chinese broadcaster James Chau, to be exact — the work we’ll do this week can both save lives and also have the opposite effect.

Heavy stuff.

I’m nothing but grateful for this opportunity. Wish me luck.

I’ve been selected for a fellowship that will take place at the United Nations next month. The blurb my boss put in the company’s weekly inter-office newsletter explains it best:

Reporter Aaron Morrison has been chosen by UNITY: Journalists of Color Inc. for its Global Reporting Fellowship in partnership with the Joint United Nations Program on HIV/AIDS. The June 6-10 UN High-Level meeting on AIDS will be among the most important to take place in recent years around AIDS issues, where world leaders will take stock of global response after 30 years. The gathering presents an excellent opportunity for young journalists interested in honing their skills in international affairs, especially at a time when many news organizations in the United States are reducing international reporting. Morrison’s fellowship begins on June 5, when he and other fellows will meet for orientation ahead of the UN meetings. Congratulations, Aaron.

I’m pretty excited about it. I imagine the experience will be like this: http://youtu.be/a7O8mPlNlRY

Or not.

Little known fact: I was terrified of bees growing up. Having attended a seminar on beekeeping for a story, I can say I’m now interested in starting a hive or two of my own. A few outtakes from the half day I spent with beekeepers:

Here’s the finished article and video piece, published last week.

It’s always nice when sources people are happy to see you. When I showed up to interview a TV Production class at a local high school, this sign was there to greet me. That’d never happened to me before.

Picture: The class teacher.