A Dose of Humility: Adopting a Personal Tone, Being a Conduit in Blogs, Business and Life

[Dr. Frank] Ochberg designed the Dart Award for Excellence in Reporting on Victims and Violence. After years of talking to the winners, he says the best stories are those in which the reporter sees herself as a conduit, the means by which a source can tell his story, he says. Whether it's a doctor discussing a horrific day of amputations or a mother describing the loss of her children, when the reporter lets the source tell the story, the story gets stronger. - Poynter Online, "Covering Trauma & Tragedy: What it Takes"

In additional to journalism, any perceptive business person can surmise my point is also that the best marketing, the best products, or the best _____ most often emerges if we drop our agendas for a moment and allow ourselves and our companies to be simply a conduit that welcomes our customers with a space to speak and be listened to.

Reflecting on my More Space essay related to empathy in business, I notice that one can totally miss the mark when the emphasis and interest in empathy skills stem primarily in its effectiveness in persuading and selling - rather than in understanding. And this is a risk factor in many blog initiatives as well.

My totally unintended foray into citizen journalism as well as being on the other receiving end of the media coverage left me with a few lasting impressions. I was turned off by media people that distanced themselves from the depth of the story, and me. They had their questions and story outline written in their minds, and didn't truly listen to see where the dialogue naturally unfolded of itself. I was distraught to be sure, but that's to be expected in these situations; a light touch would have ellicited a far different response.

You walk off a C-130 in Bangkok from tsunami-torn Phuket and the media is busily snapping pictures from afar. But all too often they didn't engage with their subject matter - whom by the way happen to be frightened and shaken human beings, not pieces of building wreckage strewn on the beach. Talking about the event with media (small and big) and what I witnessed was far from healing; I only did it as I thought it might help with getting attention on the area and its relief needs.

If media professionals aren't trained in handling people with sensitivity and empathy, I'm not sure that untrained citizen journalists and employees unskilled in interpersonal communications will fare much better. I say this because it wasn't only the media that was unempathetic. Even friends and (gasp!) church members can be at a loss on how to communicate with you and unintentionally and potentially cause more harm than good. The only cathartic, healing and thus human conversations that occured were with others familiar with trauma - even if they were complete strangers - as well as those that weren't throwing up barriers to "getting too close."

It's all to easy to dismiss and lump all big media as inhumane and soul-draining (and for that matter corporations), but that shifts the responsibility away from individual journalists and employees.  And reading some excellent coverage lately by empathetic writers, some Poytner Online articles, and the Dart Center for Trauma & Journalism site has me understanding that good journalism - and by extension, good journalists - isn't supposed to be soulless.

I know bloggers get on their high horse sometimes, but merely wearing the blogger label and installing a Movable Type weblog does not instantly imply an authentic voice and a connecting conversation. Citizen journalists and business bloggers aren't necessarily going to be any better at this stuff than big media and corporate public relations without an intention and commitment to be fully human.

[A] blogger has the option to adopt a much more personal tone than a journalist can. Most print publications have a house style which journalists have to adhere to, but on a blog, he can express himself as he wishes, which, in turn, increases the degree of familiarity that readers feel towards him. - "Blogs - The New Journalism", India Express, by Amit GVarma

Note that Amit GVarma, the India Uncut blogger whom chose to cover the tsunami aftermath in Tamil Nadu from his blog rather than for traditional media, stresses that we are given an option as bloggers to adopt a more personal tone. My sincere hope is that bloggers of all stripes and persuasions will see the inherent and differentiating value in saying yes! to this choice.

Here's a list of writers, bloggers, and articles that have really made me believe that it's not solely a question of whether you write for the New York Times or Gawker or Corante, but how you engage in the process that makes the difference:

India Uncut's Tsunami Despatches. I've already lauded Amit's excellent writing.

Dart Center for Trauma & Journalism site in general is a fabulous resource on ethics and handling stress and includes journalists' own personal stories, and outstanding advice for bloggers as well (found via TsunamiHelp Wiki).

Poynter Online (excellent) Series for Dealing with  Tsunami, Trauma and Journalism.

Being open to emotional experience makes you a better reporter. If you can't empathise with those whose story you're reporting, you won't be able truly to reflect their experience. But being open, and engaged with intense human distress, means also being open and vulnerable to its longer-term wounding impact. [And that's why the Dart Center is committed to help writers and journalists handle the lasting impact of feeling and relating deeply.]

Below I include snippets from some moving empathetic writing:

The Hindu's three-part series, by Amitav Ghosh, internationally renowned novelist: See Overlapping faults, No aid needed, The town by the sea (via India Uncut).

I turned to follow him and we were heading back towards the blazing palms, when he stopped to point to a yellow paint box, peeping out of the rubble. "That belonged to Vineeta, my daughter," he said, and the flatness of his voice was harder to listen to than an outburst would have been. "She loved to paint; she was very good at it. She was even given a prize, from Hyderabad."

I had expected that he would stoop to pick up the box, but instead he turned away and walked on, gripping his bag of slides. "Wait!" I cried. "Don't you want to take the box?"

"No," he said vehemently, shaking his head. "What good will it do? What will it give back?" He stopped to look at me over the rim of his glasses. "Do you know what happened the last time I was here? Someone had found my daughter's schoolbag and saved it for me. It was handed to me, like a card. It was the worst thing I could have seen. It was unbearable."

Jeff Greenwald's Tsunami Relief Dispatches, EthicalTraveller.com.

We have no toys for the nearly 600 children in Komari, but we will give them a sport kit. The word goes out for a children's meeting, and the response is electric. The kids leap up from The Lion King, and form two groups — boys and girls — around us. Harshana takes center stage, and conducts the poll.

"How many for cricket!" he demands.

The boys' hands fly up.

"How many for volleyball?" The girls' hands wave.

"And how many for football?" This time, every hand in the group shoots into the air. The choice seems clear — but there are hundreds of kids. Lyn, Harshana and I exchange a look, and shrug.

Ten minutes later, we witness what must be the most satisfying sight one can see in the world of disaster relief. Scores of formerly listless kids are running and shouting in an open field, their football and cricket games in full swing. Some distance away, the Sri Lankan Army's Special Task Force is helping set up the volleyball net.

We leave before the inevitable happens, and the Frisbee ends up on someone's roof.

Advice From One Who's Been There, by Patrick Hamilton, award-winning photographer.

He recalled “running on pure adrenaline” for most of the time. After the first couple of days, he said, there was a slight lull in the output expected of him, so he decided to go out and photograph some of the bodies.

“But when I got out there, I just put down my cameras and helped out instead. I helped recover bodies because that’s what needed to be done and I was there. Those images, which I didn’t capture on film, still fill my brain.”

At the time, Patrick and wife Yasmin had a daughter, Tatjana, who was only six months old.

“I was out in the Sissano Lagoon when this little body of a baby floated past and was scooped up by someone in a net.

“That hit me pretty hard, but I learned that it’s important to cry, to have a release from all the tension that builds up.”

A Question of Faith in the Face of Disaster, by Emma-Jane Kirby, BBC.

And its an ugly thought that journalists like us raise our profiles on the backs of stories such as these. I just wanted to stay in the shower forever and wash off the fact that I was pushing my career forward on the back of twenty-six tiny children’s deaths.

It was a basketball court. In one corner were two or three basketballs and in the rest of the basketball court there were twenty-six white coffins. I was shocked to see how small the coffins were, and they were all open. Some of the children were sitting up in their coffins. They were a sort of grey colour and very battered and bruised. Their families had sat them up so they could dress them in their favourite football colours.

One little boy was being dressed by a Red Cross worker who was sobbing as he was doing it. Another child was being cuddled by his big sister - who couldn’t have been more than twelve. She was saying to him, ‘It’s okay, we’ll let you go back to sleep. We’re just putting your football kit on then we’ll let you go back to sleep’.

If you are aware of additional related resources and examples of journalism and/or writing, please let me know.

Comments

[amit varma]

Hi Evelyn, found your site through technorati, and it's a fascinating read. I'm flattered by all your mentions of me, but I'm afraid you've mis-spelt my name - It's Amit Varma, not Amit Garma!

Cheers.

[Jill]

The reports you feature in this post do more than anything I've read recently about the tsunami to break my heart again. Maybe breaking your heart over and over breaks it open to full flowing compassion.

Thank you for finding these and featuring them