For many years, I worked as an anthropologist. But somewhere in the middle of those years, I took a detour into being a journalist. My paper was a neighborhood tabloid monthly. The paper’s revenue came from grant money from the city, subscriptions, and ad revenue. Its circulation was about five thousand, and it was not one of the top papers in the Boston Metro area. However, people in the community told me that the local large paper – the Journal – tended to be tossed after a day, but our News stuck around for “bathroom” reading. High praise, indeed, before the internet ruined the journalistic trades.
I guess people liked my brand of journalism, and they promoted me to editor. Anthropologists are not fond of classical rhetoric, and I bet you can imagine my preferences. The paper soon filled with interesting profiles of local artists, crafters, and the history of local institutions. Nobody accused me of yellow journalism; no lurid tales to increase circulation or astounding political revelations. The hottest it got was the several tactfully edited gossip columnists who kept everyone apprised of local rumors, deaths, births, and supposed infidelities at the senior citizen towers.
The editorial committee, however, was not happy. They wanted more snappy, “relevant,” and political stories. The political stuff wasn’t my style, and I searched for a freelancer who might cover City Hall policies towards our neighborhood. We found no one we could afford, and I soon found myself operating as a neophyte political commentator. Then, after only a month or so, I made an enemy at City Hall who threatened to have our municipal grant money cut off. The grant money was part of a Federal Block Grant, and knowing a bit about the feds from having been a “crat” myself, I counter-threatened and offered to call the contracting officer in charge of the grant.
The tit-for-tat brinksmanship continued until it landed in the City Manager’s Office. He called everyone on the editorial board with city ties and made them offers or threats they couldn’t refuse, so much for a free press.
I loved my time as a journalist but had already grown bored. So it turned out that while the Editorial Board was growing tired of me, I was hunting for a new job. And soon, I was a happy bureaucrat at the Department of the Interior.
The new editor called me up about a month later. He was in hot water because he hadn’t been careful in editing the gossip columns. Some tasty and lurid stuff went out. Circulation was up, but so were the threats of legal action.
Ahh, the plight of an editor – nobody is ever pleased.
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Now if I could go back to school again, it would be to become a cultural Anthropologist… I didn’t know this bit of your history til now… you are quite talented my friend… hugs
Thanks, but if you could you’d need to be very careful where you studied. The traditional route is a path to a career as an academic nomad. I’m not sorry that I was forced into the applied side it provided an interesting, and sometimes lucrative career.
I was a journalist for a brief time for a magazine published in the first “big” town to the north, Colorado Central Magazine. I wrote four or five feature articles of the kind you mention — profiles of local artists, events and I had an article about a nearby Hispanic church hanging fire when the editor/owner sold the magazine. I liked the magazine a LOT which is why I pitched myself as a writer when the long, long, long time editor sold it to the woman I wrote for (and who sold the magazine). Rumor has it the new owners will star putting it out again next month but who knows. It was good reading from cover to cover.
Media is a terribly stressed area these days. I just heard today the Popular Science Magazine stopped publication after 151 years. It may relaunch as a webzine, but it’s not sure. I love writing, but would no longer want to be trying to generate ad revenue, up circulation, and pay freelancers a fair wage.
I have the most wonderful ideas for articles (features) for that magazine, but I have to bide my time. Media isn’t just stressed; it’s stressing.
P.S. I just learned that there is an archeological site on “my” refuge where they found evidence of Woolly Mammoths along with a lot of points from various eras. This article talks about the points. https://paleocultural.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/Johnston-2021-Scott-Miller-Projectile-Points-WEB.pdf
I hadn’t considered becoming a journalist but a very long time ago roomed with a photo-journalist and was acquainted with one “guerrilla-humorist” who published a very satirical newspaper. I now lament the difficulty in journalism where people are jostling to be first with a story – and if it has some unsubstantiated reporting or poor diction, there is no rush to improve it.
BTW, I would love to hear more about your foray into anthropology.
Cool. What type of anthropology did you specialize in?
I trained as a maritime anthropologist, but wound up working largely with urban ethnic groups. My focus area was North America and I was a practicing or applied anthropologist, but dipped into teaching as an adjunct for a few years.
Attached to the tail end of BA, MA after my name are those three infamous letters ABD – all but dissertation. I never finished the phd, and it never stopped me from doing anything I felt was important.
I get you! I did not have fun in the doctoral program (in academic philosophy). Ended up dropping out and going for a master’s in jazz music instead.
I’m not sure the doctoral programs produce quality minds anymore; just rigid specialists who have a hard time finding jobs.
I think you made a wise choice.