Like so much of the most interesting mail I have received over the years, this piece was anonymous. Which is not to say it wasn’t signed. It was, by “A P—————- Reader.” (Hyphens courtesy of me.)
P.R., as he will be known for this purpose, pecked out his angry message on a manual typewriter onto one of those white post cards with the postage already stamped on it. He did this in 1984; the postage was 13 cents.
I kept this post card all these years because of its penultimate line, the one before P.R. signed off with his descriptive appellation. This line shouted volumes to me.
P.R.’s peevish note was about his perception that buying ads was a prerequisite to news coverage. But after several accusations about that particular conspiracy theory, he landed this (all caps) punch:
“AND TO THINK YOU JERKS DROVE NIXON OUT OF OFFICE.”
An eloquent if blunt underscore, I thought, for all he thought was wrong with his local newspaper. A 10-year-old hurt that still explained everything to him. Bottom line for P.R., quoting bards of different ages: ” . . . that is all ye know on Earth and all ye need to know.” (John Keats) And, “Boom, boom, out go the lights.” (Pat Travers)
So I held onto P.R.’s note as a timeless reminder about readers and their newspapers, and how one thing — reasonable or unreasonable — could spell the end of communication. And I recently hauled the note out of my box of goodies and baddies after reading the latest poll on what people think of the news media. The card is my reality check, kind of a “don’t get too big for your britches” poke in the ribs.
The Pew Research Center for the People and the Press reports that if this isn’t exactly a Sally Field moment for the news media (you don’t really, really like us . . . yet), it’s downright close to one.
Pew’s numbers show that after the horrors of Sept. 11, more people think the press cares about doing a good job, more people think the press is pro-American and pro-democracy, more people think the press cares about the people it reports on, more people think the press is “moral.”
That’s the bright side.
The darker side of that news: A lot of people still think the press is biased in its reporting, and a lot of people still think we’re the gang who couldn’t get the facts straight and try to hide it when we don’t.
It’s been my experience that the dark stuff sticks. Reference P.R., still nursing the Nixon grudge a decade after RMN resigned.
All of which is an elaborate way of saying that what readers think is important, and how we listen to what readers have to say is also important.
That’s why so many newspapers have a version of me — a public editor or an ombudsman — designated to listen to readers and to report their verdicts to the folks who put together news media products.
And that’s why so many newspapers have reader advisory boards.
All of which is an elaborate way of inviting you to apply to be on The Courier-Journal’s 2002 newsroom reader advisory board, not to be confused with the editorial page’s Forum Fellows program.
We’re looking for a dozen men, women and younger people to comprise a board that will meet every six weeks to discuss what has been in the newspaper, what hasn’t been in the newspaper and what you think about that.
We’re looking for folks who reflect the community in all its diversity of race, religion, gender, age, income, geography, political persuasion and philosophy.
We’re looking for people who aren’t shy to speak their minds — and who aren’t reluctant to learn something new about a community institution.
Best yet, you don’t have to be a subscriber to apply for the board, because we’ll want to know why you don’t take the newspaper.
If this sounds like something you’d like to do, here’s how to apply:
Please write a 300-word letter to me, explaining who you are and what attributes you’d bring to this board; please keep in mind the diversity issues I highlighted earlier. Then, mail or e-mail your letter to me at READER ADVISORY BOARD, c/o Pam Platt, The Courier-Journal, P.O. Box 740031, Louisville, Ky. 40201-7431; or, pplatt@courier-journal.com
Don’t forget to sign your full name — no initials or descriptive appellations like P.R.’s, please — and include your address, daytime telephone number and e-mail address, if you have one. And dash all that off to me by Jan. 3.
I can’t promise that we’ll always come to a meeting of the minds. I can’t promise that everything will be hunky-dory by the end of the year.
But what I can promise is that these won’t be one-way sessions; there will be give-and-take and we will listen. And I can promise that, unlike my old friend P.R., you’ll have the opportunity (if you also have the inclination) not only to sound off but also make constructive points. We might, however, want to start with more recent history than President Nixon’s political demise.
I look forward to hearing from you. Remember, the deadline is Jan. 3.
