The act of welcoming the newspaper to their breakfast tables each morning can make readers feel a personal connection with the people who write, edit, take photos for and design their daily paper. It creates a bond that goes far beyond the usual business-consumer relationship.
That leads some readers to express themselves in acutely personal ways, almost like family. The regular flow of feedback is mostly welcome, a reminder of the important role we play in readers’ lives. In what other line of work would a stranger back you up against the lettuce bin of the grocery store to compliment you (or deliver a lecture) on your job performance?
But as is so often the case, this connection can carry a dark side and occasionally gives us a sobering window into the psyches of our fellow citizens.
Awash as we are today in hopes for Peace On Earth and promises of Good Will Toward Men, it is a perfect time to consider what happens on the other end of the phone or the e-mail “In” basket when readers decide to unburden themselves.
Although I can be a sensitive guy with family and friends, nearly 40 years of newspapering has left me with skin like a rhinoceros when it comes to comments from readers. But not everyone is like that, and even I am occasionally stunned at the fury with which some folks express their differences with the newspaper and the people who work here.
For exhibit A, I offer you Kim Crow, our fashion editor.
Kim, who is as engaging, funny and generally delightful a person as you could meet, replaced her column mugshot a few weeks ago with a photo that better reflected her changing “look.”
Proving that readers notice everything, she got some nice compliments about it. She also got the following two voice mails:
“Your hair is too stringy to wear long.”
“You’re still a dog.”
If you’ve seen Kim’s photo, you know that she is anything but a “dog,” but even if she were unattractive, whatever would possess someone to pick up the phone and leave a message like that?
A couple of weeks earlier, she had gotten an even nastier message, after her story about some donated clothing that replenished the wardrobe of a woman who had lost all her clothes in a flood. A caller took vigorous issue with the selection of a $150 pair of jeans that was included in the redo and punctuated her message to Kim with the following:
“You’re such a train wreck. I don’t know why I read you. The only thing I’d spend $150 toward is to see you die.”
Or consider the experience of reporter Sandy Livingston. A couple of months ago, after she co-wrote a story about a controversial land sale to the Cuyahoga Metropolitan Housing Authority, she got this charming voice message from a woman who apparently assumed that one or more of the people involved in the sale was Jewish: “I just have one thing to say — when you see the Jews coming, slit their throats.”
Although her last name doesn’t announce it, Sandy is Jewish herself, and as you might imagine, she was deeply offended by the call. Perhaps her name emboldened that caller, and a similar one she got later, but once again you have to ask yourself: Who would leave a message like that?
This episode reminded me of former Plain Dealer reporter Paul Shepard, who was working on a sensitive racial story when I arrived at The Plain Dealer. Paul is a large, imposing black man, but that was not obvious from his telephone voice, which made some readers who assumed he was white feel free to pepper their calls to him with the N-word and other racial insults. Paul, who had heard it all before, was stoic about it, but I know the calls bothered him. I sometimes fantasized about inviting these readers to visit the office and repeat their remarks to his face. Unfortunately, people like that are rarely brave enough to leave their names.
The abusive messages aren’t always racial, but a lot of them are, like the (unsigned) letter we got after the Race for the Cure in October that bitterly denounced our photographer for “waiting” to take a panoramic photograph that had a black man in the middle.
“No black persons were there,” said the letter. Well, I was there and saw plenty of black persons. But a better question is, what kind of person counts these things, and worries about them?
As Reader Rep, I come in for my fair share of abuse, which is rarely troubling but usually puzzling.
Not long ago I got a message from a guy who accused me of fence-sitting and suggested I get up close and personal with a fence post, barbed wire and all. It was so over-the-top profane that it got almost funny, and I played it for many colleagues — some of whom I thought enjoyed it just a bit more than necessary.
But the caller didn’t mean it to be funny, and most times these things are not funny. They are meant to hurt, and sometimes they hit their mark. Not everyone has rhinoceros skin, even in the newspaper business.
In the spirit of the season, I would ask everyone for the gift of civility, remembering that when you write or call here, the recipient is not just a line of 10-point type, but a real person with feelings and a soul.
We’re glad to hear from you, but you don’t have to scream insults to get our attention. All you have to do is make sense.
