In returning to the classroom for the first time in 20 years, I am approaching this semester with some degree of trepidation. I'm unsure of my abilities to grasp new concepts, analyze information, or exercise critical thinking. It's (sadly) not something I do much in my professional life with a global corporation.
This class seemed especially daunting to me. A 9-page syllabus, distributed in plenty of time for me to obsess over it, proved anxiety-inducing. Using content analysis and research methods to understand media portrayal? Did I know how to do that? Would I have enough original thought to earn a participation grade? What the heck is Blackboard/Vista?
Fortunately, the first class was lively and engaging enough to distract me from (most of) my concerns. It was helpful to get an overview of the course, and the initial discussions proved I could keep pace with the rest of the group. I was at least halfway smart enough to get through this.
I also started to see some of the first glimmers and insights that will lead me to a bigger picture of this topic. For example, what the media leaves out or chooses not to cover can shape viewers perception just as much as what's included in the broadcast. When stories portray people in a stereotypical way, those segments serve to reinforce and perpetuate those labels. And very rarely are these tactics intentional or malicious on the part of the media—in fact, they may just reflect convenience, logistics or short deadlines.
But it made me think that we—writers, reporters and producers—have a responsibility to strive for balance. We should recognize that our words and images shape the way people think and see the world. And it is, if we look, a world rich in opportunity to portray that balance. For every young black man arrested for murder, there are four or five (or twenty) earning their Eagle Scout rank. Only when we start telling all these stories will we live up to our edict to really “tell the truth.”
