Race workshop sparks four breakthroughs

It’s not enough to bring minority journalists to the table; you have to listen harder and empower everyone

By Forrest Carr

The Columbia Graduate School of Journalism’s “Let’s Do It Better!” Program held its third workshop at the school on June 6-9, featuring a cross-section of print and broadcast stories honored as outstanding role models in coverage of race and ethnicity.

Forrest Carr attended as one of 22 “gatekeepers” — top editors and news directors selected from dozens of applicants who are seeking to improve their coverage on race and ethnicity.

The Ford Foundation program is directed by Arlene Morgan, who retired from The Philadelphia Inquirer last year to direct this program. For more information, consult Morgan at am494@columbia.edu or the “Let’s Do It Better” homepage on the jrn.columbia.edu/ workshops website.

Lisa Richardson has given me more to think about on the subject of race than anyone I’ve met in about 20 years.

Lisa came to the 2001 “Let’s Do It Better” workshop on race and ethnicity at Columbia University to share a story she’d shared previously with readers of the Los Angeles Times, where she works as a reporter. It’s a very personal story of her search for her family’s roots. Lisa’s great-great grandmother Ellen was the daughter of a slave named Lavinia, fathered by a white neighbor. Having a white ancestor had always been uncomfortable for Lisa and her family. That this white ancestor impregnated a her great-great-great grandmother while she was held in captivity was a source of anger.

The first thing Lisa gave me to think about was her concept of family. When she thinks of family, she explained to us, she has an extensive group of dozens of people in mind — aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, and cousins, some of them distant, who keep in touch and meet regularly in family reunions. When I think of family, I think of about half a dozen people. My family has not kept in touch. I’ve always been a little uncomfortable about that, and now I’m more so.

The second thing Lisa gave me to think about was her emotional struggle to deal with having a white ancestor. She set to work researching his family, tracking down and finally contacting some of his living relatives. By contrast, at least one of my relatively recent ancestors is not of my race, either. According to family legend, a great-great-great grandmother was a Cherokee Indian. It had never occurred to me what having a Cherokee ancestor implied: that I, too, have an entire branch of distant living relatives who are not of my race.

The final thing Lisa gave me to think about was the profound difference between the two of us in our ability to discover where we came from — and the difference in our attitudes about it. One of my aunts on my father’s side has given me documentation tracing certain branches of our family to the reign of Henry VII, and some of my ancestors were famous English naval captains whom you can still find listed in encyclopedias today. I’ve never traced the lineage on my mother’s side, but presumably could if I wanted do — I’ve just never cared. Lisa, by contrast, cares a great deal, but because of the forced African Diaspora, she’s stymied. For her, the records end a few years prior to the Civil War.

I don’t know how to feel about all this. I’m not sure I have to figure it out yet. But it led to my first breakthrough: You Don’t Know How Much You Don’t Know.

One of the things that made the conference so meaningful for me was that I, too, got to speak. This also was a surprise to me — who cares what a 43-year-old balding Southern white guy has to say about race? I belong to the first generation of white children for whom it was not acceptable to be racist. My parents taught me one thing — then society told me that these people, whom I loved, were wrong. No one has ever cared to listen to how I coped with that, until this workshop. I can’t claim anyone was enthralled with I had to say, but at least they listened — and to my shock, I found that it meant a great deal to me that they did. There are millions out there just like me. So my second breakthrough was: Don’t Silence Anyone. The lifelong struggle of people like me to come to grips with racism may pale in significance to the struggles of others, but to reject it is to reject any possibility of understanding the full truth about race in our country.

The workshop presenters, many of whom were minorities, came to celebrate successes, but also told of numerous failures along the way — stories that should have been published, but weren’t, because editors just weren’t interested. Managers aren’t listening enough, and the people they manage aren’t finding ways to challenge them. One presenter told us that the indifference of her managers “put hate in her heart” — but she also confessed she has never found the courage to say anything to them about it. This led to the third revelation: We Must Do More to Empower the Voices Within Our Newsrooms.

I’m not sure I know how to achieve an “empowered” newsroom, but I know one when I see it. I once sat in an editorial meeting where an Hispanic reporter angrily attacked our station’s coverage of an immigration issue. The outburst led to a special meeting which led to a 12-part series on immigration. We never did reach agreement on the reporter’s complaint, but the dispute made us better journalists. By contrast, I recently sat in an editorial meeting and watched no one say a word — not even the minorities at the table — when a producer announced he “just didn’t have time” for a story on statewide efforts to end racial profiling.

This much is clear: We will never empower our journalists if we don’t learn to listen to one another. We must talk about the challenge openly and set its solution as a societal goal.

I get asked from time to time what I am doing to build diversity in our newsroom. I have never, ever been asked what I’m doing to empower the diverse voices already at the table.

Until we add that question to the discussion about diversity, we’ll continue to get what we’ve got: a system where stories like Lisa’s are possible, but all too rare.

The final breakthrough: The Only Attitude You Can Directly Change Is Yours. As the meeting broke, I asked Lisa if she thought she had accomplished anything. “I don’t know,” she said. “These things tend to drive me inward — make me think, maybe it’s me that needs to change. The more I change, the more change there is in my world.”

ABC’s John Donovan told me much the same thing after his presentation. “There was a time when if someone made accusations about whites I thought were off base, my first reaction would be to click off. Now, I’m more likely to think maybe it’s not that they’re off base, but that I don’t get it, and I have to listen harder.”

Maybe we all do. As journalists, isn’t that our job? If we don’t do it, who will?

Carr is news director, WFLA-TV Tampa, Fla.