Ombudsmen don't become ombudsmen through some sort of bizarre, archaic initiation ritual. It's not exactly a job that one just decides to do on a whim.\nI've been doing journalism for some time now, but until fall semester 2000 I didn't even know what an ombudsman is or does. The job, like any other, has its ups and downs. Getting paid to criticize others might seem attractive at first, but believe me, it's difficult work and not all that much fun, either. \nI miss the rush of reporting, editing and layout. I also miss writing columns on subjects other than the IDS, journalism in general and media ethics. Writing columns that cause a ruckus and get people talking is what really makes me wistful and nostalgic. Indeed, people familiar with my past days as a journalistic hell-raiser are usually surprised when I describe my job to them. I just tell them that solving problems is much more difficult than starting them; the former is often more rewarding, too.\nSpring break allowed me the opportunity to reflect further on from whence I'd come. Journalism can be a rocky road, fraught with the potential for spectacular failures that can match and even overshadow any number of sparkling successes. I've learned this lesson -- and others, for that matter -- well. Fortunately, I'm still relatively early along in my journalistic voyage.\nSojourning during my spring break in rural northern Indiana, I thought back to summers spent working at my hometown newspaper. One of the most important lessons I learned is this: Know Your Audience. It's an axiomatic concept that's often taken for granted by reporters and editors. The IDS has it pretty easy as far as knowing one's audience goes. Occasionally it drops the ball, but the IDS -- like all student newspapers -- has the advantage of publishing to a clearly delineated demographic. Still, knowing one's audience is important. \nMost of the time, news is news. The old school of thought says the newspaper will provide its readers with the news they "need" -- you know, politics, policy, government and all that other stuff that shows up on the front page. But recent trends in journalism have seen the rise of a new school of thought, one in which the readers' "wants" are given equal, if not greater, priority than their "needs." If you want proof, break out the microfilm and just try to find a "News You Can Use" column or section before 1970.\nToday's readers are more likely to desire practical, lifestyle-oriented news. This is just one subject of which journalists should be aware. Another one is the actual form that such content takes. This involves writing to one's audience, not for them. Journalism is first and foremost a form of communication, a medium for public discourse and information dissemination. \nI hate hearing reporters talk about how they're writing for this and that, for Truth and Justice and the People's Right to Know and other lofty, abstract concepts. I once talked that way myself, but I've learned that one should write to one's readers; doing so emulates the actual model of the communication process -- sender, receiver, channel, message and feedback. It is a two-way process, not information emissions from on-high.\nWriting for readers is somewhat paternalistic and can be, if left unchecked, insulting. I once wrote a weekly humor column for my local newspaper. One of my columns consisted of satirical observations about the 4-H Fair couched in the sociological premise of me, a 4-H "outsider" or "city boy" attending the fair and all its, ahem, splendor. Well, the 4-H Fair, where I come from, is a "sacred cow" in the most literal sense of the term (pun intended). My comments about it -- such as a facetious allegation regarding the inclusion of human flesh in lamb burgers -- amounted to heresy. Of course, my friends -- most of whom were, like me, in college at the time -- thought the column was hilarious. They still talk about it to this day -- more than two and a half years after its publication.\nUnfortunately, no one else appreciated my biting sarcasm. The community for which I was writing is traditional, rural, conservative and highly agricultural. The local economy depends upon farming. 4-H is a wildly popular program for local youth. Having lived there my entire life, I knew all of this, of course, but I was sure the community wouldn't mind me poking a little fun at its expense. \nI was wrong. They didn't get it -- the humor, that is. Angry letters to the editor came in flurries. I also wrote in the column that I didn't shower at all during 4-H Fair week because the whole fairgrounds and everyone in it smelled so bad that my odor would go unnoticed. I was obviously joking, but no one laughed. I either overestimated my ability to write convincing satire or my audience's ability to understand and appreciate it -- probably the former. I didn't know my audience. I was writing for the readers, imposing my sense of humor upon them.\nThis is just one of many small town newspaper lessons. Next week we'll get back to the IDS.
The good, the bad and the journalistic
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