Jailed journalists shine light on profession
August 11, 2009
In the past week, the public has had a fairly substantial exposure to a story involving journalists in peril.
Journalists Euna Lee, 36, and Laura Ling, 32, who were working for a San Francisco-based media outlet, were near North Korea’s border with China when they were seized March 17 by North Korean authorities, according to a Washington Post story.
They later were subjected to a five-day closed trial where they were convicted of “grave crimes” against that country and sentenced to 12 years hard labor. There was no appeal process available.
The journalists were on a mission to explore Korea’s human rights record and specifically to research a story about the trafficking of North Korean women to China, according to the story.
But anyone who hasn’t had their head in the sand is probably well-aware of that story. Other stories, too, have drawn substantial attention. Like the serious injury of ABC newsman Bob Woodruff in 2006.
What you might not be aware of is that at least 29 journalists around the world have died – this year, trying to do their jobs. Not one was in the United States, which is probably a good excuse for our ignorance, though it’s not a very good reason.
Around the world, in Africa, the Middle East, South America and other places, journalists face danger every day trying to make people aware of what is going on in those countries.
An organization called the Newseum – a newspaper museum in Washington, D.C., lists those lost to the efforts. The Web site’s complete list actually contains almost 2,000 names of journalist who were killed trying to do their jobs.
So what on earth does that have to do with The Beaumont Enterprise? Not much. Though we occasionally have a reporter or photographer who gets a scratch or scrape on the job, we’re not exactly doing our jobs in a war zone.
But what our reporters do, can be mentally, if not physically, stressful.
A Los Angeles Times article by James Rainey puts it this way: “Sure, journalists can be pushy louts, too hurried or self-important to worry who gets in their way . . . movies and pop culture tend to fixate on the reporter as loud, conniving or politically sold-out . . . Reporters understand that they live in a rough and tumble business and that they can’t always make friends. Still, it can be dispiriting to watch the relentless caricature of media running amok.”
As we cautiously move into what seasoned Southeast Texans recognize as the most threatening portion of the hurricane season without even one named storm yet, images and experiences of Hurricanes Rita and Ike (and Humberto and Gustav) replay in our minds.
People who experienced the loss of loved ones, flooded homes, lifetimes of possessions simply . . . gone, struggled greatly. So did those who, day after day, family after family, wrote the stories and took the photographs while those victims cleaned up and cried. Some of those journalists experienced personal losses as well, but they did their jobs.
There are few long-time journalists who haven’t seen at least one dead body – not dressed nicely for funeral visitation, but pulled from a river, or a car, or a burning home. Virtually every reporter has had to interview a family who has lost a loved one.
During those times we try to maintain a professional distance, but when we close our eyes at night, we’re still human and we still see those images and feel the pain of those experiences.
We aren’t heroes like those in the military, like police officers or firefighters, and we certainly don’t expect their level of respect and admiration. But we do what we do every day for the same reason – because we think it is important.
We aren’t out to change the world. We just want to do our job, which includes trying to tell the stories of the people and events in our tiny part of that world.
In the past week, the public has had a fairly substantial exposure to a story involving journalists in peril.
Journalists Euna Lee, 36, and Laura Ling, 32, who were working for a San Francisco-based media outlet, were near North Korea’s border with China when they were seized March 17 by North Korean authorities, according to a Washington Post story.
They later were subjected to a five-day closed trial where they were convicted of “grave crimes” against that country and sentenced to 12 years hard labor. There was no appeal process available.
The journalists were on a mission to explore Korea’s human rights record and specifically to research a story about the trafficking of North Korean women to China, according to the story.
But anyone who hasn’t had their head in the sand is probably well-aware of that story. Other stories, too, have drawn substantial attention. Like the serious injury of ABC newsman Bob Woodruff in 2006.
What you might not be aware of is that at least 29 journalists around the world have died – this year, trying to do their jobs. Not one was in the United States, which is probably a good excuse for our ignorance, though it’s not a very good reason.
Around the world, in Africa, the Middle East, South America and other places, journalists face danger every day trying to make people aware of what is going on in those countries.
An organization called the Newseum – a newspaper museum in Washington, D.C., lists those lost to the efforts. The Web site’s complete list actually contains almost 2,000 names of journalist who were killed trying to do their jobs.
So what on earth does that have to do with The Beaumont Enterprise? Not much. Though we occasionally have a reporter or photographer who gets a scratch or scrape on the job, we’re not exactly doing our jobs in a war zone.
But what our reporters do, can be mentally, if not physically, stressful.
A Los Angeles Times article by James Rainey puts it this way: “Sure, journalists can be pushy louts, too hurried or self-important to worry who gets in their way . . . movies and pop culture tend to fixate on the reporter as loud, conniving or politically sold-out . . . Reporters understand that they live in a rough and tumble business and that they can’t always make friends. Still, it can be dispiriting to watch the relentless caricature of media running amok.”
As we cautiously move into what seasoned Southeast Texans recognize as the most threatening portion of the hurricane season without even one named storm yet, images and experiences of Hurricanes Rita and Ike (and Humberto and Gustav) replay in our minds.
People who experienced the loss of loved ones, flooded homes, lifetimes of possessions simply . . . gone, struggled greatly. So did those who, day after day, family after family, wrote the stories and took the photographs while those victims cleaned up and cried. Some of those journalists experienced personal losses as well, but they did their jobs.
There are few long-time journalists who haven’t seen at least one dead body – not dressed nicely for funeral visitation, but pulled from a river, or a car, or a burning home. Virtually every reporter has had to interview a family who has lost a loved one.
During those times we try to maintain a professional distance, but when we close our eyes at night, we’re still human and we still see those images and feel the pain of those experiences.
We aren’t heroes like those in the military, like police officers or firefighters, and we certainly don’t expect their level of respect and admiration. But we do what we do every day for the same reason – because we think it is important.
We aren’t out to change the world. We just want to do our job, which includes trying to tell the stories of the people and events in our tiny part of that world.
posted by Sheila Friedeck at 3:00 PM
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