New beginnings

June has arrived (already!) and with it the opportunity to start anew.

Tuesday was Simone's first day on the job at her summer internship with Allegheny County Economic Development in Pittsburgh. Likewise, I spotted a handful of new faces in The Oregonian newsroom as the first wave of college students, including some newly minted graduates, arrived to provide summer help.

Yesterday I completed work -- or, more accurately, enough work -- on a database of potential community blog partners to move ahead on a long-planned new initiative to bring more voices into the mix on OregonLive.com. Looking forward to ramping up, pending a green light from higher-ups.

The most uplifting development, however, came this weekend with the return of my colleague Elizabeth Hovde to her familiar spot on the Sunday Opinion op-ed page. Elizabeth's column had been missing from The Oregonian since she was seriously injured in a skiing accident on Jan. 11. She suffered a coma and a traumatic brain injury and was hospitalized 36 days.

"Being a brain trauma victim is a weird thing," she writes. "You go from being someone people can tell you about but whom you can't imagine being (and don't remember being), to learning almost everything over again -- walking, eating, handwriting. The death of your dad."

I knew Elizabeth's dad had passed away last year, so the thought of her having to re-learn that was not only chilling, it gave me a better understanding of what it means to suffer a traumatic brain injury.

Elizabeth writes movingly about the therapists, doctors and nurses who nursed her back to health. And I take to heart the inspiration she offers with the opportunity to reboot her life.

"I'm about four months out from my ski accident and coma now and have been home since mid-February. Every day there is a new discovery and a new challenge."

Image: vtusoul.wordpress.com/

Remembering Japan

It was just before midnight on March 11, ten weeks ago today, that a 9.0 earthquake grabbed hold of northeast Japan and shook it. The resulting tsunami and damage to a nuclear plant caused such devastation that even now it's still hard to wrap my mind around it.

Thanks to an in-house presentation this week by two of our stellar journalists at The Oregonian, I have a better understanding. Reporter Rich Read, who lived for six years in Tokyo as the newspaper's correspondent, and photographer Motoya Nakamura, who grew up in Japan, spent two weeks in the devastated region earlier this month and on Wednesday they reflected on their experiences in-country.

Their comments were captured in this hour-long video and address both the logistical challenges of traveling and reporting, as well as the powerful aftershocks that kept people on edge. The first few minutes of video and still photography are gut-wrenching in terms of conveying the scope of the triple disaster: Seeing mile after mile after mile after mile of devastation is numbing. Piles of lumber, metal and other materials were whipped into so many haystacks of destruction.

Then there were the psychological aspects of the loss.

For Motoya, it was emotionally difficult, returning to his homeland three weeks after the disaster. Pulling strangers' mud-caked photos from the debris, he said, made him think of his own heritage and experiences growing up in Japan, as well as his own two boys, ages 7 and 10, here in Portland.

For Rich, it was eerie flying into Tokyo, a bustling megalopolis of 28 million people far from the damaged region, and seeing the darkened, quiet streets. And it was sobering, he said, to realize it took an event like this to provide rarely seen glimpses of humanity among the Japanese.

He told the story of an woman in her 70s who was so overjoyed at finding her daughter alive in a shelter that they actually embraced.

"I will always remember that hug," she said.
"Why?" Rich asked her.
"Because," she said, "that only happens in movies."

If you can imagine such a reserved society where family members don't hug each other, then you can imagine the emotions unleashed by the tragedy. "It was like 9/11," Rich said, "with people feeling they were in it together."


It sounds trite, but I can't help but admire the resilience, the resourcefulness and the genuine selflessness we've seen as the Japanese struggle to recover. Thanks to Rich and Motoya and other journalists who've reported this ongoing story, my admiration just spiked.

Changing of the guard

Bobby Allyn

In the past month, we've seen three very talented colleagues leave The Oregonian:

Galen Barnett, my former colleague in Editorial, retired Friday after a long career at the newspaper, most of those spent as either the designer of the front page or a jack-of-all-trades in the editorial department, where he edited reader submissions, selected commentary from the wire services and designed handsome editorial and op-ed pages every day.

Brent Walth, a top-rank investigative reporter, author of an acclaimed biography of the late Gov. Tom McCall and part of a team that won the Pulitzer Prize for a series of stories about the INS, resigned to become managing news editor of Willamette Week, the alternative weekly where he began his career.

Greg Adams retired in April as quietly as he conducted himself in the newsroom. A consummate pro on the copy desk, he did the work that's invisible to readers, writing headlines, smoothing out rough language, bringing clarity to murky thinking, and catching potential errors before they found their way into print.

Together, these guys had spent about 75 years in our newsroom. You don't easily replace talent and experience like that. But you can take heart in seeing the passion and potential in the next generation of journalists.

That's why it was such a pleasure to have a goodbye-and-good luck breakfast yesterday with Bobby Allyn, a working-class kid from Wilkes-Barre, Pa., who's also moving on from The Oregonian.

Bobby joined us last year out of American University as a one-year reporting intern in one of our suburban bureaus. I've gotten to know him and his work over the past several months because the two of us have been part of the regular crew that works Saturdays. He's handled any number of general assignment news and feature stories and often shot photos to go with the stories. Like everyone else, he's adept at posting them on our blog -- and he's always brought a smile and a good attitude to the job.

Now he's moving on to his first full-time job as a real estate reporter at The Tennessean in Nashville. It's going to be a challenge, developing sources and building expertise in a new beat in an unfamiliar  part of the country. But that's what young journalists do -- they explore and adapt and they put those life lessons and work experience to use at the next rung of the ladder.

Bobby told me he has 36 hours of driving between Portland and Nashville, which he hopes to cover in six days. As I write this Tuesday morning, I imagine he's either enjoying San Francisco or reluctantly preparing to leave the city for his next stop in Los Angeles.

At 23, he's the same age as my youngest son, Jordan, and eager to embrace his new adventure. He's also acutely aware of these uncertain times in the news industry. At a time when veteran journalists (let alone parents) openly question a young person's decision to pursue journalism, it's refreshing to hear him talk with such zeal. If he can succeed in Nashville, a place that will present all kinds of challenges, that will be a significant accomplishment that points the way toward future success.

I remember the idealism I felt at that age. It's great to see it reflected in the face of such an earnest young man. I wish him -- and all his peers -- the very best, for they represent a changing of the guard.

A family of faith survives Alabama storms

Tornado damage near Huntsville

A week ago, I was nearing the end of my shift as the day assignment editor when a phone call came in out of the blue. A woman on the other end of the line said she was returning a reporter's call but didn't know the name. My three reporters were already busy or out of the office on assignments so I stuck with the call.

And so began a lengthy interview that led to a spot news story about a couple of Portland natives who'd moved to Alabama two years ago after the husband was laid off and how they and their six children had survived the killer tornadoes that had devastated so much of the Deep South.

When I left work that Saturday, the woman, Sharon Canaday, had promised to try to email a photo or two so a colleague, the night editor, could add one to the story I posted on OregonLive. She never did. And when I returned to work early Tuesday, I discovered the reason why: She'd broken her ankle Saturday night and had to go to the E.R.

The Canaday family

I did a followup story and this time there were plenty of photos. With the help of a photo editor, I uploaded them into a gallery of 11 photos -- a first for me -- and wrote a story that was more compelling than the first. I share it here because it's got a Mother's Day angle. Plus, today is the Sabbath for the Canaday family, which belongs to the Seventh-day Adventist Church.

It's a remarkable tale of resiliency, with strong elements of luck, faith and support from their fellow church members. Hope it makes you feel as good reading it as it did me reporting and writing it.

"Improbable story of survival in Alabama fuels faith of a former Portland family"

Photos: Courtesy of the Canaday family

Wisdom from a Portland poet: 'Be here now'

Poetry is a genre I've never quite felt with comfortable with. But that doesn't mean I can't appreciate a lovely piece of advice to high school honor students that comes from Portland poet David Biespiel.

In a recent talk at Cleveland High School, Biespiel urged students to balance their focus on the future -- with all the pressure it brings to get good grades and prepare for a career -- with a commitment to be, really be, in the present.

In high school, in college, in art, in life, there's always the pressure to be in motion. But sometimes the best course of action is be still, to be aware, to be here. Not to move, but to be. To be here now. "Don't just sit there, do something" may be a common American value, but I want to remind you that the imaginative level a poet seeks sometimes requires the contrary: "Don't just do something, sit here."

Biespiel is an award-winning poet who writes a monthly column on poetry for The Oregonian. Read his short piece: Advice for students and artists: 'Don't just do something, sit here'

And here's more, a Q&A interview with Biespiel, who earlier this month was honored at the Oregon Book Awards with the Stafford/Hall Award for Poetry for "The Book of Men and Women."

Talkin' about trolls

Skipped bowling last night to talk shop. Turned out to be a nice change from the routine (especially after hearing our team went down in flames -- again)

I was one of about 15 journalists who met at a Northwest Portland tavern for an informal discussion that centered around our interactions with online audiences. How and why do we do it, knowing how distasteful it can be, given the trolls who cause trouble for everyone?

Sponsored by a handful of journalists under the name Digital Journalism Portland, it was a good way to spend 90 minutes sharing information about our news organizations' practices and trading ideas about the overarching reasons for engaging with the largely anonymous readers who leave comments on news stories and opinion pieces.

I won't describe those differences in practices here, as it was an off-the-record conversation, but I can share a couple of thoughts concerning my own experiences at The Big O.

-- Anonymity on internet forums isn't going away. It's a different medium and it's part of the culture. While we can all wring our hands at how nasty some commenters can be, I understand the rationale for not requiring that people identify themselves. There are times when someone offers factual information in confidence because they fear repercussions in the workplace. That's legitimate.

-- Involving yourself in the discussion beats ignoring it. Asking for comments and then failing to participate in the conversation only reinforces the notion of an institution that doesn't care. The internet gives everyone a voice and I think a lot of commenters simply want to be heard. We can praise good comments, we can call out mean-spirited ones. But, mostly, we need to show that we are listening.

--Thoughtful, attentive moderating of the comments can yield some nice benefits. When someone's confidential information leads to a news story, that's a win-win. When you notice an interesting or different perspective -- say, from a minority group member -- it's worth reaching out to the commenter and asking if he/she would be interested in submitting an op-ed. (I've done that a few times and wound up with something we could publish.) When you add to the conversation, you help make the subtle point that journalists are people too. I think it's important that the public see that we in the media are not part of some monolithic institution and that there are huge differences among news organizations and the people who for work them. Same goes for independent bloggers, obviously. .

Already looking forward to next month's discussion, which will feature my newest Oregonian colleague,Cornelius Swart, on the topic of building a new model of cooperation between mainstream and independent news media.


Photograph: www.huntsmanlodge.com

Off and running with the new gig

Last month, I sat down to describe my transition at The Oregonian, from the editor of a pullout section of political and social commentary to a Web-first journalist focused on Portland community news: "1-11-11: Starting a new career chapter"

Well, here I am exactly 40 days later with a glance back at the past few weeks and, more importantly, a look to what lies ahead.

-- Today's Sunday Oregonian carried a Metro section cover story, "Oregon nonprofits raise a unified voice" written by yours truly. Next to it was a blurb alerting readers to a online-only package of additional stories, photos, videos, statistics and an interactive questionnaire designed for executive directors and board members of local nonprofits.

I can only hope that print readers made their way to the OregonLive web page to see the online-only components, which were gathered together under the headline "'New normal' for Oregon nonprofits brings new stresses and a determination to be heard"

That, after all, is one main thrust of my new duties -- to help generate news and feature stories, along with visual and audio elements -- that will entice readers to visit our Web site and keep coming back. The challenge of building online traffic has several aspects: Trying to create new habits in readers who prefer to get their news in print; competing for the time and attention of those who already spend significant time online; using new media to tell stories in different ways.

For me, the latter meant packing up my bag containing camcorder, wireless mic and tripod to four different interviews; inserting dozens of hyperlinks in four stories; building a resource base; drafting the questionnaire; and working with six different editors to pull together the videos, photos, graphics and online documents. Such is the Web-first mentality that the print story came at the tail end of the process.

-- The other big aspect of the new job is community engagement. That is, finding creative ways to get the word out about how ordinary citizens and community organizations can tap into OregonLive, whether by directly posting their own content or by discovering people whose stories might not get told otherwise. This means regularly getting out and about in the community, with little or no set agenda, and just depending on my journalistic instincts and serendipity to guide me from day to day.

-- This idea of being a mobile journalist (or MoJo) is many of us hope to master. Some of my colleagues are ahead of me in that regard while others lag behind. With a newsroom reorganization that two weeks ago included an overhaul of our so-called "Portland team," I'll be working with a whole new group of editors and reporters -- all of us focused on this Web-first mission.

With this initial project on nonprofits now safely behind me, I'm eager to get going with a new routine that promises to be rewarding in a whole new day.

'Community Writer' brings a global perspective

A little over three years ago, when I was just getting started as Sunday Opinion editor, I launched a Community Writers program that was designed to give voice to ordinary citizens and their concerns. I thought it would be a good complement to the professionally crafted editorials and columns cranked out members of The Oregonian's editorial board -- and I was right.

The program was well received by the public, and the writers -- 12 in the first group, 15 in the second -- took the opportunity and ran with it, weighing in each week for 12 weeks on a variety of issues that mattered to them as teachers, students, retirees, lawyers, ministers or whatever line of work they came from.

One of the unexpected benefits is that I formed solid friendships with a few of the writers, not the least of which was with a Beaverton woman named Lakshmi Jagannathan. Originally from India, she described herself to readers as a wearer of many hats -- "agricultural scientist, homemaker, school volunteer, PIFF (Portland International Film Festival) enthusiast, creative writer (and) Mom." She said she hoped that as "an immigrant and an avid traveler, I expect to bring a global perspective to my writing."

And true to her word, she provided exactly that in an op-ed essay that ran Tuesday on The Oregonian's Opinion blog: "Safety is in the eye of the beholder."

Pyramids of Giza

She and her family recently traveled to Egypt and were struck by the contrast in how safe they felt compared to the United States. While they were abroad, they learned of the shootings in Tucson.

"As I watched the news on TV sets at the airport, I wondered what the Egyptians must have thought," she writes. "'America is a dangerous place,'" some nervous mother might now say to her child. "'You could get killed in a grocery store.'"

My favorite conservative

For the past two years, I've enjoyed a great professional and personal relationship with Elizabeth Hovde, a self-styled "just right of center" opinion columnist for The Oregonian. She works from home, writing a column on politics and current events for the Sunday newspaper and also blogs during the week.

I've teased her about being a human Swiss army watch because she is so reliable in terms of filing on time and at the desired column length. We share an affinity for the Northwest. We swap stories about parenthood (she and her husband have two young boys, whereas Lori and I have three adult children). We chat about movies, music and books and, through editing her column, I find myself questioning my beliefs and assumptions about religion and moral issues. And on those occasions where we agree -- such as her support of the Dream Act -- well, let's just say it's been nice to wind up on the same side of an issue.

Just before the year came to an end, I joined Elizabeth and a fellow editor for a drink after work. It was nice to see her so relaxed, chatting happily with fellow journalists and poking fun at herself in a self-deprecating way.

With the newsroom changes that took effect this year, I'm focused on getting a handle on my new job and no longer am working with Elizabeth. So I was nearly speechless when I learned that she had been seriously injured in a skiing accident last week. We posted a short news item about her on The Oregonian's Opinion blog on Friday and, much to my pleasant surprise, commenters posted nothing but good wishes for her.

Out of respect for her privacy, I won't share any details of the accident other than to say it will likely take weeks and months to recover. I'm still trying to process the idea that vivacious Elizabeth -- who wrote movingly about her dying dad last Father's Day and then had to bear his loss a few months later -- is the one who is in a hospital bed. Life can be so unfair.

1-11-11: Starting a new career chapter

I love the symmetry in today's date. It strikes me as a good omen for the transition I'm making today -- from a print-oriented editor to a web-first journalist. I'm going from a job where each week I could choose freely among topics -- ranging from anything connected to Oregon to an international issue --  to a new Portland-centric mindset where the emphasis is on neighborhood and community news..

Why the transition? And why now?

Two days ago we announced to readers that The Oregonian's Sunday Opinion pages will no longer consist of a  separate, stand-alone section of six broadsheet pages, but instead will be contained on three pages within the Metro section. I knew this downsizing was coming, following discussions with some of the paper's top editors that began in early December. I've kept the news mostly to myself since then, preferring to focus on the last few Sunday sections while also laying the groundwork for the change.

I've loved the job I had for the past 3 1/2 years, as it kept me in the flow of what people were talking and thinking about and opened the door to countless personal friendships and professional relationships that together broadened my exposure to ideas and experiences different from my own.

But the time has come to do something else.

While the move away from a free-standing Opinion section is partly driven by a desire to cut newsprint costs, it's also part and parcel of The Oregonian's full-body embrace of journalism on the web. In order to keep pushing in the latter direction, you've got to make trade-offs in terms of where you direct your energies. I understand that and I'm fine with it.

For those who've long been accustomed to getting their news and opinions in print, it may be hard to grasp just exactly what my new job entails. For those who feel comfortable in the universe of online media, it's not much of a stretch. It's about building reader engagement, through personal contacts and more interactive features, on our Portland community news pages. It's about creating a greater sense of immediacy and increasing the pages’ visibility and impact, through social media, community outreach and other approaches.

Details of my job description and job title are still being worked out but this much is clear: I'm essentially closing the book on my career as a print journalist and launching fully into the online world. It's daunting, it's exciting, it's filled with possibility and risk -- all at the same timie -- and I suspect it will surprise and reward me in ways I've not envisioned. With a talented and supportive group of colleagues around me, it really is an amazing opportunity to reinforce and expand upon my new media skills.

I intend to keep up this blog but there may be an opportunity to launch a separate work-related blog in connection with my new duties. Stay tuned.

Not too late to help

Herka Serame, 6, was evacuated to the U.S. after the earthquake in Haiti. She and her family are among those being helped by the nonprofit organizations profiled in this year's Season of Sharing Wishbook.

Doctors Without Borders. Portland Sunshine Division. Union Gospel Mission. Mercy Corps.

Those are just some of nonprofits whose pleas for end-of-year donations have arrived in the mail in recent days. All worthy charities, for sure. All of which we've contributed to in the past. This week, though, The Oregonian's Season of Sharing Wishbook bobbed to the top of the list.

In early November, we published the annual Wishbook, profiling 20 agencies that help some of the most vulnerable people in the Portland area and other communities across Oregon -- seniors, refugees, foster children, homeless students, quadriplegics and other people with disabilities.

Among these 20 unsung nonprofits are:
-- Sisters of the Road, which has a 30-year record of serving meals to the homeless for $1.25 in cash or food stamps or for 15 minutes of work.
-- The Healing Center, which for 17 years has run a camp for sexually abused children on the north Oregon coast.
-- Snow Cap, which for 43 years has served seniors and low-income people in east Multnomah County with food box deliveries and a food pantry.
-- Clackamas Women's Services, which for 25 years has assisted women fleeing their abusers and, sadly, still turns away 150 calls for help each month because its two shelters are perpetually full.

As a former editor of the Wishbook, I know that these 20 agencies represent just a sliver of the needs that are being met. I also know that the editors, photographers, reporters and page designers who collaborate on each year's telling of the stories pour their heart into it. This year it was staff photographer Jamie Francis' turn. Click on the link to see his marvelous photo gallery.

I mailed our check this week. And yesterday I joined my peers in raising a few hundred more dollars through a silent auction held in the newsroom. I came home with a bottle of wine as a tangible reminder to urge anyone who reads this blog to consider his or her ability to give and help the charity of your choice. It's not to late to help.

Merry Christmas.

Photograph by Jamie Francis, The Oregonian.

Music Monday

Symphony cellist Marilyn de Oliveira quiets a Community Transitional School audience between songs.

Every now and then it's nice to take a break from the stream of news that flows out of Washington, D.C., Salem and Portland and focus on the softer side.

On the front page of The Oregonian today was a feature story by David Stabler -- "Oregon Symphony members carol for free at hospitals and shelters" -- that spoke to the soothing qualities of music. David, an accomplished pianist himself, wrote about a group of Symphony members who, for the second year in a row, have been playing free concerts to select audiences around Portland.

They've performed at shelters, hospitals, schools and hospices. And, as he writes, the music has a way of working some magic on listeners. Take five minutes out of your day or evening to read about 8-year-old Anna, a student at the Community Transitional School for homeless students, and Steven Toth, a former musician who's living at Our House, a nonprofit that provides housing and other services to people living with AIDS/HIV.

Photograph by Ross William Hamilton, The Oregonian

The most Portland place

OK, I should have posted this yesterday to coincide with the beginning of Hanukkah. But, still, this is a powerful and beautifully written piece by my colleague, David Sarasohn, that goes to the heart of why we Portlanders felt so unnerved by the thought that someone might want to place a bomb in our civic living room: "Pioneer Square not just a target, but a symbol"

Located in the heart of downtown, bordered north and south by light-rail tracks and sandwiched between Nordstorm's on the west and the old federal courthouse on the east, Pioneer Courthouse Square is an open-air gathering place whose descending brick steps that give you the feel of stepping into a living room or a den.

According to the affidavit charging would-be bomber Mohamed Osman Muhmada, a part of the reasoning that allegedly drove him to try to set off a bomb at Friday's tree-lighting ceremony was his fury at finding himself in "the lands of the polytheists," Sarasohn writes.

"That's actually not a bad description of Pioneer Courthouse Square, designed and functioning as a place open to everybody, where in warmer weather the skateboarders tool around the chess players, where the dress code runs from informal to Don't-they-know-this-is-in-public?, and Portlanders walk calmly by a street preacher warning of their eternal damnation. It's about the most open place in a proudly open city, and you could see how Muhamud might consider it a particular affront."

Many, if not most, of us who live here have attended the tree-lighting ceremony at one time or another. And even if we haven't, we've come to the square for music, food or films; to enjoy the fountain or a lunch-time concert; to grab a drink from Starbucks or drop off a mail-in ballot.

Consider me one of the polytheists.

Photo by Torsten Kjellstrand, The Oregonian

"Is Portland the new Neverland?"

Abraham Sutfin in his bike repair shop.

That was the provocative headline on a Sunday Opinion essay that sprang from a brainstorming session I had with a local journalist after we had both read a New York Times Sunday Magazine article that asked, "What Is It About 20-Somethings?"

That Aug. 18 piece, by Robin Marantz Henig, asked, "Why are so many people in their 20s taking so long to grow up?" and presented in great detail one sociologist's theory about "the changing timetables for adulthood." 

Shortly afterward, I met with Nancy Rommelmann, a terrific writer, and we kicked around possible approaches to a Portland-centric article that would get into the minds of local twentysomethings. The result? A very well-received article that ran in Sunday's newspaper, drew more than 600 "likes" and 52 online comments, and served as the focal point for a live chat that attracted 44 readers and nearly 80 comments during an hour-long session Monday.

It was, IMHO, the most successful live chat I've been part of in the past two years, with lots of thoughtful comments and not a single one that I, as moderator, had to hold out for reasons of profanity.

For the sake of brevity, I'll confine myself to three things:
-- A link to the article, "Is Portland the new Neverland?"
-- A link to the edited transcript of the"live chat."
-- One of my favorite quotes from the piece, spoken by Kate Williams, 23.

"I think Portland is in a way in danger of being a sort of incubator. People absorb its resources but don't recycle them. They're taking their careers elsewhere, and Portland earns a reputation of being a steppingstone rather than a destination."

Check it out.


Photograph by Torsten Kjellstand, The Oregonian

Short Stuff, Part 2

I began the month attempting to be succinct. I'll end it trying to be brief with a humorous edition of "Short Stuff."

 -- Santa pays an early visit. Our son Jordan and his wife Jamie stayed with us over the long holiday weekend. After we said our goodbyes Saturday, we went back inside to the garage and discovered Jordan had been a little too efficient in packing up for the drive back home to Olympia. He took the snowboard and a sackful of winter clothing that we'd been storing for him, but he also unwittingly took another bagful of Christmas presents that Lori had set aside. Who knew Santa lived in Olympia? :)

-- Fall leaves bring a fall. Over the years, I've had my share of mishaps when running on city streets and in nearby parks -- and it never fails to amuse my family. I'll trip over a curb, skin my knees and come home with blood running into my socks or slip on a muddy trail and come home looking like I wrestled Sasquatch. On Friday, I was four blocks from home and running in the street when I suddenly went sprawling headfirst, arms extended like a diver. A thick coat of leaves had totally covered up a speed bump. D'oh. I bounced up, like Ichiro Suzuki stealing second base, and didn't miss a beat.

-- For sale by owner. Complete set of Encyclopaedia Britannica, 45 volumes. Excellent condition. No longer needed, got married, wife knows everything. *

* Thanks to The Edge, The Oregonian's humor column.

The past, present and future of news

Sue Jepsen, Kevin Murphy and myself

No, this isn't a post about the history of journalism or a deep inside look at where we are going in the industry. Rather, it's a rather vanilla headline on a recent gathering of former and current employees of The Oregonian, prompted by a slick demonstration of a very cool idea designed to help readers and news organizations alike deal with the fire hose of information on the internet.

The past? By my rough estimate, the majority of some 50 or 60 people who gathered in Portland's Old Town last Sunday were people who recently have retired, taken buyouts or, in some cases, been laid off from the newspaper. It was a pleasure to see so many former colleagues, some of whom I see in my neighborhood or on the bus and others who I hadn't seen in months and even years. By and large, folks seem to be in a pretty good space -- and I was especially happy to learn that one of the very nicest, most talented people I'd worked with had gotten a new job utilizing her considerable design talents.

The present? Well, obviously, there were plenty of current staffers at the event, too, and it was nice to engage in non-work conversations away from the office. Not everything has to be journalism 24/7.

The future? The Oregonian Reunion Party was organized by three former staffers who are among the founders of a new-media venture called Nozzl Media. Their company builds custom, real-time, and local news streams that, they hope, will appeal to local and national media organizations that are seeking ways to organize, streamline and deliver a wide variety of content to their online audience.

As the Nozzl web site explains: "Our streams combine real-time news with public records data and social Web conversations to create a robust, easily filtered, and thoroughly mobile flow of information." Thus the fire hose reference above. It's about taking everything that's going in a different community and filtering it in such a way that it's like funneling it into a nozzle for easier consumption.

The Nozzl guys, Steve Woodward, John Hamlin and Brian Hendrickson, showed a few slides, provided light refreshments, and made a softsell about investing in their company. Knowing most journalists aren't loaded with money, they suggested that if we really liked their concept and wanted to support it, we could always put them in touch with a rich relative. All three of the guys are incredibly talented and dedicated to this venture. I truly wish them the best -- perhaps in collaboration with The Oregonian (?) but more likely with other companies -- and thank them for bringing us all together on a Sunday afternoon.

Photograph by Alan Borrud

Educating America's kids

Yesterday brought a triple blast of perspectives on one of the most important things in the world to me -- and, I wish could say, to our country. I'm talking about public education.

Why do tolerate such unevenly distributed resources, which lead to unequal opportunity? Why can't we apply what works to more cities and towns -- and speed up the pace of change? Most of all, why can't a solid majority of Americans even agree that these are worthwhile goals? When did we become so selfish and short-sighted in not doing more to help the less privileged among us succeed?

1. I started the morning looking at the Sunday Opinion section -- yes, my own editorial judgment and contacts staring back at me from the page. I selected a piece by Paul Kihn and Matt Miller, consultants for McKinsey & Company, "Let's choose teachers from the top of the class," in which they ask: "Why don't more of our smartest, most accomplished college graduates want to become teachers"

The authors point to Finland, Singapore and South Korea as three top-performing countries that recruit 100 percent of their teachers from the top one-third of their high school and college students -- in sharp contrast to the United States. It's a valid question and I asked six people around the state to read the piece and respond with a short comment. Among them: fellow blogger Aki Mori, a Beaverton school teacher who's often commented on these Rough and Rede posts.

2. We got some exciting news yesterday afternoon from our daughter, Simone, in Pittsburgh. She and three classmates at Carnegie Mellon placed second in a regional competition for graduate students sponsored by the state Department of Human Resources. Each interdisciplinary team is given a real-world problem related to delivery of human services and must analyze it and present it to judges within 48 hours. Aside from another award for their resumes, the four teammates shared a $1,500 cash prize.

Most important? Such recognition gives a boost to Simone's still-evolving desire to work in education policy, exerting an insider's influence in making the kinds of policy changes needed to improve public education in America. She's already had experience working with Latino teenagers in a leadership program and at-risk students in alternative high schools, helping them obtain a G.E.D. or diploma and steering them to community colleges and other options.

3. Simone's news was a perfect set-up for going to see the documentary "Waiting for 'Superman' " at a neighborhood theater. Directed by Davis Guggenheim, the same guy who directed Al Gore's "An Inconvenient Truth," it is a gripping narrative, following five children and their families as they seek to rise above the bureaucracy and low expectations that threaten to kill their dreams before they even hit middle school or high school.

They are five kids whose names and faces I won't soon forget: Anthony, a fifth-grader from Washington, D.C.; Francisco, a first-grader in the Bronx; Bianca, a kindergartner from Harlem,  Emily, an eighth-grader from Redwood City, Calif., (yes, mediocrity thrives even in affluent Silicon Valley schools) and, most of all, Daisy, a fifth-grader from Los Angeles.

In Daisy's brown eyes and brown face, I could see myself, diligently doing her homework at the kitchen table, dreaming of careers -- a physician or a veterinarian -- her parents could never imagine for themselves. I'm certain that my young peers and I in Union City, Calif., -- the sons and daughters of Mexican American blue-collar workers -- were dismissed as "not college material," But with the encouragement of parents who never attended high school, attentive teachers and my own initiative, I made it. And I want Daisy and Anthony and the millions of kids they represent to have the same chance to realize their potential.

It's heart-breaking to see these children and their parents -- often single parents advocating for their kids or trying to scrape together money for private school -- reduced to hoping their number is called during a lottery for a limited number of slots in public charter schools, where a combination of excellent teachers, longer school days and high expectations have translated to huge gains in classroom performance and success.

Some critics of public education have used this film as an opportunity to bash teacher unions. Granted, they're not portrayed particularly well in the documentary. But they are certainly not the one and only reason we have such disparities amongst our public schools. More important than pointing fingers is rallying around proven models that do work. With the inspiration from this film, I'm going to drop one of my nonprofit board commitments and sign up again as a reading tutor at a diverse, high-poverty school. I've done it before and I'd like to return to the S.M.A.R.T program with a renewed sense of urgency.

Learning from 'No'

Jennifer West

Reader alert: This is longer than my usual posts, but it carries a lot of meaning for me and a great life lesson about constructive criticism and perseverance. I hope you'll stick with it...

An e-mail arrived in my in box at work the other day, bearing a screen name I didn't immediately recognize. Curious, I opened it. A minute later, I was smiling at my computer screen, delighted at how things had turned out for a promising college student I'd met years ago at a National Association of Black Journalists convention. As The Oregonian's newsroom recruiter, I'd interviewed a number of students interested in landing a summer internship in Portland. Each year, hundreds would apply;  we could only choose about a dozen. With her permission, I'll let the writer of the recent e-mail take it from here...
 
*** 

Mr. Rede,
I met you back in 2003 at a NABJ Conference. For some reason a response that you sent to an e-mail from me [7] years ago, has been resending to my BlackBerry every day for the past two weeks. I get the same e-mail everyday as a new message. It's very strange but surprisingly refreshing considering that I had all but forgotten that poignant interaction.

Either way I felt inclined to respond. When I got a chance to re-read our e-mail thread, I was reminded of how much you helped me as a young college grad. Not by giving me an internship/job at The Oregonian but by being honest with me and offering thoughtful criticism and insight. I paid attention to the things you said and used that to move forward during a particularly bleak time. For that, I'm really appreciative!

Shortly after meeting you, I did land a job a daily in the burbs of Philadelphia as an education/general assignment reporter, opting to change tracks after two years.  I now find myself, settled in a communications career, writing and editing at Northwestern Law School. The help of people along the way, like you, who gave it to me straight and took time and effort in your recruiting really proved to be helpful.

I hope this e-mail finds you well. Thanks again!

Jennifer R. West

*** 
She attached my original e-mail here...

From: George Rede
To: [Jennifer West]
Subject: Re: Thank You Mr. Rede
Sent: Aug 11, 2003 7:35 PM

Dear Jennifer,

Most recruiters will tell you it's a great feeling to be able to offer an internship or a job to a deserving young person. I have to admit it's true.

But every once in a while there comes along a person with not much experience but a lot of heart and integrity. Someone who could be easily [falsely] encouraged but instead realizes what the challenge is and vows to work hard to get taken seriously.

So it's with all humility that I write to say thank you for your lovely words and to wish you the best in refocusing your energies and short-term goals. Your e-mail made my day, Jennifer. I, too, hope you'll be able to demonstrate some real growth next summer at the Unity convention.

Sincerely,

George Rede

*** 
Likewise, she provided her initial post-interview note...

<<< Jennifer West  08/11/03 11:50AM >>>
Mr. Rede,
My name is Jennifer West and I met you at the NABJ convention at The Oregonian's recruiting booth. I originally went to your booth with high, somewhat unrealistic, hopes. After meeting with you I was a bit discouraged, but looking back in retrospect I'm grateful for your help.

You told me everything that I did not want to hear but needed to know in order to be successful in this competitive business. Your insight has given me incentive and drive to correct the things you mentioned about my clips and internship experience. Although at first I was upset, I came to understand that unlike the other recruiters who most likely just smiled and tossed my work aside, you gave me the necessary feedback that will help me in years to come.

So although I may not be quite ready for The Oregonian or other large papers, you helped me to see what it is I need to work on and where I need to start. I really appreciate your help. Maybe I'll be fortunate enough to see you next year at the convention under better circumstances. Thanks again!

Jennifer R. West

*** 
Seeing what I wrote then prompted this response from me...

Dear Jennifer,

I have no idea why you're getting my old response, but -- wow -- your e-mail made my day, just as it did seven years ago.

I remember meeting you and being so impressed by the quality of your character. This follow-up only reinforces that impression. In these turbulent times for journalists, I'm not surprised to learn you changed tracks from reporting to communications. But neither am I surprised. I am delighted to learn you're at such a prestigious school and, evidently, quite happy with your situation. And being in the Chicago area has got to be a plus...

I've gone through a bit of a change myself. In 2007, when things got pretty rough throughout the industry and it became apparent we wouldn't be doing much hiring in the coming years, I chose to look within The Oregonian for another opportunity. The Sunday Opinion editor job came open, I applied and got it. Next to recruiting, it's been the most fun and most fulfilling job I've had in my 25 years here at the newspaper. Planning and editing a weekly section that revolves around public policy issues, and which allows me to publish different viewpoints and perspectives, is both stimulating and challenging.

I will always look upon the 10 years I spent as a newsroom recruiter with great fondness, and I will always treasure the connections I made with people like you, Jennifer. Thank you so much for writing...

 

Very best wishes,

George

*** 
And the last word goes to Jennifer...

Mr. Rede,

Yes, it's really odd! But I must say that this has been really refreshing! I'm of the thought that nothing happens by accident. If nothing else it reminded of the important conversation that I'd all but forgotten about.

I'm so glad that you've found your place in The Oregonian newsroom. It's been such a strange time where many have been displaced or let go. So the chance to continue in newspapers doing something you enjoy, is great! I look at it as seasons. Your season as a recruiter was beneficial personally and for so many young grads. Not everyone has been so fortunate across the professional board, myself included!

The road to Northwestern Law has been a long, strange one but I'm pleased with where I am now. I moved to Chicago after leaving the Bucks County Courier Times in 2006. My decision to leave was based more on the fact that while newspapers weren't in total turmoil yet, I could see the writing on the wall: shorter copy to make space for ads, reduced creative reign in writing etc., extended hours and cutbacks. I moved to Chicago to take a job a boutique public relations firm as a writer. It was short-lived, very short-lived, and an interesting experience to say the least. After working in communications for the Chicago School of Professional Psychology, The American Medical Association and many odd jobs in between (dog walker, receptionist for an apt finding company etc.), I'm content with where I am now!

At Northwestern, I'm writing and editing copy for the Law School website, writing for the alumni magazine and newsletters and writing speeches and remarks for the Dean of the Law School. It's certainly not what I painted for myself when I decided to leave newspapers. Although I can't say what exactly I foresaw for myself.

Either way every disappointment I've had and job I've lost or gained over these 7 years has brought me to this point. Which is why our interaction resonated with me so much. I think my meeting with you was my first of someone telling me "no" albeit in a constructive way. I think my generation of kids possesses a sense of entitlement. We want what we want and we want it now, just because that's what we believe to be owed. We're told you can have or do whatever we want but no one tells us that it's a process of setbacks and disappointments that can ultimately serve you better in the long run and builds character.  Life has shown me that things aren't always an instant yes. But what's more important is I've learned that that's ok, if not for the better!

Jennifer

All about marriage

How can a stranger tell if two people are married?
"You might have to guess, based on whether they seem to be yelling at the same kids." -- Derrick, 8 


About 15 years ago, The Oregonian debuted a humor column called "The Edge." A daily compendium of wacky, irreverent and often juvenile (i.e., bathroom) humor, it was created and written for the first several years by Tim Harrower -- and quickly became a reader favorite with recurring features like Useless Fact o' the Day and Lame Joke du Jour.

Authorship of the column has changed hands a few times since, and its visibility in the newspaper has been taken down a notch, from the cover of the features section to an inside or back page. To tell the truth, I miss it most days. Today I'm glad I ran across it. After sharing my thoughts recently on the keys to a long marriage, The Edge offers a column's worth of wisdom, courtesy of kids 7 to 10 years old.

Along with the above, check out these nuggets:

How do you decide who to marry?
"You got to find somebody who likes the same stuff. Like, if you like sports, she should like it that you like sports, and she should keep the chips and dip coming." -- Alan, 10

"No person really decides before they grow up who they're going to marry. God decides it all way before, and you get to find out later who you're stuck with." -- Kristen, 10

What is the right age to get married?
"Twenty-three is the best age because you know the person FOREVER by then." -- Camille, 10

What do you think your mom and dad have in common?
"Both don't want any more kids." -- Lori, 8

What do most people do on a date?
"Dates are for having fun, and people should use them to get to know each other. Even boys have something to say if you listen long enough." -- Lynnette, 8

"On the first date, they just tell each other lies and that usually gets them interested enough to go for a second date." -- Martin, 10

When is it OK to kiss someone?
"When they're rich." -- Pam, 7

"The law says you have to be 18, so I wouldn't want to mess with that." -- Curt, 7

"The rule goes like this: If you kiss someone, then you should marry them and have kids with them. It's the right thing to do." -- Howard, 8

Is it better to be single or married?
"It's better for girls to be single but not for boys. Boys need someone to clean up after them." -- Anita, 9

How would the world be different if people didn't get married?
"There sure would be a lot of kids to explain, wouldn't there?" -- Kelvin, 8

How would you make a marriage work?
"Tell your wife that she looks pretty, even if she looks like a dump truck." -- Ricky, 10


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Photograph: 123rf.com

A Swedish cowboy...in Oregon?

Why not?

If you can spare five minutes, take time out to view this delightful video made by my colleague, Torsten Kjellstrand. He's not just a superb photographer but also a kind and gentle soul with a sense of understated Scandinavian humor (is there any other kind?).

Thanks to a mid-summer wedding Lori and I attended in Pendleton, this video has more meaning for me than it would have otherwise.

If you can't view the video on a full screen, try this link instead: http://www.oregonlive.com/pacific-northwest-news/index.ssf/2010/09/round-up_video_how_to_buy_a_cowboy_hat.html