One very clear memory I have of my greener days as a hard news reporter is being made to accompany a senior reporter to cover a particular press conference. Before the start of this conference, my senior colleague introduced me to two veteran journalists from competing media houses. (Of course, I would later learn that the term veteran journalist can mean any number of things.)

We journalists, mostly them and not me, joshed with each other as we awaited the start of the conference.  Then, one of the veterans blurted out how much he hated covering these very meaningless stories.  He also had some unsavory things to say about the race and nationality of the woman on whose behalf the press conference had been called. When the conference finally began, he feigned interest, asked many curious questions and joked heavily with the interviewees.  And, when it ended, he took care, when we journalists were once again alone, to repeat his previous sentiments.

Later, on the way back to the office, my senior colleague admonished me to ignore the veteran’s words. She urged me to remember that these were the kinds of stories- small as they might appear- which built good journalists.  That day, I vowed that I would never spurn a story begging to be told- no matter how “small” it might appear. Not like I had a choice.  A juniour reporter covers mostly the small stories, especially when there are the much more aggressive, experienced and qualified senior journalists on the news desk. And, I was still too untrained and uncertain to look for real substance or even recognize it.

But three years later, after having put myself to rights, I was back at the newspaper as a features writer. The nagging voice in my head had nagged me to not only understand that I had to take myself seriously but that I had to do it right away.  So I began…almost right away by making promises I intended to keep.

The first covenant I made with myself was to try as much as possible to never cover a story I had no interest in or enthusiasm for. Sure, lesson number one in journalism is always that chapter on disinterestedness. But, objectivity doesn’t mean apathy, does it?  Even if it did, today’s readers, whatever they might say, surely aren't expecting just bare bones from a reporter- hard news or features. They are looking for heart as well.

Once, when, I was still a hard news reporter, a man who had lost a fortune in a fire at his business place rattled off what he knew before accusing me: “I understand if you don’t care”.  I accepted his accusation not as an indictment of the natural inclination of my species (hard news reporters) but as an indictment of myself. For, a quick self-interrogation of my gut and heart returned the diagnosis that beyond the cursory “I’m sorry for your loss”, I was indeed exceptionally numb to his pain.

On another occasion, this time while I was a features writer, I paired up with another colleague to do a two-part series on the homeless in the city and a soup kitcken programme which was catering to them.  As we moved from one homeless person to another, I grew more and more uncomfortable. The first article I’d written from the heart after I’d failed to locate a particular homeless person. This second exercise felt a bit too contrived.

It was then I realized the second promise I had to make to myself. I had to be more than interested in a topic. If I was at all serious about this business of taking myself seriously, I had to start taking others very seriously.

Coming Next Tuesday:  #9 A Working Girl Must Take Others Seriously.