Here’s what 20 college journalists learned over Labor Day weekend while reporting from inside a homeless shelter…
1. Shelter food can taste better than school cafeteria food.
2. Some homeless people know more about computers than you do.
3. If your interview subject starts masturbating, maintain eye contact.
These rugged students survived the third annual Will Write for Food program. They took over the monthly newspaper at a South Florida homeless shelter and reported, photographed, and designed the next issue in a mere 36 hours.
They didn’t get paid, and they didn’t receive any college credit. In fact, the long weekend cost them money, because I couldn’t cobble together enough grants to pay for all their travel costs.
Yet they drove in from all over Florida and flew in from Texas, South Carolina, Oklahoma, Minnesota, Illinois, Georgia, Connecticut, and Alaska.
Fairbanks, Alaska, to be specific.
Andrew Sheeler departed Friday night from his central Alaskan home, and I picked him up at the Fort Lauderdale airport Saturday afternoon. That’s three flights, two layovers, and 15 hours.
Then he went to the shelter for dinner, then to our tiny makeshift newsroom (which was being used for storage before we got there), and finally to the “room at the end of the hall” – where residents with the most severe mental-health problems sleep.
Sheeler spent much of Sunday morning in that room, and most of Sunday afternoon writing about it. Monday morning, we took him back to the airport for his 15-hour flight home.
Sheeler never complained. What do you expect from a guy who has “Seek truth and report it” tattooed to his chest?
Maybe I’m biased, but I believe the toughest college journalists in the nation assemble every Labor Day weekend at the COSAC shelter in Hollywood, Fla.
When those students dine with the homeless, they learn that looks can be deceiving – which is a lesson I relearn every year just by watching them. Example…
Adrienne Cutway is a soft-spoken, skinny woman who was terrified the first time she stood in the shelter food line. “I started shaking,” she said. “I was so nervous.”
The next afternoon, she and a photographer were interviewing a group of residents when one of the men decided to pleasure himself.
I wasn’t there – I always miss the most interesting developments – but the photog ran back to our newsroom to tell me all about it. Our conversation went something like this…
“Jesus, when did this happen?”
“Just now.”
“So where’s Adrienne?”
“Uh, I guess she’s still there.”
“You left her ALONE with the masturbator?!”
I imagined the scant few grant dollars I scrap for every year evaporating on this disgusting news. But I had nothing to fear. Adrienne casually strode back into the newsroom a few minutes later. When I asked her how she handled this indelicate situation, she replied matter-of-factly, “I just maintained eye contact.”
That’s one tough chick.
The entire WWFF11 crew was like that. While we had a half-dozen advisers watching over them, plus shelter security personnel, none of the students were scared after their initial shock at dinner the first night. As one student told me during the inaugural WWFF in 2009, “I feel safer here at night than I do on my own campus.”
The big breakthrough starts with the food. That’s because interviewing the homeless is easy. Eating with them is hard.
Journalism is just a job, and while reporters try to elicit intimate details from their interview subjects, they seldom reveal much about themselves in the process.
But waiting in the food line, sitting down with a laden tray, and engaging in some dinnertime conversation is personal – and, at first, uncomfortable. So begins the shattering of stereotypes.
“I expected every stereotype and rumor I had ever heard to be true,” said Emily Summars, a senior at the University of Oklahoma. One of those stereotypes was about the meals…
I was thinking we would be eating cafeteria food and mentally prepared myself for the nasty instant mashed potatoes, frozen chicken nuggets and canned cream of corn. Not an Oklahoman’s favorite meal, let me just say. What I actually ate was grilled chicken breast, green beans, seasoned wedge fries, and a giant piece of moist chocolate cake.
Another stereotype was the panhandling…
Not one homeless resident at the shelter asked me for money. In fact, they didn’t even want to speak to me. I tried to speak with four residents before my eagerness for conversation paid off with a lovely woman from Haiti and an ex-stockbroker from New York.
One of Summars’ peers chatted up a former IT director who knew more about computers than she did. And several students were surprised that while all the residents lack a home, some don’t lack a Facebook page.
That dinner seemed to change Summars.
“Going to the shelter last night made me realize the stories we write on campus are petty,” she said the next day. “I want to cover homelessness in Oklahoma.”
Over the past couple days, I’ve received emails from several WWFF11 alumni that echo Summars’ experience – and one that contradicts it…
1. “This program was what we all needed: a reminder that we’re in this industry for good and are willing to do anything to kick ass at journalism.”
2. “The whole ordeal, no matter how chaotic and stressful, was amazing. I had a blast, and I definitely feel like a stronger reporter and better person because of it.”
3. “Thanks for keeping it real. It’s hard to find people willing to be straightforward with us because they don’t think we can handle the truth.”
That last email concluded…
After 36 hours at the homeless shelter being surrounded by extremely talented journalists, I’ve come to the conclusion that what I did this weekend isn’t what I want to do for the rest of my life. But I mean that in the best way possible. Because now I know myself 10 times better than I did before the program – I really wanted you to know that WWFF did make a difference to me in a way I didn’t expect.
That’s fine with me, because Will Write for Food isn’t just about journalism. We accepted applicants we know won’t seek mainstream media jobs after they graduate.
One of the WWFF11 graphic designers wants to be an animator. One of the reporters wants to be a stay-at-home mom. And none of the photographers seem really sure what they want do with their lives – as long as it involves looking through a viewfinder.
But what they’ll take from WWFF11 is an opinion on homelessness based on personal experience, not something romanticized or demonized by those with agendas.
They’ve also discovered how much they can achieve in a little sliver of time. Previous WWFF alum have told me that when they returned home, no deadline problem at their campus newspaper – or anywhere – ever again overwhelmed them. I expect to hear the same from this year’s staff.
I believe the best students want to be challenged, not coddled. They want more adventure and less lecture. They want to test their endurance, not endure tests. Alas, not many adults agree.
Every year, I struggle to scrape together the money for another brutal Labor Day weekend. (It’s not just the students who suffer. The last four WWFFers stumbled out of the newsroom at 5:35 Monday morning, and I stayed to shut off the lights – and prove I’m not old. I still haven’t recuperated.)
The Florida College Press Association, the Society of Professional Journalists South Florida chapter, and a couple regional SPJ directors have always donated the maximum they could afford. But other grant agencies look at WWFF in horror.
They believe college journalists are too fragile for this. And most probably are. But what about the exceptional ones? What about students with the minds of muckrakers and spines of steel?
I don’t think they should be held back by their fellow j-schoolers whose most incisive interview question is, “Will this be on the test?”
But what do I know.
Anyway, click on the cover below to see PDFs of the 20-page issue 20 students produced in 36 hours…
…and check out the students’ website, as well as SPJ’s live coverage of their efforts. Finally, here’s a videographer’s take…
Why all of this attention for stories that are not particularly well written? I blanched when I read some of these maladroit efforts. In addition, the video shows some ungainly interviewing techniques. Are you there to teach journalism foundations or to simply allow students to gawk at the pathetic homeless? This appears to be more exploitative than educational.
Last things first…
I take any charge of exploitation seriously. Thankfully, in three years, we’ve never had a complaint from a shelter resident, the staff, or the director.
Some residents don’t want to talk, and the WWFF staff respectfully steers clear of them. But most residents and nearly all the staff (who were formerly homeless themselves) really want to tell their stories. And they’ve praised each issue the students have published.
Of course, those issues are chock full of clunky writing. After all, they’re students. They’re still learning. I told this year’s crew, “In six months, you’ll pick up this issue again and be disappointed in your work — because you’ll be so much better by then.”
Several years ago, I returned to the University of Florida for a journalism conference with a fellow college newspaper editor, and we flipped through the bound volumes containing our mid-’80s articles. Most sucked. But the lessons we learned and the memories we made stand up quite well.
The WWFF11 staff had 36 hours to produce what you disparage. I wonder how clean your copy would’ve been under the same circumstances and at the same age. Perhaps immaculate, but I know this…
I would never call the homeless “pathetic.”
Neither would you after a weekend in a shelter. If you’d like that opportunity, email me at journoterrorist@gmail.com, and I’ll make it happen.
The attention on this subject isn’t neccessarily for the caliber of the stories, but for the conditions they were written under. It can be assumed that many of the students held more passion for journalism than actual experience, and had never been under such tight deadlines or worked so closely with strangers. As stated in the article, “Will Write for Food isn’t just about journalism”. And it’s not. I’m very skeptical that students decided to travel from other states over Labor Day weekend simply to “gawk at the pathetic homeless”. And I don’t believe the homeless themselves would appreciate the term ‘pathetic’ either, as they are not without their pride. I don’t see how students could walk away from an experience like this without growth- journalistically or otherwise.
Anonymous,
This exercise is obviously not about fundamentals. That is what classes are for, and that’s all they can offer. The point here was to step out of a sterile classroom setting and see the real-life application and value of journalism — even if that journalism isn’t up to your personal educational standards. (Are you a j-prof?)
Your claim that this is exploitative is laughable. If Will Write For Food was about getting an amazing clip — which seems to be what would justify this for you, well-written stories about “the pathetic homeless” — then I would agree. But this was about the experience, not about taking advantage. You seem oblivious to the fact that these kids paid to travel cross-country to spend a holiday weekend with homeless people. How could they possibly profit?
Anybody can learn to use words like “blanched” and “maladroit.” But too few journalists are willing to step out of their comfort zones and purposely broaden their perspective. Fearless journalism is more important than flawless writing. Hence the attention you inveigh.
In a year these students will look back and probably agree with you that these weren’t the best pieces they’ve done. So? They will, hopefully, have been inspired to do much better things. It’s sad that you can’t learn anything from them.
While I too wonder about the exploitative nature of this project, I’m more concerned about the safety of the students. Simply because they don’t FEEL threatened doesn’t meanthey aren’t; students are notorious for their sense of invincibility. It is the responsibility of the adults to ENSURE their safety. A student confronting a homeless man who is “pleasuring” himself is a gross (quite literally) violation of adult responsibility. The authorof this post needs to behave more like an adult and less like a student. Otherwise, he will eventually find himself in serious trouble. Of this I have no doubt.
Your questions about safety are reasonable, and I addressed some them in an earlier post. But to repeat and elaborate…
1. The WWFF11 staff had access to a half-dozen advisers who, at least in the beginning, escorted them to interviews. For instance, when Andrew Sheeler visited the “room at the end of the hall,” Flagler College adviser Brian Thompson went with him.
2. After a time, the students felt comfortable enough to move about without advisers. But they were never alone. Even the student who confronted the masturbator was in a group. Shelter security was far enough away not to be intrusive but close enough to handle any situation.
3. The tiny makeshift newsroom was in an adjoining building to the shelter, with its own entrance and bathroom. No residents were allowed inside, and there was always at least one adviser present.
If you’re concerned about our safety, I’m concerned about your use of “adult” and “student.”
One WWFFer has two children, and another is a grad student getting married in three weeks. Then again, the youngest is 19 years old and attends a small Jesuit school in Connecticut.
In 13 years of advising college media, I’ve learned to be careful when stereotyping “students” and defining “adults.” I’ve met plenty of mature freshman who easily roll with the punches and plenty of immature 45-year-old professors who crumple under the first whiff of stress.
Beautifully written story, despite the prior criticisms it’s very well done. As someone who was previously homeless I know how hard it can be to get information out of people. I lived in a shelter for 6 months when I was a senior in high school and it was absolutely one of the toughest things I’ve ever had to do. 50% of the people were terrible and cruel while the other 50% were normal people who were just down on their luck. You never know what you’ll encounter – it’s always a mixed bag of people. Homelessness can happen to almost anyone and it’s certainly enlightening.
To the author/organizer,
You have broken numerous bylaws and may be subject to sanctions from your two grant organizations.
I believe you should be impeached as president of both South Florida Pro and the Florida College Press Association.
I’ve looked up the South Florida Pro bylaws. Your chapter’s mission is relegated to “Monroe, Miami-Dade, Broward and Palm Beach counties and throughout Florida.”
SPJ Region 3 comprises Florida, Georgia, Alabama and South Carolina.
The Florida College Press Association’s mission is “the betterment of Florida collegiate journalism.”
Therefore, by spending those organization’s funds to pay students from states outside the borders of Florida and Region 3, you have committed embezzlement.
I look forward to your response to these extremely serious charges.
I’m guilty as charged.
And so are the boards of FCPA and SPJ South Florida — because they unanimously voted to support Will Write for Food.
Yup, we’re all complicit in educating college journalists. Damn, you caught us.
But let’s break this shit down…
SPJ Region 3 chipped in one-third of the money. Half of the WWFF11 class came from Region 3 — four from UF, three from UCF, two from Flagler, and one from Georgia Perimeter.
So Region 3 violated nothing.
FCPA chipped in one-third and had four member schools represented (UF, UCF, Flagler, and FAU). No other FCPA schools applied.
So FCPA got its money’s worth.
That leaves SPJ South Florida. We knowingly spent our one-third on the out-of-staters.
Why? The program happens in our area, we aren’t taking any money away from our other programs, we didn’t deny any South Florida applicants, and the national scope reflects nicely on us. In fact, we won SPJ’s 2010 Chapter of the Year award, so we can’t be too felonious.
But if this really long and boring explanation doesn’t satisfy your bureaucratic bloodlust, feel free to file a complaint with whoever the hell it is that accepts them. I’ve done worse things in my life than Will Write for Food, so I look forward to my day in the Court of SPJ Old-Timers.
Proud old-timer,
I find it sad that anyone in SPJ — especially someone making serious accusations — would hide behind a cloak of anonymity. That doesn’t seem very proud, to me.
I just hope you’re not in a leadership role of any sort, because I’d hate to think that anyone on an SPJ board would push to limit journalism education based on arbitrary lines in the sand. Or make accusations without knowing the facts.
SPJ needs more efforts like this, and less cloak-and-dagger nonsense.
[...] This was the third year for the Will Write for Food event … and, unlike a couple of the commenters, I think I want to go next year. Or at least get my students involved. [...]
My Name is Sean Cononie, the Director of the place that gives a home to those who do not. Why would anyone worry about the safety of the students. The same things happen anywhere in the world. We have been in business for 15 years. We have never had a rape, a murder and we only had one incident of someone getting hurt. The person who did the hurting was a person who had a home and a job. In fact the homeless are the most picked on bunch of people in the world by those of us who are housed.
These kids and I say ” Kids ” based on my older age, not only learned about us , but they showed us homeless residents a lot of tricks of the trade. I allow them to take over our paper each year to get a fair and balanced inside look at what we really do, What good is it if we the owners of the shelter and the paper promote ourselves each issue. It is far better to let them come in and ask why we do this and that . This projects makes us more accountable for our own actions. I did not agree with all their stories on every aspect but it made me open my eyes to one room that we need to make better.
I love this project , in fact I love it so much I have personally smiled and got the chills when I see them thrive in the real world. I watch some of their careers and I get the goose bumps saying to myself I knew them when they were just a college student. It is such a great experience to be part of this project. For anyone to give their views in some of the negative comments I would only tend to think and say to myself you may just be a little jealous that you did not come up with this great project.
I must go for now to empty my folders coffee can.
Keep up the good work and it has been a real honor to meet each student. It has been great and we hope to have you do this project for ever.
Love Sean,
As a Will Write For Food participant since its inception, as well as an adviser and the chick who documented the students on this blog: http://spjwrite4food.tumblr.com/, I also serve as the Vice President of Programs for SPJ South Florida Pro. To grab the attention of the SPJ old-timer, let me repeat…
VICE PRESIDENT OF PROGRAMS.
Yell at me for grabbing the attention of my fellow board members to support this project. Yell at me for helping organize and make this project better year after year. Yell at me for aiding to molding the minds of our youth by taking them out of their comfort zone and encouraging them to make themselves better. Do you still do that… in your old-timer position? Do you even challenge the ones that will come after you? Do you leave a legacy?
I will be at the Excellence In Journalism 2011 conference later this month, as will Michael Koretzky and Brandon Ballenger. Feel free to yell at us there, as we accept our Circle of Excellence – Campus Relations and Scholarship award. The national award that actually points to Will Write For Food as one of the reasons our chapter won. In case you missed it, I’ve got it for you here: http://www.spjsofla.net/2011/08/circle-of-excellence-campus-relations/
Carry on with your reprimand.