Two years ago, I co-authored a story about how UW-Madison officials digitally altered the cover photograph for an admissions booklet to include a black student to make the picture, and by extension, the campus, appear more diverse.
A day or two before we published the story, I had the chance to interview that student. Before the interview, he asked me to hold off on the story. He was in talks with administration officials about different ways to remedy the situation, and he was worried that if the story came to light, the talks would go sour.
I believed in the power of the media. The bright searing light of the media would bring with it public scrutiny, which, in turn, would make everything better. The university would be forced to take major action. They would have to deal with him. And he would have leverage. He would have victim-celebrity status. Which would give him the media as a pulpit, and therefore, the power to swing the balance his way.
Immediately after the story, the university recalled the brochures, put out new ones and made a public apology, along with some efforts to better integrate students of color with the admissions office. Outside of the university, the story went national, vaulting to the forefront discussions of both media ethics and race on campus.
Looking back now, I recognize my naivete.
First, that bright, searing light, considering all the attention it received, certainly was bright. But was it searing? On campus, that booklet became the physical manifestation of the university's diversity problems. But, the speech code sparked a similar debate a year before the story; David Horowitz's controversial advertisement arguing against slavery reparations would do the same less than six months later.
Nationally, the story was re-reported, misrepresented, distorted and generalized. The media seems to have a knack for diluting complicated stories into nothing more than a two-sided battle.
The central issue morphed from diversity and campus climate issues into personal and personnel struggles. It was about whether the student would sue. Whether the administrator(s) would resign.
I thought I was giving students of color a magic lamp of sorts: If they used it wisely, their wishes could come true. But, what I discovered in the weeks that followed the publication of that story is what would ultimately cool me to journalism. I watched how the big story-and big media'-can devour someone's life. I saw a young, intelligent, articulate black man become a national joke'witness Comedy Central's Jon Stewart, digitally inserting himself into the altered photo, jokingly offering advice.
I watched this student become a public figure to be praised and criticized, sympathized and heckled. As if he were the embodiment of all that was right or wrong (depending on your view) with how students of color approach diversity issues.
He withdrew, and waited for the media storm to blow over. And, thereafter, made an out-of-court settlement with the university. But he certainly paid a price for it.
And, since every story needs a hero, this newspaper filled the role. It was the biggest story I had ever been associated with. And I desperately wanted our paper to get as much positive publicity as possible. So, we played the media.
Just as real newspaper reporters go on TV and radio to explain their stories, so did we. My co-author, who kicked off the investigation, was quoted in The Washington Post. She and I, along with other representatives of the Daily Cardinal would go on to be interviewed on the radio, local TV and other media outlets.
Frankly, we ate it up.
All of a sudden, we were the experts on campus climate. We were the ones who were appalled at the actions of university officials. We were the defenders of students' rights, of media ethics.
But, we were just student reporters, which often steered the interview toward the \Oh, isn't that cute"" ending, as opposed to keeping the focus on diversity issues.
And, we were all white, which made us poor spokespersons for how students of color felt on this campus. And, aside from a couple of goofy messages on the office answering machine, we were left unscathed from the whole event.
When I think back to my actions two years ago, I am ashamed at my naivete. I should have known that the tough issues would be reduced and simplified; that the student would be vilified.
But this newspaper, myself included, should have shied away from the spotlight. We shouldn't have tried to be experts when we weren't. We shouldn't have taken advantage of that student's pain.
