'To know why I stay in the business, you need to know me'

Commentary

By Aissatou Sidime-David
San Antonio (Texas) Express-News

04.12.02

Printer-friendly page

Aissatou Sidime-David

Text of remarks today at the American Society of Newspaper Editors convention in Washington, D.C., by Aissatou Sidime-David. The San Antonio Express-News business reporter offered newspaper editors thoughts on how to retain minority journalists.

To know why I stay in the business, you need to know me.

I'm a would-be entrepreneur at heart. I come from a family of scrappers in every sense of the word: My mother tossed newspapers and sold incense on street corners in Memphis, Tenn., to instill in her children a desire to be economically self-sufficient. My aunt battled gangs of rowdy young men and condescending housing directors in her public housing complex in Lake Charles, La., to fight constitutionally untenable one-strike-and-you're-out drug policies while making the place safe for elderly tenants.

So I have two professional drives: to own my own business and to control my fate and how others see me. For me, the two are mutually exclusive. Each has its place. I don't want to control a media company.

Second, I'm a planner. Here's my life as I planned it: Finish valedictorian in high school, secure fully paid scholarship to university of choice, get internships, get graduate degree, get married and have two children, write five years for newspapers, get an MBA, start my company ... . Hold up! I'm in my eighth year as a full-time reporter. So what happened?

First, I stay because my company says, 'Thank you for being you.' It lets me wear my braids to work, cover African-American art, which is a passion, take off when I'm ill regardless of whether I have sick days remaining. My company shows its thanks by giving us lowly reporters a chance at the company tickets to the opera, symphony or NBA Spurs courtside seats; by not chewing me up when I make a mistake; by trusting me to find and write stories that are relevant to our diverse readers; by paying me fairly for my creative skills. Moreover, I can freely walk in and chat with Editor Bob Rivard or send him e-mail offering a 1A story idea or questioning his decision not to launch a neighborhood section in an under-served area of town, or ask his opinion on a local activist and 1.) get a response back, usually the same day; 2.) not have to fear that he'll retaliate against me for challenging his judgment; and 3.) see some of my ideas appear in the paper.

Second, I had mentors — Denise Williams in Virginia, Frank Lebar in Sacramento, Reggie Stuart in Nashville, Bobbi Bowman, now at ASNE — who alternately stroked my back, shouted my praises and pushed my limits. Some of them don't even know I consider them my mentors. But they were my mine — because they were my cheerleading squad that also wasn't afraid to tell me what I needed to hear. For example, I've been in a newsroom where I wanted to shift beats, so I asked upper management to help me design a plan of career development that would lead to the beat I wanted. I later volunteered to cover the beat when it was temporarily vacant due to illness, with the prior agreement that following that stint the AME would reassess my work and help me design a professional-development strategy. I tried for three months after that temporary stint but could never get upper management to meet with me to discuss my future. So I found a bigger paper, with a different company, that would advance my career as I wanted. I know other reporters in similar situations who just left the industry. In that situation, my mentors gave me a third assessment of my work and the names of editors to contact when job hunting.

Third, I began mentoring younger journalists: They come to me with their fears, fears that I've lived through, such as: How do I start covering education? My husband won't move, but I want the job and I'm afraid I may resent him if I don't take it. Can I be happy as the lone minority journalist in X newsroom? And I get excited about exorcising their demons! It speaks to my good Catholic upbringing, repays my mentors for their sound guidance and fits with my belief in the necessity of an extended family.

Fourth, I've waited long enough, read enough, and talked to enough writers to get intrigued by the craft of writing. I'm a personal-finance writer. Yes, I love it when a couple that has wanted a home for years calls to say it finally got one because of a story I wrote and is passing my story on to family members. People care about what we do and so I want to give them, and myself, my best. Now, in this place and time, I'm not the writer I want to be. I need more time, more time to investigate ideas and issues, more time to write and more time to reach my literary zenith.

Finally, as a young reporter, and even now, I want to believe my paper has integrity. Young reporters often know their weaknesses and want to get better, so they'll forgo higher pay at one [newspaper] for a great editor at another. But don't claim to be a "coaching" paper when you're not. It'll show. It'll disappoint and, moreover, it'll hurt the company's credibility. If you don't have a coaching hour built into the daily editing schedule or the lineup of daily and weekly meetings, you're not offering the level of concerted and consistent coaching that [journalists] need. No one wants to feel stuck someplace where they either can't advance or can't develop their skills further.

When my friends have left the industry, it's been because their papers didn't show their appreciation. Or their pay did not cover rent, car notes and student-loan payments, let alone leave anything for retirement savings in the 401K plan. It's been because managers who hadn't spent time talking with non-journalist/non-political types in years felt they knew readers' interests better than the reporters and line editors. Or because they felt stuck in a job that was unfulfilling. Only one of six friends left because she realized reporting was inherently the wrong field for her. Historically, workers and employers had a covenant: Being hired was a promise of lifetime security to all employees who followed company dictates. The pension and gold watch dangling at the end of the line encouraged delayed gratification, and sometimes deferring career goals. But that promise began dying in the 1980s. U.S. corporations changed the rules for financial reasons. And [as in] a marriage that no longer works, workers altered their expectations. We no longer expect or want to work at one entity for life. We no longer expect to hang around as our goals are deferred. We expect corporations to give us the tools to meet our journalistic and personal goals TODAY. We've raised our expectations for newspapers. We're committed to searching until we find the ones that will meet our standards.

Aissatou Sidime-David was a 1991 Chips Quinn Scholar. A graduate of Xavier University in New Orleans, Sidime-David interned at the Sacramento Bee.

Related

Communication, training help keep journalists of color in newsrooms
ASNE panels, speakers deal with minority-retention issues at newspapers.  04.16.02

Coverage of diversity discussions, ASNE 2002
Collection page for coverage of newsroom-diversity discussions at ASNE, 2002.  04.17.02