Reinvent Yourself
Reinvent Yourself
Reinvent Yourself
Presented by the
NABJ Founders Task Force
at the
34th Annual Convention
of the
National Association of Black Journalists
Tampa, Florida
August 2009
Copy of the roster of those who signed up and paid
dues at NABJ’s founding meeting on Dec. 12, 1975.
Reinvent Yourself
Essays From Those Who Have Been There and Done That
Table of Contents
In what seems like less than a single news cycle, reinvention has become the
mantra for the business of journalism and media, the key to survival for many
veteran journalists, and the most reliable prescription or pathway to success for
those starting their careers in journalism.
Although, arguably, the basic tenants of good journalism have not changed much in
a generation, the methods of delivering news and information are constantly
morphing, from print to radio to television to the Internet to wireless and beyond.
In the past year or so, the newspaper business has undergone a near apocalyptic
economic upheaval, with variable giants in the industry at or near financial
collapse, sending hundreds of veteran journalists into early retirement, or worse
yet, into a crowded marketplace in search of jobs. In order to salvage their careers,
many such journalists have had to reinvent their careers, to morph their skills to
meet new demands in a constantly changing workplace.
The NABJ Founders Task Force asked its members – consisting mainly of the
organization’s founders, past presidents and former board members who joined
NABJ at least 25 years ago – to share their stories of reinvention in a series of short
essays. What follows are extremely personal stories, full of candor, insight,
innovation and perseverance, that is, the stuff of which successful careers are
made. Some readers will find the essays inspiring; others may see them as perhaps
the first drafts of the history of a generation of black journalists in America.
For still others, these essays will provide practical tips and rules of the road in
navigating a career in journalism in the 21st century.
The NABJ Founders Task Force owes a special debt of gratitude to Paul Brock,
Leon Dash, Wayne Dawkins and Herbert Lowe for their tireless efforts in
soliciting, editing and presenting the essays in this publication and on the NABJ
Web site. Most importantly, we thank those veteran journalists who took the time
to share their stories with us.
Some of those whose essays appear here will be featured in a special panel
discussion at the NABJ Convention in Tampa. The panel, titled “Reinvention: How
to Transition Your Career Without Losing Ground,” will take place at 2 p.m. on
Saturday, Aug. 8, in Room 16 at the Tampa Convention Center.
Maureen Bunyan
Les Payne
Bob Reid
NABJ Founders Task Force Co-Chairpersons
It’s what I call the need to grow or die – my second principle. The bottom line is
that you’re either adding to your skill set and, with a little luck, advancing in your
career, or you risk stagnation and, to use the common euphemism, face the
possibility of outplacement. When it became clear that I would not immediately
have an opportunity to advance at my desired pace on my first job, I began looking
for other work. The new job I found was in television news.
It was the first reinvention of my career, from print journalism to reporting and
producing for television news. At every job I’ve had since that first one, I’ve
always sought to “know thy self” in making career decisions. Understanding and
accepting that I don’t function well unless I have challenging and fulfilling work,
I’ve never been able to settle down in a comfortable job situation with the
expectation of staying there for more than a few years, let alone until retirement.
I’ve also avoided getting too deeply rooted in any given company or city – the
fourth principle. Such loyalty and unbreakable ties can rule out many exciting job
prospects because they might require leaving a big name company for a lesser
known one, or worse yet, relocation. Not everyone wants to move more than once
or twice in a lifetime. For me, doing so has paid dividends time and time again.
Know your job well and those of the people around you. By understanding that
reporting and writing are the basis of both the newspaper and television businesses,
I had the confidence to make that transition early in my career. Of course, there
were new skills I had to learn as a new television reporter. However, I knew also
that I could rely on my strengths in reporting and writing to carry me while I
learned and adapted to the new medium. Fortunately, I was helped along the way
by participating in the first of the Summer Training Programs for Minority
Journalists at Columbia University, a reminder that one should never pass up an
opportunity to learn more about their job, especially if it’s free. Using this summer
program to help develop an in-depth knowledge of the TV news business, I saw
that show producers and assignment editors advanced to senior management more
often than reporters. Give up the chance to become a recognizable personality in
order to make decisions about what gets covered and maybe even run something:
Seemed like a good trade off for me. It has enabled me to have a long and mostly
successful career in television, albeit one with many twists and turns.
Along the way, I’ve achieved a number of firsts for African Americans: first cub
reporter of color at my newspaper; first black television reporter in my city; first
black bureau chief for NBC News. I’ve also been fired more than once but never
because of a lack of diligence or competence on my part.
The fifth principle, “nothing lasts forever,” is arguably the most important. Beyond
the obvious, it is also a warning never to become complacent or take success for
granted. Our success as individuals can hinge as much on a change in ownership,
or senior management of the company, as on how talented we are or how hard we
work. Be forward thinking at all times. The demise of the newspaper business may
have caught most of the industry off guard, but the growing popularity of cable
news channels had already created a major disruption in the way most consumers
get their news and information. Years before that, both local television and network
news departments had seen their budgets squeezed when the business imperative of
corporate profits took precedence over any notion of news as public service.
NABJ Founders Task Force
Reinvent Yourself
8
It was a change in ownership and the subsequent shrinkage in the size of the
network news budgets at CBS News that first led me to look beyond traditional
newsgathering for challenging and gratifying work. It was 1987 and with
Entertainment Tonight building on the success of such shows as PM Magazine, so-
called soft news or infotainment formats were on the rise, particularly in
syndicated television. My skills in reporting, interviewing, writing and editing tape
applied as much to a syndicated magazine program as to local or network news.
Switching from hard news to soft was the second reinvention in my career. Along
the way, I worked as a field producer or director for shows ranging from
Entertainment Tonight to Rescue 911. During this period, I added to my credentials
by teaching a course in advanced television news production at the University of
Southern California Graduate School of Journalism. We’ll see if that experience
comes in handy in a few years when it’s time for me to step away from the front
lines of media, but not quite time to put myself out to pasture.
Since 1997, I’ve worked in cable television, my career’s third reinvention. I broke
into cable as an executive producer, a position that combines skills acquired
supervising news coverage at almost any level. The key was to find the best
induction point. Aim too low and you get trapped in work that is ultimately
unsatisfying and leads nowhere. Aim too high and risk losing your credibility with
the cable hiring manager. As such, I considered the job of executive producer –
overseeing the production of documentaries – to be a good transition point because
there were so many parallels to my own background and experience, making me a
credible candidate for the job. That was important because I knew I had to
convince the cable television establishment that I could be successful in its world.
Learning the cable business enabled me to rise rapidly through the ranks to first
head up the production department as vice president, where I oversaw the work of
10 executive producers; and then advance to executive vice president and general
manager at Discovery Health Channel, with the responsibility for running the
network. Presently, I’m running The Africa Channel (www.theafricachannel.com),
a start up cable television network that I launched, along with its co-founders.
Successfully launching a television network requires every skill I have learned in
my career, but the first principles still guide my decision-making process: Know
thyself. Never stop improving. Know your industry. Don’t get too attached to any
particular company or city. Never forget that nothing lasts forever.
NABJ Founders Task Force
Reinvent Yourself
9
Maureen Bunyan
My parents left their birthplace (Guyana) to find a better life on the island of Aruba
(where I was born) and left there to find an even better life in the U.S. I learned at
an early age what it meant to make and accept major changes in location, culture,
employment and friends.
At the end of 1995, I was made a “take it or leave it” offer of a new contract by my
employer. The offer and the attitude with which it was made were not to my liking.
But, in addition to learning and practicing my craft, I had also spent a lot of time
(and some money) learning about myself and my strengths: over the years
I had made formal and informal assessments of my talents and personality.
I also was fortunate in that I had never fallen into the trap of identifying too closely
with my “job.”
I knew that my skills as a journalist and broadcaster could be applied in many ways
and that my strengths of personality, including courage and determination, would
always serve me well.
So, it was not hard for me to quickly reject the “take it or leave it” offer from my
employer and make the decision never to look back.
I decided I would not look for another “job,” but would create a consulting
business and become my own boss.
I called friends in the communications and media world and offered my services as
a speaker, writer, editor, observer and “quick study,” and I found that they valued
my experience and insights into the important issues of the day. My consulting
business also benefited from the many contacts I had made over the years via
speaking engagements and public appearances around Washington, and from my
service with nonprofit and professional organizations including NABJ.
When this comes to an end, I know I will be ready to apply my personal strengths
and professional skills to the next step.
After all, I am the child of immigrants who were able to “reinvent” their lives and
careers in a new country with nothing more than their personal strengths and
professional skills.
One adviser, a local reporter angling for national assignments suggested out of self
interest that I take the editor job. A more altruistic buddy saw a chance for me to
influence journalism more broadly. Still another cited the management bonuses.
My wife, sensing fewer road trips for me, voted for acceptance, also.
As a reporter, I roamed the world with a gig as thrilling as cattle rustling and just as
risky. Joyously daring and carefree, I stood responsible for my work only. The
national editor’s job would tether me to a desk and saddle me with the work of
others. The editor, alas, is charged to make the news world safe for reporters and
often against their very own excesses. Then there would be the endless meetings
with insecure editors who never felt the wind of the world in their faces. This,
indeed, would require a reinvention. The leadership role intrigued me. I had tasted
authority as a U.S. Army Ranger captain commanding a Nike-Hercules missile
battery with its millions of dollars of equipment and 200-odd soldiers.
Still, I delayed my national editor decision for a month in hopes the offer would go
away. Such tarrying is usually not possible, granted – especially these days when
the decisions of others force journalists to reinvent themselves straightaway under
enormous pressure. Expediency must not be allowed to override key guiding
principles in making the reinvention decision. Independence was one of my key
considerations. In accepting the national editor’s job, I hedged on the commitment
by holding onto my weekly column – at great sacrifice. Many a morning, I was up
at 5 a.m., no small matter for my nocturnal soul, polishing off a column started
after closing the daily national book the previous midnight.
What’s the reward? I have sustained the sweet, wild, swashbuckling joy that
journalism afforded my independent spirit from the very beginning. And in this
techno-miraculous age, I blog merrily down the Internet highway exhilarated by
the force of reason, forcing the thugs of bigotry to back up while putting something
akin to a lead pipe in the hands of a people bent on justice.
It seems that I have been going through periods of reinvention my entire life.
In the 1930s, if you were poor and black, you had to know how to reinvent
yourself, often, sometimes daily. I grew up in a black neighborhood in Washington.
I learned early that to get summer jobs or work after school, I needed to reinvent
myself to speak like the majority population spoke. Not “walkin’ aroun’” but
“walking around.” Not “PO lice,” but “p’lice.” Not “fried-day,” but “Fri-day.”
In the fall of 1950, I entered Howard University as a freshman. I still had faded
dreams of someday being a famous mystery writer. But a high school chemistry
teacher convinced me that as a black male from D.C., it was long past time for me
to pursue a more practical career. I decided to seek one as a federal government
analytical chemist. I completed two years of Howard’s School of Pharmacy before
the draft and the Korean War interrupted my plans. Following my service career, I
Within two months, I was offered a full-time news position and resigned my job
with IBM. Six months later, I started an island-wide TV Guide magazine, and
when I wasn’t working my news shift, I was out selling advertisements for my
publication. Within three months, I was given a choice between giving up my
magazine or my job at the radio station. When I related my dilemma to the general
manager (and owner) of the St. Thomas television station, he offered me a job
there. Basically, my duties were TV show film editing, cameraman for the live
shows and weekend news anchor and cameraman. At the end of my Saturday news
anchor show, I raced from the TV station’s mountaintop location to the downtown
Hilton Hotel, where I did the other local radio station’s weekend jazz show.
There were two St. Thomas radio stations and one TV station, so I enjoyed great
exposure and saw many listeners and viewers late at night on weekends. Many
were tourists from New York and, they convinced me that they would help me to
secure a broadcast job when I moved back to the States. Unfortunately, I believed
them. I moved to New York, but not only were there no jobs waiting for me, most
of these “friends” wouldn’t even return my calls. With four children to feed, I
secured an IBM-related job – selling used IBM equipment, with the understanding
that I could get days off when filling in for an announcer at New York’s all-news
WINS radio. I also taught part time at a school for adult foreign students.
Again, lady luck smiled on me. One of the teachers there was also the wife of the
ABC television network’s general counsel. Broadcast networks, and the nation,
were just beginning to focus on the importance of fair employment and diversity.
Through his wife, I met the general counsel and he set it up for me to have an
interview for a new show being developed – to be called “Wide World of Sports.”
Three years later, one of those New York producers called. He had just been named
general manager of a new radio station in the Washington area – and wanted to hire
me as news director. The station, WETA-FM, was to be a non-commercial public
radio station, heavy on classical music, upscale talk and in-depth news and news
analysis. This was right down my alley, and allowed me to expand my connections
with Congress (where I had sold most of my IBM computers) and delve into many
of the national political stories I had always found so fascinating.
After several years at WETA-FM radio, the general manager of WETA-TV called
me to his office and said he was a member of an official search committee for a
news director of a new network of public radio stations. It was to be called
National Public Radio. He wanted to place my name in the mix. I quickly agreed.
Several months later, I found out I was one of three finalists, and was invited in for
a final interview. It was the middle of the summer, and I had taken to wearing
colorful and well-starched dashikis. I had also grown a well-groomed and shapely
afro and beard. I did not think of how this emerging “I’m Black and I’m proud”
attitude and dress might impact conservative business leaders – many of whom
were still trying to get use to “new and assertive Negroes.” Naturally, I was
disappointed when I did not get the job.
Not long after my NPR interview, I reinvented myself and accepted a job as the
news director at WHUR-FM radio, with the stipulation that I could do a daily one-
hour news program. I don’t think, up until that time, that there had ever been a
black-owned or -operated radio station do a daily radio news program that long.
Due to audience demand, we eventually went to a two-hour evening news show.
In 1974, Mal Johnson of Cox Broadcasting and I founded a local media group
patterned after the Philadelphia Association of Black Journalists. We called it the
Washington Association of Black Journalists. Our main goal was to sponsor a
monthly newsmaker luncheon with national black newsmakers as primary guests.
After several years at WHUR and still doing a weekly WETA one-hour remote
broadcast, I eventually burned out, and reinvented myself as deputy director of
communications at the Democratic National Committee.
Mal and I had long before reinvented ourselves as expert event planners. Working
with my Howard University intern, Maurice Williams, we found a hotel suite large
enough to hold the expected journalists coming to the meeting, and prepared
breakfast and lunch meals for them. We also ensured that Maurice had a large
enough van to pick up James Baldwin (and his entourage), who was the NABJ
fundraising dinner speaker that evening. (Two years later, Maurice became the
nation’s first black journalist killed in the line of duty during a shooting in the D.C.
district building.) The fundraiser was a huge financial success, with almost all of
the Congressional Black Caucus members on hand as well as many black elected
officials in town for a Joint Center for Political Study conference.
The next year, in 1976, I became vice president of news and operations with the
Mutual Black Network (now American Urban Radio Network). Once again, I had
to reinvent myself. Since then I have gone through many more reinventions:
NAACP public affairs director under Executive Director Benjamin Hooks. Film
producer for such efforts as Denmark Vesey’s “Rebellion,” Gordon Parks’
“Solomon Northrop’s Odyssey” and Melba Moore’s “Charlotte Forten’s Mission:
Experiment in Freedom.” Plenty of work as a media consultant to many
corporations and organizations, even to this day.
There have been many moments when I wondered how did I keep managing to get
myself into such a fix? Looking back and reflecting, however, I know that each of
my experiences and reinventions have made me stronger.
The opportunity to reflect about my career and the myriad changes over the
years is something that I have written about but never really internalized.
I have written about the path from poorly paid junior high teacher to better paid
factory worker, from factory worker with some artistic skills to an opportunity to
be a news artist at the Courier-Journal in Louisville.
This journey, at first glance, seemed to be one of luck. There would be no more
early adolescent kids pumping hormones when I became a factory worker. After
all, I had a wife and new baby to support. But this move created a world of
chemicals and doubts about where I was heading in life so I became even more
involved with my first love – art. I grabbed the opportunity to show my art
wherever I could.
Then, during the late 1960s, when social and racial unrest was at their apex, I had
another opportunity. Volunteering to join a white reporter covering a street rally
protesting police brutality, the rally quickly got out of hand. Fearing for the white
reporter’s safety, I flagged a friend and sent the reporter back to the newspaper.
It was left to me to report back with my artistic eye. I called in the story from
various phone booths. For the next 48 hours, I was the newspaper’s only reporter
on the scene. The photographer they sent out became a target for the crowd so I
hired my kid brother and his friend to take photos.
When order was restored, I returned to the paper and my old seat in the art
department. Shortly thereafter, editors called me again and asked me to assist a
team of reporters in covering an anatomy of the civil disorders.
Shades of the Kerner Commission! They wanted my opinion! Weeks after, the
publisher of the newspaper called and told me they were happy with my help and
strongly suggested a way that I could be of immense use to the newspaper.
I wasn’t sure. I had a young family. I wouldn’t see them for awhile. But this was a
whole new experience and I took advantage of the opportunity. I realized that I
already had a checklist that I had used subconsciously when making earlier
changes in my life. Based on advice from former teachers at Tuskegee University
and mentors along the way, I had developed this life lesson checklist over time.
Even in this economic downturn, there are still opportunities out there in our
business. What I have learned is that you must be able to listen for the opportunity
and be your own advocate. Times are tough and it is easy to lose heart, but if you
are innovative, you will survive.
As I walked out of his office, I said with confidence that I would get a job on a
newspaper. Then I recalled his words and decided I needed a backup in case I
didn’t get one. I decided to get a second major in sociology to go along with my
journalism major. I finished all of my courses in December 1955 but was listed in
the graduation class of 1956 since the school had only one graduation a year.
I applied to more than 50 newspapers and did not receive a response. I attempted to
The next day, the Akron Beacon Journal called and interviewed me for three hours.
Editor Ben Maidenburg said: “We have hillbillies and drunks in the newsroom.
What would you do if one of them called you a nigger?” I said, “Mr. Maidenburg,
let me ask you a question before I answer you. Who signs the paychecks?”
He said, “I do.” I told him, “I don’t give a damn what they say in the newsroom.”
When I took my first newspaper job, I was hired at $56 per week. This was a $4
pay cut from $60 offered to me as social worker.
I was the only person of color at the Beacon Journal among 600 employees. I was
the only person of color in the newsroom for 10 years. I was moved to practically
every position in the newsroom. Some of the moves were sideways. I was a
reporter, farm editor, assistant state editor, assistant news editor, news editor, city
editor, assistant managing editor, managing editor and the executive editor.
In 1985, I reinvented myself again. I left the newsroom and went to Knight Ridder
corporate headquarters in Miami and became vice president of minority affairs and
diversity. I created 15 diversity programs for Knight Ridder and had the
responsibility of recruitment and development of minorities and women throughout
the corporation’s 35 newspapers and other entities.
Back in those days, black journalists had a special “duality.” We were mostly race
reporters who covered a local black community – until a national race story broke,
at which point, we became national correspondents for our news organizations.
That’s how NABJ’s 44 founding members ended up in Washington on Dec. 12,
Shortly after I arrived, Jeanne Saddler, the only other black reporter at the Sun, left
the paper. Her departure caused me to press the paper’s publisher and editors to
hire more blacks. While those efforts produced good results, I became a marked
man at the paper. In 1978, after getting all but one of the black reporters at the Sun
and its sister paper, the Evening Sun, to sign a petition demanding that the papers
hire a black assistant city editor, columnist, editorial writers and national and
foreign correspondent, my boss demoted me. After nearly three years of covering
local, state and national issues, he made me the backup obituary writer.
Three months later, I quit. Leaving the Sun taught me an important lesson: Don’t
let a job hold you – or your journalism – hostage. Newspapers, magazines, cable
and television stations and the Internet are simply delivery systems for the news
and information journalists produce.
Over the years, I have found many ways to deliver my journalism. I hosted a public
affairs program on WBAL-TV in Baltimore and worked as a contributor to CBS
News. In 1985, I began writing a national column for USA Today and the Gannett
News Service, a job I continue to do. In 2001, I created the Institute for Advanced
Journalism Studies after Delaware State University named me its distinguished
professor of journalism and scholar-in-residence. Three years later, I accepted an
appointment as the distinguished professor of journalism at North Carolina A&T
State University and moved my institute to that school.
I’ve used my institute to help black journalists enhance their newswriting and
reporting skills, and students to prepare for a journalism career. I have raised funds
to send more than 100 black journalists and journalism students on reporting trips
to Cuba, Brazil, Columbia, Panama, Mexico, Haiti and Jamaica – experiences that
I believed make them better journalists. I don’t know what the future holds for me,
but this much is certain, 31 years after I was forced to quit the Baltimore Sun: I am
the master of my journalistic voice.
This year’s holiday marks the third year of my independence from a traditional
television newsroom. I couldn’t be happier because now I am living and
experiencing the second half of my career.
July 3, 2006, marked the day I was liberated from my “corporate slavery” of the
Fox affiliate in Atlanta. My departure from the television station, after 27 years of
service, was not on my time schedule, but it was on God’s time schedule.
You know the old folks always say, “Be careful of what you ask for.”
Well, my 50th birthday came and went and as I approached 51, I wasn’t really
doing anything to make my pledge come true. So, the Higher Power stepped in and
moved me out of that comfortable environment of regular paychecks and full
benefits. There really was no incentive for me to change my lifestyle for the better,
even though I often lamented, “News isn’t what it used to be.”
I’m an “old school” journalist who got into this profession to be a professional
storyteller, to be a watchdog, to be a voice for the voiceless, to expose injustices
and lies and to be of service to my community.
All those lofty goals have been eclipsed over the years by the drive for ratings and
dollars. The need to investigate, verify and justify disappeared from the discussions
in our newsroom. I soon found myself to be sort of a dinosaur because the
corporate mentality and my value system did not mesh.
So, it was time to move on. But I was literally afraid to admit it, much less do
anything about it.
I am years away from retirement age; yet I am too experienced to take the entry-
level positions and salaries that the bean counters in corporate America offer. I
became a budgetary consideration. This was the first time in my career that I
realized that someone else had controlled my destiny for 30 years. It took me all
that time, including taking my show to No. 1 for the first time in the history of the
station, to realize that there was something else for me to do.
Now, I have never been more thrilled to “do journalism differently” with my own
media consulting company, BreakThrough Inc. (www.breakthrough-atl.com).
I was able to leave before the floodgates opened and the entire journalism industry
imploded. Since I have witnessed the evolution in the news industry, I have been
able to adjust accordingly. Now, I am also using my company to help other
displaced journalists through a special project, Journalists To Go
(journaliststogo.com). I believe that the value system that shaped me as a journalist
is making a comeback as the industry morphs into the next generation.
I can still remember the shock and pain that heralded the beginning of my
reinvention about a dozen years ago. I was about to take a four-month leave from
writing my column for The Washington Post to become a Fellow at Harvard
University’s Institute for Policy Studies. During a farewell lunch with the new
metropolitan editor, I was astonished when she asked me if I’d like to consider an
assignment other than column writing when I returned.
Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. I had been a columnist for more than 17
years and had invested a lot in trying to build a reputation for integrity in the
community. Although it was a challenging job, it was also satisfying. Despite its
pains and difficulties, there were many perks. I made speeches around the country
and wrote columns that many readers told me brought about change. Besides, the
nation’s capital is an exciting venue for a columnist. The thought of losing my
When I returned to The Post after my mini-sabbatical, I knew the clock was
ticking. I came up with a three-pronged strategy for survival. (1) I would write the
column as long as possible. (2) I would aggressively investigate one editor’s
suggestion that I consider developing a program for high school students. (3) I
would consider outside options. I pursued this strategy against a backdrop of 25
years of having been deeply involved in the struggle of journalists of color for
racial diversity in the media. I spent evenings, weekends and parts of my summers
engaged in this activity. Before leading NABJ, I was a founding member of the
Institute for Journalism Education (later re-named for my friend and co-founder
Robert C. Maynard) and served as chair for nearly 10 years.
When it was time to retire, after 33 years at the paper, I conferred with the acting
director of George Washington University’s School of Media and Public Affairs,
with whom I had worked in the program at The Post. Out of that collaboration
grew the Prime Movers Media Program at G.W. Currently the Prime Movers
Media Program attracts professional journalists and college interns to urban high
schools in both the Washington and Philadelphia area.
Over the past 5 years, the program has help to train 2,500 students. Most of them
are people of color. In this reinvention period, I now call myself a social
entrepreneur. I am actively helping to raise funds for the program, and during our
five-year history I have raised more than $1.5 million.
I’ve often spoken to journalism aspirants about what it takes to make it in our
industry and they almost always ask about my personal background and training. I
am a product of the “old school” way of learning journalism.
Having grown up in rural South Carolina and in very small television markets, I
found out very quickly that the more things I learned to do in television news, the
better off I would be in the future. So I took on any and all tasks necessary to get
my product on the air, particularly because there was no one else around to do it.
I learned to write and properly craft a story. I learned to operate the camera with
details to angles and lighting techniques. I learned the art of television editing. I
learned to produce programming. I learned to report. I learned to anchor. But the
funny thing is, as I progressed in market sizes and skill levels, I found that I had to
In fact, I remember one occasion while working for NBC 10 Philadelphia. I wanted
to use my coffee cup on the air on the anchor desk. Little did I know that I couldn’t
simply carry it in the studio myself because now that the cup was going to be used
on the air, my cup was magically transformed to a “prop.” This meant I had to give
the prop (cup) to my producer prior to airtime. My producer had to then give it to
the stage manager (who handled all props) to carry into the studio. And then upon
my request in studio, I could have the cup delivered to me on the anchor desk so
that I could drink. Ridiculous right? But I digress.
Well, somewhere along the way, the industry began to shift and downsize. Many of
those meaningless jobs were cut, but so too were many of the meaningful, very
important jobs. News operations, in an effort to reduce costs, are now opting away
from so-called “specialists” who only do one specific job and are seeking
employees who can perform multiple tasks well. In essence, they want people with
diverse skill sets and backgrounds like mine. In my current capacity at the Comcast
Network in Philadelphia, after my entire staff of producers, writers and
photographers were laid off, I now many times produce my own programming.
I shoot stories with my personal high-definition Sony camera. I edit using Final
Cut Pro on my Mac computer. I produce and manage programs and documentary
projects. I shoot still photography for television and print productions using my
Nikon SLR camera. I recently incorporated all of these talents as I traveled alone
without a crew to Africa for a documentary project.
Basically, the very skills that I acquired long ago in the sticks in rural South
Carolina, I have now dusted off and repolished for use today. No longer is it good
enough to put on a designer suit and sit at an anchor desk; you may be called upon
to help build the anchor desk if you want to keep your job. I am now quite often
back in the field reporting, carrying my own equipment and one-man-banding, just
like I once did as a cub reporter.
My point is simple: in today’s ever changing, highly volatile news industry, you
have to remain relevant by any means necessary. In my case, it meant going back
to the beginning and remembering how to do more with less, but still do it
effectively. By the way, that one-man-band, Africa documentary project that I
mentioned aired with rave reviews and has been nominated for an Emmy Award.
Wish me luck.
Call it what you want, but it’s all about branding. You must be the CEO of Y-O-
U. Here’s what must be done: Research. Perform. Define. Focus. Refine.
Research: Look for gaps, then fill them. I forgot why I got into journalism.
Intentionally. I started in this business decades ago. But I quickly came to realize
that if I didn’t stay ahead of the game, I would be left behind. I left my humble,
meaningful desire to change the world as a reporter and started focusing on
changing myself. Only three years into my reporting career, I started trying
different things while working at the Courier-Post in Cherry Hill, New Jersey.
Rather than complain about writing municipal meeting, police and weather stories,
I took them on as challenges, writing ear-catching leads, identifying just the right
quotes and learning to edit my own work. I asked for assignments others didn’t
want, including writing obituaries and even covering the Ku Klux Klan.
Focus: Create clear objectives. As you move through your career, someone else
usually establishes your work objectives. That’s why you must create clear
branding objectives. How is your brand going to be built and used? Where do you
want to go? Rather than focus on a single job or title, focus on experiences,
learning and skills. The most successful are those who seek continuous learning.
Have a Plan A, Plan B and Plan C. Share them with only trusted advisors.
Refine: Time to make some decisions. As you become more comfortable with
your brand, you may need to let go of a comfortable salary, title and situation as
you continue to be true to yourself, your values and your people. You may need to
tweak your brand after realizing that you can’t recognize yourself versus the roles
you’ve been filling. You may need to ditch an objective or two because you’re
older, wiser and have different needs. You may need to leave – so don’t fall in love
with any business or company so much that you can’t put yourself first.
In summary, I’ll share with you what I’ve shared with my son, Tre, since before he
could talk (live it and you’ll reinvent yourself daily, because you must): Have fun.
Learn a lot. Do something good for somebody. Every day.
People who know me know that I often describe myself as a “sponge” and in
coaching staff or talking to young people I will encourage them to be sponges. By
that I mean in any and every situation absorb all the information that you can.
Process that information through your own filter and then apply what works for
you to your professional DNA.
For example, if you are an employee with a poor manager, be a sponge in all
interactions with the boss. Observe, learn and understand what qualities made that
person a poor manager, and when you become a manger, don’t do those things.
The converse is also true. Be a sponge to a great manager and embody those
qualities in your management and leadership. True reinvention success comes
when one is able to be a sponge in all situations. The more information you take in
and process into your own professional DNA the more able you will be to achieve
reinvention success.
I have worked for the same company for more than 20 years, something that is
unheard of in journalism. I have not had the same job in those 20-plus years and I
am always willing to help out wherever. No job in our organization is beneath me,
for I have found leadership by example results in our greatest success.
While serving as NABJ president, just a few years ago, I sought to ban
programming at our annual convention that aimed to help black journalists leave
the profession. So it surprised many people when some 18 months later, I left my
reporting job at Newsday on Long Island to become communications director for
the Congressional Black Caucus Foundation (CBCF) in Washington.
Many say I was fortunate to have a Plan B. These days, I urge all my journalism
friends to have your own Plan B. More than that, I urge you to save as much
money as you can, so you can be free to pursue that plan, or have enough left to
move onto Plan C or Plan D. Figure out what you would spend all your time doing
if you won the lottery (for me, it’s presenting stories digitally). Then pursue it and
see how much money you can actually make from it. Pursue a master’s degree if
you don’t have one. With so many former journalists out there these days, every
There was just one problem. Communications director sounded like public
relations. My PR friends will hopefully understand how much of a jolt this might
be to a journalist’s DNA given my 22 years at several newspapers across the
country. Fortunately, it quickly dawned on me to focus on my strengths. I found
new and creative ways to tell the foundation’s story, mostly by dramatically
revamping its quarterly newsletter, its primary Web site and the in-house daily
newspaper at its annual conference, best known as “CBC Weekend,” in D.C.
Beyond that, I edited a 160-page book commemorating the Congressional Black
Caucus’ historic influence in the 110th Congress and during the 2008 election.
The truth is, I had been preparing for that job throughout my entire journalism
career and NABJ service. All the news releases I wrote to highlight our
association’s successes, those times I edited the NABJ Journal and anniversary
tributes dedicated to the past presidents, leading the revamping of NABJ’s Web site
in 2004 – all of this in addition to my daily journalism enabled me to further my
capacity for telling stories that uplift, motivate and inspire.
In February, after 20 months with CBCF amid the Obama phenomenon, I left D.C.
for Chicago, where my wife, Mira, is now editor-in-chief of JET. (Talk about
reinvention!) I have a new business, Aim High Media (www.aimhighmedia.net) –
remember, creating stories digitally – while I pursue my next reinvention.
My wish is that every NABJ member who wants to remain in journalism can do so.
I merely offer my example to show you can still tell stories outside a newsroom.
First I need to distinguish the difference between a chameleon and a city shape
shifter. A chameleon chooses to change defensively so as not to be discovered. The
city shape shifter is an urban-dwelling, assertive person and becomes whatever is
necessary in order to survive his situational surroundings.
I mention all of these things because when you redesign (or reinvent) yourself,
these skills become a deep pool or reservoir upon which you can draw. It was these
skills that served me so well as I moved into my career as a TV and radio talk show
host. During this period, I ventured into an adjacent career as a documentary
filmmaker and made several critically acclaimed documentaries.
All of these career moves and film ventures increased my curiosity and interest in
investigative journalism and how good journalism can empower your community.
Those insights led me to television – and eventually to the national and critically
acclaimed weekly news analysis show, “Black Perspective on the News,” a half-
hour production that I hosted and produced in the early 1970s with my lifetime
friend and co-host and co-producer Acel Moore.
This burning need for empowering my community through information and in-
depth essays continues even up until today through my daily radio show, “Urban
View Time.” I came along at a time when it was important for those of us who had
a means to share the power of information because it impacted the very existence
of black folks in Philadelphia.
Once again reinventing myself, this led to becoming a speechwriter for a number
of Philadelphia newsmakers, including two groundbreaking union leaders. These
ventures once again got me deeply involved in what goes on in my city. However,
as fate would have it, my speechwriting consulting work led me back to being a
full-time talk show host – and what I call broadcast journalism. Today, I have
returned to my firm commitment and deep resolve to my community, and older and
wiser I rely even more on my experience as a broadcast journalist.
The extent to which in the last 12 years I have focused my attention on broadcast
journalism and being a talk show host, documentarian and archivist depends upon
one’s point of view. Today we live in such a rich and spectacular time for those
who collect and report information. The news reporter is the twin of the historian,
working in different time frames. I find in this the current edition of Reggie
Bryant: I have become both journalist and quasi historian.
When you are deeply involved with a movement as I was – with the Southern
freedom movement as a Mississippi field secretary for the Student Nonviolent
Coordinating Committee (SNCC) – sometimes the language of struggle can be a
handicap when speaking convincingly to people who do not share your experience.
That’s what got me in the news business: a kind of reinvention from political
activism. Few had been louder in their criticism of how news folks covered the
movement than I.
Then National Public Radio asked me to join its news staff. I wasn’t sure if I
wanted to do it. My reluctance had to do with the audience. But NPR wanted me as
a foreign affairs reporter. A person I admired greatly, Goler Butcher, who was
Detroit Congressman Charles Diggs’ Counsel on the House Subcommittee on
Africa – said “Do it.” There are people you don’t reach who need to hear you,
Butcher said. So I went to NPR.
It was not a comfortable fit and I would leave after a few years. I entered the
freelance life. In this life, I had to do something I had never had to do before: sell
ideas to publications in order to earn a livelihood.
Almost accidentally – and it’s a story too long to tell here – National Geographic
magazine became one of my clients. Ultimately, the magazine offered me a staff
position.
I did – and became the first black staff writer they ever had. Best career decision I
ever made. The magazine’s highly stylized form of writing notwithstanding (first
person), no place has helped me more in the craft of storytelling, and my takes on
various places in the world were always respected.
I might still be there, but an old comrade from my Mississippi movement days,
Bob Moses, asked me to join him in a book project. I left the magazine to do that.
That book was published as “Radical Equations, Math Literacy and Civil Rights.” I
have since had published “On the Road to Freedom: A Guided Tour of the Civil
Rights Trail,” and was a co-editor of “No Easy Victories: American Activists and
African Liberation Movements, 1950-2000.”
You could say I’ve come full circle – reinventing myself has meant being true to
myself – to the best in myself. Of course, that’s always risky.
I imagine my reinvention began on March 10, 1997, the day the new editor of
the investigatory and projects desk at the Washington Post told me that I would no
longer be allowed to engage in the months-long and, in some cases, years-long
ethnographic investigatory projects I had been doing since 1984.
A week or so later, I was in Los Angeles doing reporting for the young male killers
series when an international relations professor at the University of Southern
California, a friend who knew I was in discussions with Duke and the University of
Illinois, asked me to have lunch with Geoffrey Cowan, dean of USC’s Annenberg
School for Communication, about coming to USC.
In September and October 1997, I made extensive visits to three campuses, giving
lectures and being verbally picked over by their faculty. By November, I had three
offers: Professor of the Practice at Duke and tenured full professor at the
University of Illinois and USC. Duke’s offer of Professor of the Practice involved a
five-year renewable contract, which was of little interest. In the first week of
December, I chose the University of Illinois for financial and personal reasons.
While the salary offers from the University of Illinois and USC were about the
same, the cost of living in Urbana-Champaign was substantially lower than the cost
of living in Los Angeles. Also, my youngest daughter, who was scheduled to
graduate from high school in June 1998, would be coming with me. She is a young
woman with cerebral palsy and the University of Illinois has the oldest and most
comprehensive support program for students with disabilities in higher education
in the country. She graduated in May 2005 with a Bachelor of Science degree in
Theatre Studies and lives independently today as a result of the university’s
program.
I have done it more than once and I’m willing to do it again. I was forced to
reinvent myself when pushed from The Wall Street Journal in 1997. At the time, I
had been in newspapers my entire professional life and at the Journal for 13 years.
In the beginning, I think my fears got in the way of effective planning, but I
eventually used my journalism skills to develop new roles as a journalistic
consultant. That meant I edited a newsletter and magazine for a national non-profit
organization. I also conducted professional journalism training seminars. And I
continued teaching journalism at Howard University, as I had done for years.
In 2001, I moved from being a consultant to working full time for a think tank,
while continuing to conduct training seminars, write political columns and provide
commentaries and news analyses for NPR. At the think tank, I edited a monthly
magazine and made it more of a journalistic organ than it had been. While I printed
articles from the staff scholars and researchers, I also used news services and
freelance reporters. I put my mark on the magazine.
That experience led to another reinvention, this time as an editor for the
Washington Post.
The Post needed an editor for The District Extra, a weekly section that covers
community news. More than one person asked why someone with my background
– a former Washington and foreign correspondent for the Wall Street Journal,
covering national and international news, including Jesse Jackson’s and Nelson
Mandela’s presidential campaigns – would be interested in a relatively low-status
position at the high-powered Post. There were two reasons – I really wanted to get
back into newspapers and I enjoy being able to put my stamp on a project. Editing
The District Extra allowed me to do both. I considered The Extra my baby. I
nurtured it and demanded that reporters treat its copy with the same respect they
had for copy submitted to other sections of the newspaper. Also important was self-
confidence that sustained me even when others had questions.
Now, since the summer of 2008, I’ve reinvented myself again as a Post columnist,
covering federal employee and workplace issues, a key subject area for the top
newspaper in the nation’s capital. It’s a lot of pressure to write four days a week,
twice as often as many columnists, but I love it.
I have forgotten more stories than I’ve told, been to more places than I remember,
all thanks to a thirst for truth, a desire to tell a story and a need to effect change.
The first plane had already crashed into the center’s north tower. After the fire
trucks crossed our path, we were encouraged to continue on. No one quite knew
what was going on or the danger we faced as we approached the buildings.
I heard the roar of the low-flying jet moving overhead and watched it as it burst
into a ball of fire upon impacting the south tower. Instinctively, I hit the ground and
shielded my face from debris still falling from the crash of the first plane. I reached
in my bag for a cheap digital camera I carried, held it above my head and snapped,
never looking into the viewfinder or setting the exposure for a perfect shot.
What happened next changed my life and the road I chose to follow.
After picking myself off the ground, I ran away from what was arguably the
biggest story of the century. I didn’t run for my life or run out of fear. I ran because
I am a mother and I couldn’t bear the thought that my boys would have even a
moment of panic about my whereabouts and safety.
For me, it was confirmation that the profession I so dearly loved had run its course
and while I remain fiercely proud of the years I spent as a broadcast journalist, I
now focus my energies, my passions and skills in telling the stories of those
institutions and people who truly make a difference in the world we live.
When I get together with some of my former NBC colleagues, we sit for hours and
tell our “war stories,” recalling the excitement but admitting the toll it took on us
and our families.
My children are almost grown and, thankfully, I have grown with them.
Almost a decade after the Sept. 11 attacks, I am grateful that I ran towards a life of
service and found a different yet equally profound calling.
Like most of the changes in my long career, leaving the New York Times for
the University of Alabama was seamless, an anticipated continuum. Similar to past
moves, it simply seemed too easy. I had reached a point of no return at the Times,
with no more real promotions in my future. And, despite excellent and sincere
choices presented me to prevent my departure, I felt that I should move on.
Perhaps, I had been spoiled by my former longtime editor, David Jones. Twice
during my 23 years at the paper I was tempted to quit, both by the possibility of
joining the Washington Post. Jones, the national editor, reminded me that the Times
needed me more than I needed it, thus, I was too valuable for the Times to lose.
Abe Rosenthal, the executive editor, later chided, “You’re at No. 1. Why would
you go to No. 2?” Abe also added a few bucks to my paycheck.
I’m sure he was shocked when, all of a sudden, I began talking seriously about the
job or half seriously. He met my salary demand and came back with a yea on one
final point, tenure. Even then, with everything in place, it was extremely difficult
to walk away from 23 years. My closest friends and colleagues thought I was
joking: “Give up the good life in New York City for ...” they could hardly say it,
“Tusca-whoooo?” Several friends broke into tears. I felt terrible.
Max Frankel, Abe’s successor as executive editor, put this note on the newsroom
bulletin board, after he saw an Associated Press story headlined, “University of
Alabama Names Journalism Chief:” “Friends, my first reaction to this AP story this
noon was to issue a denial, an expression of my strong desire that this long-
brewing appointment would not after all take Paul from our ranks. I had the good
fortune to be the Times editor who hired Paul and I have been personally as well as
institutionally blessed by his unflagging service to us all. He has been a fine
correspondent and editor, a wise counselor and leader, a brave and generous friend.
I can understand the challenge that beckons in Tuscaloosa, but Paul will always
remain with us and he promises to steer his most promising students only to us.”
There may not be life on Mars, but there is after the Times. I was at Alabama for
only three years but have maintained relations with many former students and
others on campus. I still receive wedding announcements from them. I joined some
friends in Baltimore in trying to start a national black weekly newspaper, an effort
that failed for lack of adequate support. Subsequently, I wrote editorials for the
Baltimore Sun. I also was on the board of directors of National Public Radio, and
still serve on the selection committee of the Kaiser Media Fellowships in Health.
I tried starting a Center for the Study of Race and Media at Howard University,
then joined another group of friends who founded the Gene Media Forum that
sponsored seminars for journalists on the hot topic of genetics, however, another
failed venture due to lack of funding. Talk about a checkered past. But, obviously,
my makeover centered on most things journalism.
I don’t know if you can say I reinvented myself since leaving television. My
background and education had always been in business. As general manager of
WLBT-TV in Jackson, Mississippi, my journalism amounted to writing and
delivering editorials on air.
The original owners had lost their license to operate the television station for overt
racism in their programming. The interim group was interracial and believed a
station’s employment could reflect the makeup of the city and could operate in the
public interest.
After 12 years managing WLBT, a new group bought the station and brought in its
own management team. I left WLBT knowing it had the top ratings, revenue and
employee morale of any station in the state. We were the state’s first station to win
a Peabody award (I am most proud that it came from an idea I suggested to the
news department). We were the South’s first station with a black male and white
female as evening newscast anchors. (I overruled some of my managers who did
not believe Jackson was ready for it.) A competing station in Jackson, WJTV-TV,
hired me to manage it. I stayed there for eight years until a new group bought the
station and brought in their management team. (Seems like a broken record).
While at WLBT and WJTV, I had dabbled in local and state politics, supporting
and backing candidates for office. As a young man I had admired J. Raymond
Jones, the first black head of Tammany Hall and the Democratic Party in New York
City. He worked behind the scenes in getting people elected and controlling New
York politics. While I never hoped to attain the power and influence he had, I did
want to work behind the scenes in getting candidates, especially black candidates,
elected. Consequently, upon leaving the television business, I started an advertising
and public relations company, Kerimax Communications, with a specialty in
political strategy. I have done and continue to do political strategy for
Congressman Bennie Thompson of Mississippi. I planned the strategy for Harvey
Johnson Jr., who became Jackson’s first African-American mayor, and have
worked on the campaigns of numerous state and local elected officials here in
Mississippi. I am the only minority political strategist in the state recognized by the
Democratic National Committee.
My 29 years at The Denver Post were all about transition and reinvention.
I walked into the newsroom Aug. 31, 1972, as the first black woman hired by a
major Colorado newspaper. I started in the features department, which had hardly
evolved from being the women’s pages. After a couple of months of accepting
assignments, I proposed one of my own: Black women’s take on the Women’s
Liberation Movement. I got all the space I needed for the comments and photos of
about a dozen well-known women from Denver’s African-American community.
Ask for what you want: The worst anyone can tell you is “no.”
Tiring of newsroom politics, I asked to return to features. Turns out the real fun,
the all-expense travel and excitement lay in the entertainment department.
Position yourself: That transfer put me in line for what I really wanted, theater
critic, a post I had unsuccessfully applied for a few years before. In addition to my
entertainment assignments, I volunteered to back the current critic. When he
decided to go to law school, there I was with not only my M.A. in Theater from the
University of California at Santa Barbara, but a substantial collection of theater
clips. For the next 11 years, I was the theater critic and a Sunday columnist
covering local, national and international productions.
Reach out: Over the years I encouraged African-American journalism students and
was active in the Colorado Association of Black Journalists, which awards
thousands of dollars in scholarships annually. I taught two summer stints in the
Institute for Journalism Education at U.C. Berkeley, now renamed The Maynard
Institute, the same program that helped me launch my own career when it was
based at the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism.
Learn and experience all you can: Working at a daily newspaper is the equivalent
of a paid education. I enjoyed parties at the White House and at the penitentiary. I
observed autopsies and surgeries, rode with police and rescue workers, interviewed
a president, other politicians, fashion designers, physicians, actors, directors,
visiting royalty and other newsmakers. I received appealing job offers along the
way, most notably from the New York Times and Los Angeles Times – but I
proved I could transition and reinvent myself where I was.
My next career change was more my own doing. Fascinated by the power of
words, I became a propagandist for America. From the American Embassy in Paris
as an officer in the U.S. Information Service, it was my job to “tell America’s story
abroad” by using the electronic and printed press, personal appearances and
exchange programs. In telling America’s story, I began to participate in the
After leaving France for New York City, I became a Pan-Africanist activist and
American representative for the African-owned, London-based Africa Journal Ltd.
Africa Journal published Africa Magazine, Africa Woman and the encyclopedic
1,300-page, three-volume Know Africa. Connecting Africans with America was
my goal. The natural alliances between blacks in Africa and the diaspora were
largely perceived, but unexploited. Africa Journal sought to tell our stories directly,
not filtered through someone who didn’t look like us or share our interests.
Finally, after a brief tour as a legal assistant for New York Attorney General Robert
Abrams, I became a state-certified general real estate appraiser. I tell folks what
their property is worth for a living. Meanwhile, I am working on my next re-
invention, namely my own 20-year plan to become a producer of programs for our
own global satellite and cable channels. Financed by real estate revenue, we will
produce and broadcast multilingual programs promoting non-exportable jobs in the
travel and real estate industries. I want to create savings and jobs that cannot be
exported, but expertise that can be.
I learned very quickly that reinventing yourself does not always mean moving
into a new career or going back to school to get another degree. As vice president
for newsroom operations, my job is to combine into one staff the production and
visual staffs of two newspapers – the Philadelphia Inquirer and the Philadelphia
Daily News. The combined staff produces one broadsheet and one tabloid with two
very unique voices. There was no blueprint to follow. For me, reinventing has
meant figuring out how to get the best out of a shrinking and less diverse staff
every day. It meant keeping morale up when all everyone could see was dwindling
resources. And I had to move from the state of being a survivor after buyouts and
layoffs to a state of thriving and stretching resources to get the job done each day.
As staffs shrunk over the last few years, it was easy to focus on what we no longer
have and bemoan how difficult it is to get anything done. But if I was going to
Re-prioritize: What’s the most important thing you must accomplish each day?
Each week? Each month? Each quarter? What do you want the outcome to be?
What will it take to accomplish it? What tasks can you eliminate?
Learn something new: Learning always re-energizes me. Taking time to talk with
colleagues about how they work and seeing if it ties into what you are trying to
accomplish can be very beneficial. Take a short course in a related area. I also set
up brown-bag sessions so staffers could share their expertise.
Be open to new ideas: All media companies are looking for ways to generate
revenue. Consider ideas from advertising or circulation on ways to attract more
readers and make money. Is there a way for the idea to still hold up
journalistically? Sometimes it’s looking at a slightly different design of the page or
considering which ad adjacency should run before or after a specific ad.
Stop trying to do it all by yourself: Everyone has absorbed the work of several
people who have left over the years. And some days it can be overwhelming. I
have learned to ask for help and seek out suggestions on ways to do something
better or more efficiently. Remember to reprioritize.
Do fewer meetings: I make better use of the company’s e-mail system. I try to
have efficient meetings where decisions are reached and goals are set. I do not
meet just to have a meeting. I also do smaller group meetings which usually last
half the time. Those who attend are asked to pass on information to their staffs.
Reach out more: I had to get to know more people I had not worked with and
build new alliances that are critical to building our changing business model.
Have fun: Reinventing yourself is hard. But I still love being a journalist. And
most days I can still find a reason to smile and take pride in what we do.
Almost from the start of my 43-year journalism career, I have been reinventing
my newsroom’s culture even as I adapted to the industry’s constant changes. My
career began in 1962, when I started at the Philadelphia Inquirer as a copy boy.
From then on, few things and events have caused me to rethink my career goals.
Some of the challenges I’ve encountered have, as President Obama recently stated,
caused me to “recalibrate” my views and values. I have been, at times, provoked to
anger and disgust. Yet these incidents or challenges to my humanity have been but
minor annoyances that have caused me to smile and laugh at their absurdity.
My first challenges happened during my first days at the Inquirer. The old
newsroom was filled with more than 100 middle-aged, angry white men. There
were no women there. In those days, when six editions of the paper were published
every night, newspapers were still trying to maintain the element of immediacy
Some of the newsroom’s old white males, when they needed news copy to be
moved from one desk to another, addressed the black news aides by shouting
“Boy!” One day, a copy chief angrily tried that with me. I walked away. “God
dammit, boy,” he yelled. “Don’t you hear me talking to you?” I simply moved
copy at another desk. Later, after his anger had subsided, I said to him, so only he
and I could hear: “I will never respond to you or anyone else who calls me ‘boy.’ ...
It is a classic racist insult to refer to a black man as a boy. I will respond if you call
me by my name, Acel, or yell ‘copy!’ But if you continue to insist on calling me
‘boy,’ you and I will have to talk about that this evening after we get off work.”
Another black copy aide said to me, “I would have told him that I would kick his
ass.” I knew better. “If I had done that I would be an ex-copy aide,” I told him.
The result of my taking that stand, and expressing controlled anger, was that the
copy chief apologized and later shared this story with other copy chiefs. I never
again heard anyone in the newsroom use the word “boy” when calling for copy. I
used that controlled anger to create change, urging the paper to stop using the word
Negro and to refrain from using racial terms when describing blacks. I was invited
to join the paper’s style committee, which barred using “negro or colored” in favor
of “black” and prohibited the use of racial terms except when relevant.
The weak economy and the decline of newspapers have left far fewer blacks and
other minorities in newsrooms. Life is a challenge. It is my hope that amid these
changes we maintain the values that have made the Fourth Estate a key to our
democracy and the fundamental belief that all men are created equal.
Yours truly was news director at WMPP Radio near Gary, Indiana, during the
Michael Jackson invention. I saw some of the developments close up.
It took me quite awhile to understand what happened. I had been hired by the new
general manager at one of the five black-owned radio stations in America. What I
didn’t know about the job, my first full-time on-air assignment, was that the
station’s ownership was locked in a court battle. And, as it turned out, the general
manager, who had promised he and I were made for progress, wasn’t a member of
the winning team. The new owner came to the station just hours after the judge
made his decision and fired the general manager. While that news rumored around
the studio, the new owner lined another six of us around the studio wall and
unceremoniously fired us by pointing a finger.
I asked, “Why?”
Then one day, as I sat in a barbershop, another patron recognized me from one of
my on-stage performances. His comments attracted the attention of one of the
announcers from a local radio station in suburban Chicago. The announcer then
said I should use his name as I applied for an actor’s voice needed for special
programs. From that, I was later offered a job as a talk-show host that lasted for
nearly 10 years.
However, this time, a new sales manager, while complimenting me on the success
of my phone-in talk show, insisted we should set up a shadow agency in my name,
allowing us both to double-dip on the ad sales. I said no. He was angry. And guess
what? He later became the station’s general manager and took revenge.
Again, the village took care of the child. Three weeks later, I got a call from NBC
News announcing I could start to work immediately. However, it was some years
later that NBN allowed me to host the launching of the New York Association of
Black Journalists from its Manhattan facilities for more than three years.
My story of how I reinvented Sheila Brooks goes back long before I decided to
become a journalist first, and then an entrepreneur – a story that made me who I
am and what I stand for today. I think back to the time growing up as a child during
the height of the 1960s civil rights movement. The child of a single parent, a
divorced mother who raised two girls from the ages of 2 and 1 in an impoverished
neighborhood in Kansas City, Missouri. Her journey would become my legacy.
All the adversity in my life during those turbulent times made me a more
determined, more independent person. It became clear to me early on that to
overcome the insurmountable odds of poverty, busing and rioting in our drug-
infested neighborhood, you must have a clear vision and purpose in life. You see, I
always knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. At 5 years old, I watched every
6 o’clock newscast, read the local newspaper and never passed up the chance to
In the wake of 9/11, the business climate for small businesses drastically changed –
meaning we had to change as well. We lost 60 percent of our business overnight.
To sustain quality business practices and thwart the competition, we hired a
marketing consultant, rewrote and implemented a new strategic business plan over
the next 13 months. The outcome: our revenues tripled, staff doubled and we won
long-term, multi-million-dollar federal government contracts. We rebranded
ourselves and became a full-service media and communications agency that helps
clients develop a brand identity that communicates a consistent message in ethnic
marketing campaigns, improving their corporation’s buying power.