Ellington

The media assaulted me this month, twice in one night to be precise.

The Soulshine room was abuzz with the huge crowd there for the first presidential debate, and I was sitting at the bar, enjoying a beer or two. The first offense occured when I was on my way to the bathroom. I was approached by a familiar-looking woman who turned out to be a local news anchor. Kindly enough, she inquired if she might ask me a question or two concerning the debate.

In this room full of people, I was flattered, initially, that she chose me. Amidst the commotion, I at first failed to notice the man behind her with the gigantic camera, that is until he stuck his glaringly bright camera in my face. It was too late to say "no" now, though; I was headed for the 10 o'clock news!

She posed some preliminary questions, such as, "Why are you here?" "What do you think so far?" "What issues would you like to hear discussed?" Not being an obvious fan of either candidate, I attempted to voice objectivity, making negative observations about both Kerry and Bush.

From the select excerpts later aired, though, I was clearly anti-Kerry, painted as red as fresh blood.

Onto offense No. 2: It must have been my 15 minutes that night. This time I was sitting at the bar, one more drink into the debate that I was barely watching, not being a good follower of closed captions. I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I discovered another reporter soliciting comments, this one from the print media. I engaged in the same sort of political banter as before, although by this point I was slightly apprehensive. Since I am not an avid reader of this particular newspaper, I was horrified to be informed the next day that my highly edited comments, along with my name, appeared under the line, "Still others support Bush."

Once again, the negative observations I made about Bush were discarded and the negative statements about Kerry emphasized. Yes, my family was very proud, but my character was clearly misrepresented that night. I was all over the news like a poster child for young Mississippi Republicans. Worse, I was called a "Bushie" all weekend by my friends.

In retrospect, I realize the importance of making my views more overtly apparent, but, for some reason, I expected more from the media. I have a fairly good idea as to why things turned out the way they did. In an overwhelmingly anti-Bush crowd that night, it would be next to impossible to find a person representing the other side of the political spectrum, and, in the media's guise of objectivity, they needed to "balance" the anti-Bush sentiments with negative comments about Kerry. If that meant altering the intent of an individual's statement to fashion an out-of-context quotation that suited their greater aim, what was stopping them? Evidently not ethics, which in my mind would mean striving to create an accurate depiction of an individual—not to mention the gathering—rather than maligning their views in mass production.

Since when did such a conflict arise between freedom of speech and freedom of the press? Sure, an individual has every right to voice his or her opinion, but clearly the media think they have every right to censor, or to shape, one's opinion however they see fit, especially to fit into their "objective" format. This is a widespread problem, happening left and right, and the credibility of the press is at stake. All it takes is an omission of a word or thought, and the entire meaning of a person's statements is altered. These journalists say they strive for objectivity, but practices like these are acts of interpretation, quite the opposite of objectivity. Because I experienced firsthand such unfair media practices, I now find it hard to trust storylines that assert an even division among the people. Maybe it was the people they chose to interview, or maybe, as in my case, it was the statements they chose to highlight without regard to the person's full statement.

An individual is not a tool to further a story, and journalists must show concern for the effects of their procedures on those that they interview.

Amelia Shaw is a recent Millsaps graduate who is trying to decide what to do with her life. Writing is a distinct possibility.

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