While I occupied PA…

It always feels good to go home. The familiar faces, sights, sounds, smells. And my favorite part, as always, is seeing my boyfriend: Philadelphia. It’s my longest relationship ever, and since we split in March, it’s been tough.

You may think I’m joking, but I write this in all seriousness. As a perpetually single girl, a city – and for me it’s always been Philly – gives you a small, shimmering ray of hope that it’s O.K. to be single and independent.

Hundreds of tents circle around City Hall in Philadelphia as part of the temporary homes as well as meeting places for working groups for Occupy Philly.

Walking on the uneven sidewalks of South Philly to catch up with some of my old coworkers and friends, I didn’t feel remotely alone. There were people around me, the distant noisy bustle of Center City and the squealing breaks of a SEPTA bus to comfort me.

When you get right down to it, Philly ignites me. While many people cringe at the thought of this particular city, citing the ongoing crime, ‘flash mobs’ and murders as reasons to not live or even visit the city, I embrace the good and the bad. It’s one of the few relationships I’ve been in where I’ve been oh so accepting. And the city and its people didn’t cease to amaze me with it’s dedication to Occupy Philly.

Hundreds of tents surrounded the historic City Hall when I came to visit Tuesday. Shortly after 7 p.m., a large group of over 100 people gathered for a general assembly meeting. I simply wandered around, snapping pictures with my friend, amazed at the size. One of the gentlemen we spoke to said that the population of those who stay overnight regularly is a 50/50 ratio of homeless and those truly camping for the movement.

This doesn’t surprise me. Prior to the Occupy movement gaining foothold in Philly, City Hall was always a sleeping haven for the many homeless people of the city. They would huddle on the cold, stone benches that made up the park surrounding the building. However, what did surprise me about this Occupy location was the groups they’d organized over the weeks.

As the Occupy Philly movement progresses, individuals have come up with different working groups to better organize themselves.

This can only be a sign of what was discussed in a fantastic article written Alan Greenblatt of NPR. While many people scoff this particular movement and how it can be successful, Greenblatt compared this movement with those of the past. They all started out seemingly unorganized and without a plan to attack the issues they’re voicing, but eventually that will come. Occupy Philly protesters forming ‘working groups’ within their city encampment can only be a sign of thinking about organizing and really discussing the issues. I wish I would have had more time to talk with some of these groups to learn more about them, but unfortunately I had very little time in the City of Brotherly Love.

Another impressive aspect of Occupy Philly was the small library the protesters had set up.

While libraries suffer budget cuts by the state because of the economy, this particular movement recognizes the importance of books and education to their cause and to the bettering of its protesters.

Protesters and visitors to the Occupy Philly location at City Hall can peruse a small library set up at the base of the historic building.

Among other aspects I found endearing were tents for education and arts, as well as a community outreach section.

However, right before I left the area I spoke with a protester concerning their contact with other protesters at different occupy locations. As far as he knew, they’d had no direct contact other than following them on Facebook and other social media outlets that many Occupy locations have seized upon. I’m hoping this is only a matter of time because I believe if this movement is to progress and organize in an effective way, the different occupy locations must begin dialogue with one another to bring cohesiveness to the movement.

All in all, the short time spent with my boo was, as always, inspiring and enlightening. There are still the interesting characters wandering the streets and the cab drivers who talk on their Bluetooths, completely disregarding the fact they have passengers. Thankfully, I haven’t lost my sass when in the city nor my angry Philly driver skills necessary to navigate the always backed up highways in and out of the area.

The humbling experience

Within the last week or so, I’ve had to cover several stories that were devastating. I’ve had to interview people who’ve had heart-wrenching stories to tell. Some of which brought me to tears.

When I finished my work-week up Saturday evening I was mentally drained. In one day I’d gone from reporting on coverage of a devastating home fire that occurred only a few blocks from where I live to the annual prom night events of the area. I’d gone from one extreme to the next within a few short hours, with a truly miracle interview in between.

My recent experiences, and quite honestly all of the experiences I’ve had since starting my new job, have been extremely humbling. It makes me appreciate the life that I have, and I think it’s a reality check that many people need these days.

There’s always the unending hymn that your life isn’t as bad as the next guy’s or gal’s, but it’s a saying that holds steadfast. And I encourage people to keep this in the forefront of their minds.

An ode to a publication dear to my <3

I want to digress from my usual posts, and take some time out to recognize an alternative weekly publication that never ceases to amaze me.

Philadelphia’s City Paper. While having some down time yesterday evening, I decided to peruse media outlets in and around the Utica area as well as check up on ones back home. It didn’t take me long to find stories that grabbed my attention with CP. I currently have my favorite cover story hanging up in my cubicle at work: “Coatesville is Burning” by Mike Newall and Doron Taussig. It was written in September 2009.

But yesterday evening’s jaunt through their archives allowed me to stumble upon two enlightening articles. They also inspired me to look into the topics covered in the articles to see if there was any correlation in Utica. The first was “Why is Harry Bennett Dead?” by Isaiah Thompson. As a city which is undoubtedly known for the strained relations between its citizens and its cops, this story took a different twist. How do cops handle the mentally ill?

So I took out my “idea notepad” and jotted down: check into stories about cops dealing with mentally ill. The Observer-Dispatch doesn’t cover suicides, as I’ve mentioned before, but I found it an interesting topic to explore especially after the suicide-by-cop incident. Furthermore, I’ve heard it said that the cops in the area are sometimes racist and prejudice, suspects arguing the reason they were arrested was because they were black and the cops have something against them. Stephen Patterson, the cabaret nightclub owner and former Utica public works commissioner, comes to mind.

The second article I came across which caught my eye was “How Was I Even Able To Do What I Did?” by Andrew Thompson (who I subsequently know, went to school with and wrote at The Temple News with—none of this is why I enjoyed the article, however). Gun trafficking. Where there are guns sold, there is inevitably illegal gun trafficking going on, this is the conclusion I came to after reading the article last night. With that being said, I again jotted in my “idea notepad” research guns in Utica area.

You might be thinking…why are you mimicking another publication? The simple fact is all ideas come from somewhere: what you see, what you hear, what you read, what you experience. From these quick blips in life an idea is formed. By simply seeing what is out there I can taylor my research to find my own unique story.

Furthermore, CP offers the type of stories I one day hope to be producing regularly. The hard-hitting “things that make you go hmm” topics. Ruffling feathers, and quite possibly pulling them out.

So consider this free publicity City Paper. You have unlimited access to my public of about five. Regardless, there is a Philly native trapped in snow-plagued areas of upstate New York still pouring over your captivating cover pieces.

Struggles with being the newbie

As many of you know, normally I welcome new and challenging obstacles. They’re like ‘a breakfast of champions’ of sorts; hot cereal with apples or strawberries, sprinkled with a bit of sugar because otherwise, let’s face it, it’d be pretty bland even WITH the fruit.

Adjusting, making a mark and everything else that comes with moving about 300 miles away from everything you know, cherish and have come to build extremely solid relationships with is never an easy task. As I mentioned in a previous post, it’s even more of a challenge in a small-town (I still refuse to call this location a city) where every body knows your name…well except for mine.

I thought people not knowing my name would be a perk. The bars that I had to avoid because of the people I didn’t want to run into? Never more. Alas, people not knowing my name equates to not getting the story.

Case in point. The shooting on April 9 on James and West streets. My name is on that forsaken article. The six or seven lines that fill up what can only be called a brief. I waited on the scene for about 30-45 minutes hoping to talk to the chief about the situation. What did I get? An officer who came over and told me the chief wouldn’t be releasing any information. The chief himself didn’t even bother to come over.

Once I got back to my car and started driving away, I had my regrets. It’s like when you get in a fight and are left speechless. I was never the quick one in a verbal draw. I normally come up with the good lines about 5-10 minutes after the fact. The same goes for this situation, only I was left wondering: Should I have gone over and at least introduced myself?

I don’t think there was a right answer this question. It could have gone either way. I could have walked over there, pardoned my interruption and introduced myself. It either would have been well-received, or not so much. I’m thinking the latter. I argued myself into thinking the latter. I assume the chief would have talked to me if he had the time…right?

Second case in point. Wednesday, April 13. I was scheduled to cover Spike Lee speaking at Hamilton College. No photographer had been assigned, so I was given the ever-daunting task of using an SLR camera to snap some decent photos to quickly send via Verizon wireless connection capabilities on a laptop given to me for the assignment. The catch? While I’d used an SLR before (I have one in my own possession) I’m not well-versed in the mechanics. The second catch? I also had to write a short article, which required paying attention to the speech itself.

While there are many different models, this gives you an idea of what an SLR camera is.

For those of you unfamiliar with SLR cameras, which I found some reporters even were unfamiliar with (which gave me a faint glimmer of hope that maybe I canbring something to the table), they’re a bit different from a regular point and shoot.

Long story short, I had several different issues with using the camera ranging from it not taking pictures at all to it not taking clear pictures. Then the Verizon wireless card wouldn’t connect (somehow I always seem to have issues with Verizon, no matter what the case). In the end, the photo editor had to come down and take the pictures, while I haphazardly wrote an article based off of the mid-to-tail-end of the speech.

While all the editors weren’t upset and reminded me it wasn’t my fault (there should have been a photographer there), it was my one chance to prove to the bigwigs that I could do something that required a bit more challenge than driving to a location and telling an editor what I see, i.e. house in flames on the corner of such-and-such street. This desire comes from deep within to prove that I can be something more than just the fall-back reporter for the articles that no one else wants to cover.

As the newbie, I am truly at the bottom rung of the ladder, and at times, barely able to hang on. Sometimes I wonder if someone will be stomping on my fingers in hopes of me falling off completely.

“I’m not a has-been, I’m a will be” ~ Lauren Bacall

I’m officially going on my fourth week at the Observer-Dispatch. They have since changed my times and days; I work the late shift now. And I still feel trapped by my own self-consciousness.

This self-consciousness stems from the fact that I haven’t been doing much writing. I knew this would be the case, somewhat, but I didn’t think I’d be doing crosswords and Sudoku in my spare time. If there isn’t any breaking news, it’s only rarely that I have an assignment that will be shoved into the bowels of the paper to fill the empty spaces. That should be expected, I know. I’m new; it’s my first job, yadda-yadda. However, I want to prove to myself as well as the editors that I can write, that I can report on bigger issues, more in-depth stories. I suppose I just have to bide my time.

I do have some ideas for stories. I also have ideas for the web portion, but since the web team still isn’t up and running full-throttle…my ideas are put on the backburner. The latest idea is a community spotlight of sorts. I was inspired with the idea after going to a St. Patty’s Day event at a senior center in New Hartford. I already have my first subject ready, and it would be the perfect activity to fill up the spare time I have between breaking news coverage. Community news is also something I’m very good at.

On the flip side, I’m actively searching for my own apartment. While the roommate situation isn’t a total flop, it’s the small things that get to me. What 30+ year-old sleeps with the light on? Has he seen the documentary Super Size Me? Just because you’re eating smaller portions at Burger King every day doesn’t mean it’s healthy. And why must I find empty Burger King cups hidden in the cabinets? And I don’t care what great things you’re doing in your classes, I’m not interested in being impressed (FYI, piecing clips of other movies and videos is not impressive to me).

I suppose I seem like a hater, well I am. When you work with the public all day every day, coming home to have to listen to more mindless chatter is just not conducive to a good roommate situation.

Did I mention he scoffed at V for Vendetta? In particular the part where Natalie Portman’s character kisses the mask of V. And the fact that he’s a douche to people. For example, we went out to breakfast at the diner across the street the other day, and he rudely was calling to the waitress while she’s talking to the table next to us. I HATE that.

These situations are only temporary, and let me reiterate the fact that I’m so happy to be where I’m in life right now. I have a job in my field. I shouldn’t be expecting more right off the bat, and I’m more than aware of this.

Things aren’t always as they seem…

Covering the story of the teen who called in a fake hijacking and proceeded to lead cops on a police chase, only to turn onto a dead-end road, point – what was later found to be – a pellet gun at officials and cause them to fire 10 rounds at him, leaves me speechless.

As the article states, two Canastota police shot the boy dead. He was only 17. I was on John Peet Road for several hours that day. It was steadily misting, the type of precipitation that makes you shake your fist at the sky and wish it would just downpour already. I was in the midst of several different news crews…television and paper. It was the most intense situation I’d ever been in.

A few us knew before it was said on the record that the car wasn’t stolen.

“Suicide-by-cop,” my editor had figured.

I never saw the 17-year-old being the man behind the elaborate plan. It leaves me questioning: where did he get the idea? Had he discussed, or left hints, to any family or friends? Did at any point he have doubts? There are so many ways that people commit suicide, why this particular method? Is he the youngest to have ever committed suicide by cop?

And then I thought about the family and kids who lived on the land where it happened. I’d spent a decent chunk of my time talking with the family. I met their cows, pigs and chickens. Did the parents learn of this and hide it from their kids? Maybe just for the younger girl.

I’ve already seen the motorcycle accident where the driver flew from his bike, but was lucky enough to survive with little harm. I’ve seen the destroyed sedan that hit a tractor-trailer killing the driver. I uncovered a gym teacher who sexually abused an elementary school student.

Normally, we don’t cover suicide, but this situation was clearly of a different breed. I’m almost certain this job is going to make me question people more than I already do. Wonder what others, what myself, can do. And question life in general.

“Always look on the brighter side of your life”

Day three of my new job and new life in Utica, New York has come and gone. Up until today things were going great. A simple mistake and misspelling of someone’s name has brought me down a bit. While I know it is nothing to let hang over my head, we all know that I’m far from the type of person to let mistakes come and go. I dwell…and so that is what I’m doing this very moment. And amidst my dwelling I keep thinking, do I have what it takes to succeed at this job?

I tend not to probe people for answers. I take what they say at face value, and I’m all too trusting of what they say. I asked a fellow writer about the challenge I seem to come across: people don’t want to say anything because of fear of saying the wrong thing. He said he doesn’t come across that…and if he did, he’d keep asking to get a unique answer. Perhaps my situation was unique though.

My concern comes from a short story I wrote on a rally that occurred a few blocks from the newsroom. They were rallying in support of union workers in Wisconsin. A few of the demonstrators that I approached didn’t want to comment. I simply went to the next person rather than probe those who refused. Perhaps that was the right approach for the situation at hand. When there are plenty of other people that could and would be willing to comment, why not take their quotes instead?

Despite this concern of mine as well as the recent screw up with the misspelled last name, I am thoroughly enjoying my new job. While it’s been low-key these first couple of days, I’m finally surrounded by people that understand why I’m passionate about journalism, who can relate and who generally have similar interests to mine. It’s easy to have an intelligent conversation with my coworkers because they’re finally what I would consider colleagues as well. Furthermore, I’m doing what I went to school for, and what I believe I’m meant to do. I’m sure my timidity will fade in time…and perhaps it’s evil Mandy lurking in the shadows of my mind putting these thoughts in my head. The same fellow writer said that he’d told a few of my now editors that “they better hire me” and that I “had a spark” he hasn’t seen in the newsroom for a few years.

All in all, I’m truly blessed…my Chinese fortune cookie fortune came true (and I still can’t get over that).

A Big Girl Job

So I’ve finally taken the plunge into adulthood. I’ve been hesitant to write about my sudden good fortune and life change over the sheer concern of failure.

A little over a week ago I was accepted a full-time web reporter position at the Observer-Dispatch in Utica, New York (UTICA BRANCH, WHA WHA! –humoring a few kids in my life). While it’s not the print position nor the international reporter position I dream of, it is a large step in the right direction.

This job will open up doors into the career field I’d almost given up on entirely. Of course, I might take this plunge and decide the waters aren’t for me, but the only way of truly knowing this is trying.

As it stands now, I believe my position will consist of a lot of breaking news, i.e. covering fires, accidents, police chases and the like. Definitely the most exciting job to date. The truth is though, I won’t know my exact duties until next week. Yep, that’s right, I start next Monday, March 14.

I’ve already found a place to live…for the time being. It’s with another working professional and student. He seems nice, a bit socially awkward, but the rent is super cheap. I’ll be paying $350/month for everything, including utilities. It’s a bit farther than where I’d like to be located…about 25-30 minutes from the newsroom, but nothing I haven’t handled before.

And so, in conclusion, I have one week to pack my belongings, settle my scores and begin a new life in Utica, NY. Not the ideal location, but everyone has to start somewhere. There is definitely an irony that I’m moving to a location that boasts triple digits in snowfall totals per year.

Fear no basis of religion

One of the aspects of Japan that I found so interesting was that religion does not dictate and affect their lives as much as it does in the United States. While a little over half of the Japanese population might identify themselves and Buddhist or Shinto, the country as a whole has a fairly low religiosity rate. According to a Gallup poll, it hovers at a low 29 compared to the United States at 61. The poll linked low religiosity to higher suicide rates, which, as I mentioned in my previous post, is very high in Japan. In fact it was second to Russia only, at 24.20 percent. Yet, while suicide might be high because of low religious commitment in some countries, other gallup polls show that there is more ‘perceived ethnic intolerance‘ and more ‘perceived intolerance to gays and lesbians.’ Let us not forget the constant war in the Middle East that is at least partially fueled by religion.

Religion has always been a struggle for me. I see how much intolerance it breeds. I don’t understand why a person needs to have a reason to do good things for others. Why they  must do it in the name of some god that may or may not exist. In Japan, not even the noted religions of the country, Buddhism and Shintoism, seem to breed intolerance. They instead reflect the harmony that is so emphasized in the country. I’m not about to give a lesson on either of these religions. Even after taking a course on Buddhism in college, I still know very little. I suggest reading up on them yourselves to get a better understanding of the conclusions I come to here in this blog. I’ve linked wiki to both religions to get you all started.

After visiting many shrines and temples I began to see how everything is linked; harmonized. Most shrines and temples are intertwined with nature. Set up high on a hill like the Kiyomizudera Temple or nestled back in the woods like Saijo Temple. While Kiyomizudera Temple is where I had the epiphany of a lifetime, it was Saijo Temple that really helped me understand how truly connected we are to everything around us. This temple, interspersed with several shrines throughout, has aspects of both Buddhism and Shinto.

Steps leading up to the main part of the temple

To make things easy, remember: Shinto=Shrine and Buddhist=Temple. Not only did this particular temple have multiple shrines to place your offerings in, but had paths that the young and old embarked on. After climbing down one less trodden path, I’d past an elderly couple in hiking boots carrying walking sticks. I couldn’t help but smile. A friend of mine even pointed out that this was what she imagined a temple being like.

Taking the steps up to the dirt paths within Saijo Temple

Here I am again in awe of the beauty and harmony that Japan continues to emphasize in everything, and I wonder, perhaps they have it right? At least when it comes to their religion. They do not seem to fear death nor wonder where they came from. They go about their day living in harmony. Yes, there are some things that could be adjusted to at least help with the suicide problem, but in the long run they do not need a deity to tell them to help their neighbors. They all work together because they recognize that each needs a helping hand. In many communities, neighbors are assigned different tasks each month and are expected to maintain roadways near their homes. They work together, which continues to show the group mentality. My experience living  in the neighborhood of Takadanobaba recognized this pride and diligence to maintain a clean roadway. I constantly saw locals sweeping their front stoops and around their general living vicinity.

The religions of Japan are not a precursor to being intolerant of others. They are not the primary dictators of whether a person does a good deed or helps a neighbor out. The temples and shrines are built harmonizing nature’s beauty rather than erected as a house of worship and dwelling. I’ve always had a fondness for the Buddhist religion. Its emphasis on harmony and the continuity of life; how we are all connected. I’ll leave you with some food for thought with the basic doctrines of this religion:

Four Noble Truths

1. Suffering exists
2. Suffering arises from attachment to desires
3. Suffering ceases when attachment to desire ceases
4. Freedom from suffering is possible by practicing the Eightfold Path

I think it is also interesting to look at what this particular religion finds as hindrances…

1. Sensuous lust
2. Aversion and ill will
3. Sloth and torpor (sluggish mind/laziness)
4. Restlessness and worry
5. Sceptical doubt

You can read this and more at http://www.buddhaweb.org/.

I can account for the accuracy of this particular source because I recall learning the things mentioned in my Buddhism class.

Furthermore, the metaphysical questions of how we came to be and where we come from do not come into play in Buddhism. They are not seen as leading to true knowledge.  They recognize only that there is spiritual benefits to practicing Buddhism, rather than emphasizing that it is ‘the truth’ which is so common in religions like Judaism and Christianity. These benefits become apparent as you practice the Eightfold Path.

They just live.

The Group Mentality

It’s been almost two weeks since I returned home to the land of the ‘free.’ I miss Japan so much that my only escape now are the books I read. Friends aren’t the same, and the way of living is what I remember, but not entirely what I want. After seeing the movie Avatar with my family for Christmas, it really got me thinking about the group mentality of Japan.

Emphasis on the group in Japan was something we talked extensively about in my Japanese Culture class this past semester. It is the foundation of the country, and I believe it is something that should be admired. Here, in the U.S.A., we pride ourselves on individuality. In Japan, straying from the accepted is ostracized, pointed out, shunned. It isn’t as cut-throat as I suppose it once was; there are clearly defined groups of people that stray from the norm simply by their dress, like Lolitas and Ganguro.

Lolita girls in Harajuku

Ganguro girls

Ganguro seem to be less common…I didn’t run into many. When I did, they were in Shibuya mostly. Meanwhile, I saw a lot of Lolitas from Harajuku and beyond.

Since being back in the States, I can see how this lack of group emphasis can be a setback. At first, I’d thought that the group emphasis in Japan destroyed individuality and living life…yet Tokyo is one of the safest cities in the world, and in general Japan has a low crime rate. Here in the U.S. we’re always at the top of the list for highest crime rate, etc. The flip side of this situation is the high suicide rate. On average, there are 90-100 suicides a day. The yearly rate has been over 30,000 for some time now. This is cause for concern. After talking with one of my Japanese friends, she expressed how her husband (she’s married with two young boys) works long hours, sometimes not getting home until midnight. On weekends, he’s so exhausted from his workweek he just wants to relax and doesn’t have time for the boys.

In the U.S., the average work day is 9-5PM. Seniority inevitably gives you access to better hours, more vacation time and more pay. I asked Masako if her husband would ever gain any such luxuries the longer he worked for the company. He will not. According to Nationmaster.com (which I will not say is or is not a reliable source), minimum vacation time for Japan is: “including sick leave: 18 days paid time off; officially, five weeks (in reaction to the karoshi problem).” Karoshi translated is “death by overwork” and is a growing problem in Japan. As you can see from the example I gave of Masako’s husband, the salaryman works long hours and sometimes commutes several hours a day (on very cramped trains–if you remember a previous post I made). These factors significantly affect the suicide rate. The saddest part is that since many suicides are done by jumping in front of trains and subways, in many subways they’ve built full glass barriers down the platform.

Since I came back, I struggle with what situation could possibly reap the most benefits. Japanese group mentality allowed them to prosper significantly and quickly after WWII, yet it might be part of a system that condemns many to an early, suicidal death. The U.S. prides itself on individuality, free-thought and free-will, encourages thinking ‘outside of the box,’ yet we kill one another at point blank range. Part of this I feel stems from such a diverse population; a clash of ideals. When you live in a country where everyone looks fairly the same, is taught the same behaviors from a young age, and values the same things in life, there is less clash of ideals. Regardless of the high suicide rate in Japan, there is something to be learned by the group mentality.

Can we transcend our own ways in the U.S.? I don’t know. We need enough people focusing on one another, realizing that before we ponder how we came to be (was it God? or did we evolve from apes?) and where we go when we die (Heaven or Hell? or do we just become part of the earth?), we must create harmony with those around us (and not just humans, but all living things around us–this is where Avatar came into play). We have to start somewhere, and home sounds like a good place to start. Perhaps this is too daunting a task for some to approach.

I think we can each do our part. Trying to understand other people is important. Trying to understand our history inevitably becomes important; realizing we are all linked. Seeing something outside of what we know. Experiencing things we wouldn’t normally experience. Being outside of our comfort zone. Helping those in need. Trying our best to do good everywhere we go and all that we do.