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Creating an image that has the capacity to change the world is truly a selfless act. The compelling factor in creating that image doesn’t come from the drive to gain awards or accolades – it comes from deep care and sensitivity to those that have allowed you access to the moment combined with the skill to know what to do with the tools you have at your disposal.

While serving as a Mass Communication Specialist in the Navy, I was exposed to many events that changed the world and profoundly impacted who I was in a short time. In 2013, I was 20 years old in Hong Kong on my first deployment aboard the USS George Washington (CVN 73) when we were recalled to the ship. We steamed toward the Philippines as Typhoon Hiyan made landfall and decimated the island of Guiuan.

I don’t think at the time I really understood what I was doing by volunteering to go into a disaster zone. I had never been to one, had never seen suffering of that magnitude, and simply did not understand the weight I would carry for several years after. I stood up and told my assistant public affairs officer, Lt. Derrick Ingle, that I would go and make him proud. The images I created there went far and wide and made me fall in love with photojournalism and its power to help those in need.

Reflecting on that moment, I now understand how important it is to trust your gut and intuition when faced with a decision—doing what you deem necessary for the circumstances. It forever changed how I looked at photographs—what they could do and who they could help. It would still take another ten years from that moment to build a framework around what I now know to be photojournalism and documentary photography, two very different but very important fields.

I have documented biker culture in America related to choppers for the last eight years and learned the main difference between journalism and documentary photography is a total and uncompromising immersion into a subject, subculture, issue or idea.

During my day job as a visual journalist with Gannett, I visit those I am photographing only a few times over days, weeks or months. Every job is different, every person has a certain comfort level, and every editor has a different vision for their paper. However, in documentary work, there are rarely deadlines, and you begin to shape your story and narrative as you revise, revisit and continue to dig for the story.

That is not to say that many of the same principles do not overlap and that papers do not take their time because that would be inherently false. There are, however, limitations with budgets, deadlines and the ever-evolving news cycle and industry that one must learn to adapt to.

Through the process of creating a body of work over many years, I have learned a lot about myself. Who I am and what I can endure could never have been learned solely in a sterile military environment. Since I was young, I’ve always been extremely hard-headed and will show you a yes if you tell me a no. That worked adversely against me many times while in uniform, but has also shown me great success as a civilian. The mindset of, “If I know this can be possible then it must be, no matter how often I am told no,” is one of the core tenets to success in one’s work.

I left the military in March of 2020 as the pandemic hit. The hardest thing about separating from the Navy was that I had to figure out what kind of life I wanted, not the one the Navy told me I had to have. I had to learn better interpersonal skills. I had to apply for jobs with a resume for the first time. I tried and failed at starting a business. The resilience I learned in the military and the documentary work I had been photographing for so long carried me through many lonely nights spent wondering if I had made the right decision to part ways with the US Navy. I know I made the right decision for myself. I could no longer continue to feel as if I was sacrificing my authenticity, honesty and voice; I simply felt as though it wasn’t right to stay in uniform.

I wish I had known in my first days out of the service that a whole community would be waiting to embrace me on the other side. There are many workshops to help you enhance your skills, the G.I. Bill to help you get into a journalism school, and some photographers believe in passing along the wealth of their knowledge to continue building growth in successive generations of this community.

I lost my dream job on a sunny Tuesday morning in February. 

I can’t say I didn’t see it coming. I was slowly removed from some corporate accounts, and my job had changed. I had gone from traveling to France to visit battlegrounds with WWII veterans and the Best Defense Foundation volunteers and tagging along in Kodiak, Alaska in Coast Guard members’ MH-60T Jayhawks to being assigned (and writing) less stories. I was losing enthusiasm.

Thus, the bad news came. I first saw my two editors taken out of the work communication channels. Then came my turn. The whole meeting only lasted a few minutes. I was asked if I had any questions, while my editor’s advice was ringing through my head: “Maintain professionalism.” Of course I’ve got questions, but none that’ll serve me here or offer me any solace. 

In tears, a little angry, and a little hurt, I was left to face the hard truth: it was time to move on.

I read an article that referred to something resembling my response as “threat mode.” It sounds most accurate for how I immediately went to job boards searching for a description most closely matching the dream job I was just relieved from. It’s got to be out there, I thought.

I had to purchase new equipment. My company requested mine back. So, I commenced removing the stickers, wiping my files, and undoing the past year I’ve lived out with these pieces of technology. That night took a lot out of me. (Also, no one told me about the blow dryer method on stickers until after I’d scraped them off!)

Now, I spend some days buried in my laptop just searching job boards, messing with my resume, applying to jobs, checking my email, and updating my LinkedIn. Other days I let myself soak up some sun on a local beach to clear my head and regain some hope that I’ll be ok. I’ve worked so hard to have a solid career that it really knocked me down when it all went downhill. But it’s just a job.

After it happened, I was informed that my former employer had set me up with a career coach to get me back into the workforce. It reminded me remarkably of how the military sent me back into the civilian world with their Soldier for Life – Transition Assistance Program. 

My instinct with this new resume and career path coach was to cry to her. But her job is not to be a therapist – instead, she is a coach meant to launch me into my new path. I recognized that and held in my grief for another time. She was here to help me look forward, not backward.

“Allow the road ahead of you to speak louder than the road behind you.” – Unknown.

A lot of people in my life are serving this purpose. They lived my whole past 18 months with me or through me. They don’t need me to tell them that I’m heartbroken or that it’s hard to make such a transition when you’d had such high hopes. No, they wanted to serve my future. They wanted to help me on my new adventure, and this was their opportunity to be a part of it.

I had so many people looking out for me. I had not been fired before, but I’d moved on to new jobs plenty. This time it was like I’d already set myself up. I had networked well over the past year and publicized my passion for my job. People reached out the second they heard the news, and I think that was the most helpful occurrence. 

I got phone calls. I ran into folks who’d seen my social media post about being let go, and texts poured in with resources to use in my search for my new path. Some of the most notable were a colleague from my first-ever journalism internship 12 years ago and the folks at Military Veterans in Journalism.

I knew back in the summer of 2011 during my internship and in 2021 when I came across MVJ that I had found my people. They have the same passions, goals, and ambitions. They’re climbing ladders alongside me and helping me prop up my own when I fall down.

Every step of this journey, whether employed or unemployed, my fellow journalists and others I built these professional relationships with have been on my side. I fully intend to keep my journalism colleagues and MVJ in my pocket no matter where this journey goes.

My advice, from experience, is to give yourself some grace in these times. I followed through on the vacations I planned, took plenty of time for self-care, and called on friends when I needed them. Grief is a salty mistress. It comes in waves, and while losing a job isn’t comparable to a physical loss, it put me into a grieving cycle that I’m still in.

I am lucky I have a little time to figure it out yet. Time is money, though, so I’m constantly looking, hoarding the pennies I’ve got, and searching for the way I’ll bring in my future paychecks. I’m making sure that way is what I want.

I’m searching for my dream job again. We all go through it. At least, that’s what I hear.

Journalism and the military are the only two careers I ever pursued that people just bluntly tried to talk me out of. When I told my mom I wanted to be a Marine she rented “Born on the Fourth of July” from Blockbuster and made me watch it. I enjoyed the film; it was much better than when I told friends I wanted to be a journalist and had to endure their lectures on the negative career outlook. I didn’t have an answer for them then, but I do now: Military Veterans in Journalism. 

We have a community of veterans and military spouses, 700 strong, who are pursuing and achieving their goals in journalism. We’re partnered with great news organizations, and supported by more than 300 volunteer mentors from across the news industry. We have a team of people who find innovative ways to advocate for us. Sara Feges, our operations manager, has turned our informal community of practice into a structured advocacy organization you can rely on. Devon Lancia, our partnerships director, fights heroically and tirelessly to show industry leaders the value we bring to newsrooms. The team they lead cares deeply about our diverse community, and they get results. 

MVJ officially became a nonprofit organization four years ago. This letter is to mark the occasion, and to try to express how grateful I feel to be a member of this group. The driving force behind our advocacy is a simple idea; veteran voices strengthen news reporting. But I get to see the flip-side of that – how news reporting strengthens veterans. I see how a journalism career, or a reporting gig, or even consistently writing posts on an upstart blog, restores the dignity of public service some veterans thought they had lost when they folded up their uniforms. 

I also see how many of us don’t have steady journalism work. Some of us work in other careers but joined MVJ because we feel some call to truth and storytelling within us. Even those of us with news careers that have exceeded our dreams still wonder sometimes, “Am I a journalist yet?” This career tests us a thousand ways, and I hope MVJ will always be here to help veterans face them together. 

Last year’s convention provided a space for about 80 members to discuss the issues affecting us in this strenuous, but rewarding career field. Our third annual convention this October will build on its success, but I hope we’ll have many more members in attendance at the opulent New York Athletic Club overlooking Central Park. The pandemic robbed us of the opportunity to connect in person, and we saw last year just how good it really feels to hang out with military veterans in journalism and the people who support them. This year we’ll prioritize the fight against unemployment and underemployment within our community, and we’ll demonstrate our members’ thought leadership to the biggest players in our industry.   

Thanks, MVJ friends, for your service – past and future. See you in New York.

Respectfully,
Russell Midori
MVJ President

My road to becoming a weekly columnist for the Beaufort Island Newspaper has been a long and often surprising adventure. From a high school storyteller, to an Army pilot who wrote dozens of professional articles, to writing proposals and every kind of business-related plan, I never thought of myself as a writer but rather a person who writes as an important part of my work.

In my career, I’ve written business plans, lesson plans, practical exercises, and dozens of other things required in the business and education fields. Yet I did not consider myself a career writer or even a good writer. After founding three successful small businesses and serving as a police officer, I began to believe that maybe I could eventually write something newsworthy, educational, and valuable for the public.

After five decades of working and writing, I slowly became aware that, even without a degree in journalism, I might be able to become a novelist, newspaper columnist, and a small publishing company owner. I retired in 2014 from the aerospace and defense industry and founded Tigers, Vikings, and Vipers Publishing LLC – the tiniest publishing firm in the world. I published my first military history and action novel, “Blades of Thunder (Book One)”, in 2014, and I have been a freelance weekly newspaper columnist for the Island News since 2020. My columns cover veterans’ benefits, leadership, law enforcement, hospice, end-of-life planning, and employment.

I have thirteen pieces of advice to share with other veterans seeking to become writers and journalists.

1. Follow your bliss.

I love to help other writers, but warn them that while advice is easy for anyone to give, it is much harder for the receiver to select what suggestions are worth remembering. The one piece of advice I feel is unquestionably good is for people to do what they enjoy doing, so long as they can also support themselves and others for whom they are responsible at the same time.  If writing is your bliss, then learn about writing – read, take courses in writing, read, practice writing, read, pursue writing, read, practice, read – and never give up.

2. Do not forget to meet your other obligations.

Writing is in competition with my family, my dog, exercising, my weekly columnist duties and deadlines with the Island News, my house chores, and my other tasks and responsibilities. It is so easy to justify not having time to write or market your writing. The bottom line is writers need to eat healthily, exercise, pay their rent, have medical insurance, have reliable transportation, and support their significant other if they have a spouse, partner, or children. So, until your writing generates enough income and security, you will probably need to hold other jobs to “get by” while working to become a successful journalist.

3. Be honest, ethical, kind, understanding, compassionate, accurate, and fair.

Journalists should never forget that their first obligation is to tell the truth. I try my best to seek reliable and accurate facts when I am writing. I also do my darndest to write in terms that can be fully understood and assessed by my audience. Being as transparent as possible about sources and methods is also essential in journalism. Maintaining allegiance to the audience and to the truth should not be forgotten.

Although it may not always be possible to avoid hurting feelings or publishing something that may prove to be less than totally accurate, I firmly believe that journalists must do their best to be as kind, compassionate, ethical, factual, understanding, and honest as possible. Journalists can accomplish much of this by being straightforward when presenting evidence, facts, and sources.

4. Avoid propaganda, advertising, fiction, sensationalism, and entertainment.

Journalism is storytelling with a constructive purpose, not fiction or advertising. Yet journalists are not free of bias. To counter their biases, journalists must strive to use objective methods, like consistent testing of information, in every part of their research. They must also represent interviews accurately, as interviews are essential in journalism.

5. Serve as a fearless and selfless independent monitor of power.

Remember that honest journalists are one of the best and perhaps the most important checks on those most powerful in society. In the USA, we journalists are what I call the fourth check on the powerful. The branches of our government and our citizens need a free press to keep evil in check. We are counted on to ensure those with the most power, be it of numbers, wealth, or other factors, are held accountable.

Journalists must serve as an honest and ethical watchdog over those whose power and position most affect citizens. We must be the trustworthy voice for (and to) everyone, especially the voiceless and weakest members of society.

6. Write about what you know – it’s easier (but not easy).

I find that writing about what you know about and are interested in is easier than covering other topics. For me, that’s writing about:

1. Leadership, military science, and my experience in Vietnam and Iran;
2. Helping veterans and their families;
3. Hospice and end-of-life planning;
4. Aeronautics and logistics;
5. Law enforcement and the challenging and often dangerous work police officers do;
6. Business Process Re-engineering and Lean Six Sigma; and
7. My childhood experiences growing up in rural South Carolina and the beautiful and historic city of Charleston.

7. Writing about what you do not know is not that hard.

Even with the above point, my advice is not to fear writing about things you don’t know. It only takes research, interviews, observations, and patience to write about subjects in which you are not an expert. A common saying in the industrial sector is, “Even people who know nothing about a process can observe the process and see things that others who work there every day cannot see.”

Honestly, I find out every time I write that I do not know enough about the subject, no matter what experience and credentials I possess before I start writing!

8. Write every day, at the same time, and turn off your cell phone.

Write in the morning while you are fresh and not tired or stressed. Use an outline (if you prefer) to plan your article. Make notes on the details and ideas you have when looking for ideas. Practice being courageous and exhibiting contagious enthusiasm for your work. Just start writing.

9. Do not think about your talent or capability.

Talent, skill, and capability will come with time. The most important part is to get started and keep your hands writing or typing. Use the five W’s of answering who, what, when, where, and why to help you develop your story.

10. Develop a journalist tool kit.

This kit might include a dictionary, a thesaurus, a notebook, and all the best articles and books on writing you can find and read.

11. Join professional writing organizations aligned with your interests.

Military Veterans in Journalism (MVJ), Military Writers Society of America (MWSA), American Society of Journalists and Authors (ASJA), Investigative Reporters and Editors (IRE), America Press Institute (API), Society of Environmental Journalists (SEJ), and others are a goldmine of helpful information, education opportunities, advice, grant opportunities, conventions, and more.

12. It is possible to make a living with writing.

You do not have to write a best-selling book to become a successful author, nor do you need to be a journalist for a large newspaper to make a living as a writer. There are almost limitless opportunities for journalists to supplement their income as a small-town newspaper contributor, a freelance writer, a proofreader, and any number of other jobs while they’re working toward making writing sustainable.

13. As a veteran, you can bring good things and a unique view to journalism.

About seven percent of the US population living today has served in the US Military. I believe veteran perspectives are important in each field of journalism because:

1. Veterans were taught to focus on attention to detail and journalistic writing demands details and facts. We are self-disciplined to follow proven processes and objective methods that lead to successful results.
2. Veterans believe that the past is our heritage, the present is our challenge, and the future is our responsibility.
3. The vast majority of veterans are honest, ethical, moral, and hard-working men and women who have been ambassadors of goodwill in each country where they were stationed.
4. Veterans bring a unique view of the world to journalism – a view based on both civilian and military education, vast amounts of training, frequent world travel, a pledge to selfless service, an oath of allegiance to the United States of America, and a broad view of the tragedy and insanity of war.
5. Veterans are among the only few Americans who have seen the challenges of starvation, illiteracy, rampant lawlessness, brutality and dishonesty, terrorism, and a myriad of other challenging circumstances.
6. Few citizens have seen the importance of our alliances and partnerships with other countries like our military members.
7. Veterans have worked alongside other government departments to provide disaster relief and uphold the national defense. Veterans have worked frequently with the Department of State, the Department of Homeland Security, the Department of Commerce, and many other parts of our federal and state governments.

The Bottom Line of My Experience, Observations, and Advice

Get as much education as you can in writing and English. Recognize you are not free from bias. Be transparent, fearless, and honest. Be selfless, enthusiastic, kind, compassionate, and empathetic in your writing. Write like crazy. Interview and ask all sides for their comments and observations. Do not just write about problems and failures, but also write about successes. Be a faithful and courageous watchdog and, finally, do not let self-interests compromise your work.

I first knew I wanted to be a journalist while studying at the Sorbonne in Paris.​ I began watching local news broadcasts nightly as a way to perfect my French. I took notice of how the reporters presented their stories, and most appreciated the stories that informed or helped people. It made me want to do the same.

Like many American expats before me, I fell in love with Europe. I found myself comparing the history, language, and culture to what I experienced in the United States. I thought maybe my love of travel and observation would make me a great fit for journalism.

I found myself drawn to great visual reporting and so I began to admire the work of great documentary producers like Ramita Navai, who shows such courage in covering hostile environments. I took notice when a documentary came across as authentic, like Anthony Bourdain’s travel films. Work like that filled me with grand dreams, and I imagined myself in David Scott Holloway’s shoes, shooting authentic visuals around the world.

Unfortunately my life’s goal of doing work like that has gone unfulfilled, and I eventually learned I would have to settle for whatever work I could get.

A back-to-work program got me my current position as a Mail Handler at the postal service, which, unlike news reporting, has preferential hiring for veterans. That ambition to work in journalism stayed with me though, and in my free time I started taking online courses to learn more about the field. I got a mentor through Military Veterans in Journalism and I signed up for “English for Journalism” with Coursera and “Newsroom Readiness” with Poynter.

I didn’t initially think about the postal service as a stepping stone into journalism, but as I learned more about the role of the fourth estate in my courses I realized both institutions, journalism and the postal service, have quite a lot in common.

The U.S. Postal Service has a mission “to bind the Nation together through the personal, educational, literary, and business correspondence of the people.” This mission, written into U.S. law and administered by the executive branch, is pretty similar to the functions of journalism that are meant to unite, inform, and empower the American people. With the country as polarized as it is today, binding the nation together is a worthy goal for both institutions.

Thinking about mail handling in this way helped me to take pride in my work, even if I saw it as a temporary career stop. I hope every journalist holds a service-oriented mindset as I do in my work as a Mail Handler. Recognizing the importance of service to journalism, I started to look for ways my day-to-day work could teach me more about the work I aspire to – news writing and journalistic photography.

Professor John Cotton at the University of Pennsylvania says there are five principles of ethical journalism: truth and accuracy, independence, fairness and impartiality, humanity, and accountability.

Truth and accuracy are fundamental to my work at USPS in Boston. Americans rely on us to get them their mail every day. I take pride in my work even when I’m only sorting mail – placing it in the correct postal packs and loading it onto trucks. Performing this work faithfully and accurately keeps Americans informed. My colleagues and I at the USPS hold ourselves and each other accountable and take missorting personally. It’s probably why the Post Office is consistently ranked as one of the “most trusted” federal offices by the public.

When that trust of the postal service is called into question – as it was by many during the 2020 elections, it becomes clear how important Cotton’s concept of “independence” is to the post office. When it comes to something like mail-in voter ballots, it is no exaggeration to say democracy itself depends on the post office to be free from outside interference.

Fairness and impartiality are probably adhered to more by the postal service than by the leading mass media outlets. The USPS doesn’t care if you’re rich or poor, well-educated or not, liberal or conservative, we treat your mail exactly the same. Maybe those people with Wall Street Journal subscriptions are the same people who pay a little extra for shipping insurance, but the service really tries to be affordable for everyone and treat them impartially. If you walk into your local post office wearing louboutins and holding a Gucci handbag, you’re still going to stand in line with everyone else and receive the same quality of customer service as the guy wearing Carhardts and holding a sheetrock saw.

Cotton’s journalistic concept of humanity is also one the USPS aspires to. As the former Postmaster General, Megan Brennan, said in reference to medication deliveries, “We’ve always been there for you, and we always will be.” Most folks have a closer and more cordial relationship with their mail carrier than they do with any journalist covering their area.

The USPS has been a cornerstone of American society throughout our history, and I am glad to have contributed to that legacy during this chapter of my life. I’m also grateful my work at the post office has relieved my housing insecurity and enabled me to pay off my student loans. I’ve drawn all the insights I could from these humble beginnings, and I am ready to take steps in a new direction. I plan to carry this perspective with me as I set out on a new career as a photojournalist.

I will freely admit I sometimes feel like a fraud. “Imposter syndrome” it’s called. I know I shouldn’t; I’ve fairly prospered in my civilian career since leaving my last active duty tour. But it’s hard not looking at some of the talented people working in the news media industry and wondering if I measure up. 

Last month I met some especially talented journalists when MVJ helped send me to the Poynter Institute to attend the “TV Power Reporting Academy,” and at the end of it I came to a few important realizations. Before going too far into that, I should probably give some context.

From 2016 to 2019, I was a photographer and videographer at the White House Communications Agency on an ADOS tour. It was a fantastic, if incredibly stressful job spanning two wildly different administrations. The experience was an honor and it was exciting, but it meant putting my civilian photojournalism career on hold. When the tour ended, I had a good friend who found me a job, ironically enough, as a civilian photojournalist and field editor working out of the White House briefing room. 

This was where that sense of being a fraud started seeping in: the weight of all that talent and experience working in that small, dingy-yet-illustrious briefing room bore down on me. I constantly felt like I didn’t belong there, and worried that if I wasn’t careful someone would catch on and see me for what I really was. But I plugged away, kept my head down, and kept shooting. 

When COVID hit, all but a few journalists were removed from the briefing room and I went back to New York City to cover the outbreak. Returning to being a full-time photojournalist in the city after so many years in another city was tough; many of my contacts and editors had moved on to other positions or left the business altogether. I was still an Air Force reservist with 4th Combat Camera Squadron, but on the civilian side it took me a while to get back into the groove. The Village Voice, who had been one of my main employers before I left for D.C. had completely gone out of business. It was like starting all over again, but with fewer publications and more competition. Still, it felt good to be back home making frames.

I also took this opportunity to return to school, majoring in Human Rights at Columbia University. I started paying more attention to the mil-vet community in the field of journalism. It was here that I connected with MVJ, and began making a concerted effort to take advantage of every opportunity they offered. This included portfolio reviews, meeting with mentors and connecting with other veterans within the news community. In February they put out a call for folks to apply to attend the TV Power Reporting Academy at the Poynter Institute. I threw my hat in the ring and became one of eight MVJ members to attend this intensive program focused on broadcast journalism storytelling.

The first day at the institute brought back that old nervous feeling of being the imposter in the room. Everyone there carried themselves with an air of experience and confidence, and the work they shared was wildly impressive. Of about 30 students, only eight came from a military background. The rest had been in the business for years, and it showed. But as everyone – military and non-military alike – began warming to each other and the walls started coming down, it slowly dawned on me: everyone in the room felt as undeserving as I did. Each had their own private doubts about whether they were good enough. 

Brendan Keefe, an investigative journalist and instructor at the Poynter Institute later described his own take with overcoming self doubt. 

“I also get imposter syndrome a lot when I’m teaching. I’m not that much older than my kid students, but … I’ve been doing it for a while now and feel more confident in teaching them the things that worked for me. But when I first started teaching I felt terrified. Did I have enough experience? Was I good enough to teach another generation?”

Kaitlin Newman, a Baltimore-based photojournalist, described her own struggles. 

“When it comes to imposter syndrome I don’t know a single one of us that doesn’t experience it one way or the other,” she said. “It’s a super saturated industry. Yesterday’s news was yesterday. I always feel like my work could be better, but then I see other people’s work and I feel like it’s not that good. I think it just comes with the industry [and] is part of the territory.”

My time at Poynter reinforced Newman’s position. The conference took place at Saint Petersburg, Florida, which was a nice change of pace from the lingering winter weather back in New York. Being able to bounce ideas and past work off colleagues and instructors with decades of experience and diverse points of view required a thick skin, but highlighting our flaws as well as our successes gave us clearer paths towards improvement. At one point in our small-group breakout sessions we were able to review past clips, and almost to a person these would begin with something along the lines of “so this may not be my best work.” Everyone had as much self doubt as I did, but even the harshest reviews gave us space for self-improvement. 

Understanding that everyone at the Institute had the same doubts but still pushed forward was one of the better lessons I took away from my time there. Sure, we went over technical and ethical concerns; we discussed the necessity for privacy in some stories and the requirements for breaking that privacy in others – but it was that doubt, and the way it fed into our competitiveness and our desire to be better than we are that really stayed with me. Doubt can cripple you if you let it, but it can also be one of the most important tools in your kit. More than a good lens or expensive camera, coming to grips with the doubt that we all have will make you a better journalist.

New York-based photojournalist and Army / Coast Guard veteran B.A. van Sise gave his own take, suggesting that self-doubt can be a tool for improvement. 

“Self confidence is deleterious to good work; if you don’t hate your own work, you will never improve. For me, it’s been this thing where I’ve published this first book I did, and asked myself ‘when am I ever going to make it.’ It’s common and natural, and the only way you grow as an artist and professional is by wondering where it can be better.”

Over the years, I’ve been a professor of organizational behavior, HR, and leadership and have worked for (and led) various organizations. I hope I serve with integrity and leave things a little better than I found them, as I am sure you do.

In each of the many roles I’ve played, I have had the great delight of having members of the military walk the path alongside me. They’ve come in all shapes and sizes and have been my colleagues, fellow students, students in my classrooms, and friends. I currently live in the Hampton Roads area of Virginia, which houses many active and retired military personnel. The conversations experienced during walks or overheard in even the limited social settings we enjoy today are humbling and comforting.

Two threads connect these marvelous and committed individuals: integrity and critical thinking, which are two skills I see as essential to strong leaders and the extraordinary journalist. I do not suggest that you pass up the opportunities presented by MVJ to hone your writing, interviewing, and other more technical trade skills. However, I want to emphasize that you have trained, lived with, and honed these two essential skills in military service.

When I was a business school faculty member, I found that students did not engage with critical issues facing our country, such as the 2019 impeachment hearings. In response, I developed a classroom-related exercise that required students to keep a six-week journal of news related to current events. The Harvey Weinstein case and the mentioned hearings were only two of many events that provided a breadth of content for them to use. What would you guess the overarching frustration with the project was? It was not the “excessive” amount of time or writing involved; instead, it was summed up succinctly by one student who asked, “How do we tell who is lying and who is not?”

We need the integrity and factuality of former military journalists – never has the phrase “now more than ever” been more applicable. In the few months since I began to ponder a future blog posting, the world has changed. It is ever-changing, of course, as we wait to see how the future plays out. We depend on fact-based and thoughtful reporting to guide us.

The wisdom and experience gained in military service becomes more poignant and apparent during times of war. We hang onto every word of advice that Retired General Barry McCaffery can offer because we know he has lived through this. Yet these skills are also palpable in reporting on other issues from former military journalists, such as Kelly Ramos and Kelly Kennedy. While military experience is not a necessary prerequisite for the profession, it brings to anyone who has engaged with veterans a sense of trust and comfort.

The tendrils of power have reached deep and caused divisions among us. These divisions led to explosive breakdowns in communication that most of us have never witnessed before. One faction tends to believe that the other does not want to listen or is propagating misinformation. It is interesting, however, that disinformation research has found people are indeed looking for the truth. Researcher William Dance says, “People engaging with false news stories are not disinterested in truth, but are hyper-concerned with it — especially the idea that it’s being hidden.”  The Canadian-British journalist Cory Doctorow states, “[We are] living through a crisis about how we know whether something is true.”

Trust and integrity lead to public confidence in information. Gallup polls have shown that confidence in the press has plummeted over the last fifty years since Watergate. It’s challenging, but not insurmountable. It takes time to develop trustworthiness, but being trustworthy is easy.  Tell the truth. Integrity breeds the desire for it.  Finding the truth is the challenge, and it takes no small amount of critical thinking to do this.

As Retired Army Sgt. Major Glen Morrell says: “Soldiers must possess integrity in order to build trust and confidence in themselves, our leadership, and the American public. Among the things I’ve learned during my career is that you must be honest with everyone about everything.” But what does that integrity look like? In my experience, it shines through when military veterans work in teams. Teamwork development, the deliberation and conceptualization that goes with focusing on the mission, and knowing the importance of ‘having each other’s back’ – these skills are learned and honed in service. At the end of the day, humans are social animals. We’d like to think we look out for each other. We’ve seen veterans do all these things and trust that “having our back” translates into truthful journalism.

Col. Nicole Malachowski, USAF (Ret.) is a combat veteran, the first female Thunderbird pilot, and a personal source of inspiration for me. She is a gifted inspirational speaker and reminds audiences that, “The power of your words to make or break somebody else’s dream [is] infinitely powerful.” Integrity and critical thought support that power. No multiple-choice tests or essays will measure the value these elements have brought to your character, nor how crucial they are for accurate and fact-based reporting.

You’ve got this! And you’ve got Military Veterans in Journalism supporting your work and giving you unique opportunities to thrive.

Diversity and disinformation were central to the conversation at the 2022 Knight Media Forum, an annual gathering on news trends and their impact that took place virtually Feb. 22-24.

The convention began with a panel on clarity and truth in reporting with award-winning journalists Nikole Hannah-Jones and Ta-Nehisi Coates.

The duo discussed the balance between power and news coverage. They believe too many newsrooms lack a skepticism of institutions, leading to what Hannah-Jones considers “lazy reporting.” Many reporters, she says, tend to report what they’re told by authorities instead of investigating all sides. This over-reliance on official sources leaves important stories untold.

Both Hannah-Jones and Coates agreed newsrooms should increase their skepticism to inform their communities better and that having more diverse voices is key.

Journalists from majority groups, Coates believes, are often ill-prepared to question the state’s relationship with the people. They lack the experiences of marginalized communities, who have faced systemic persecution in the past. Diversity in media isn’t performative – it’s important for gaining trust from these communities.

Attendees also heard from news executives on diversity initiatives and leadership in the industry. Versha Sharma, editor-in-chief of TeenVogue, said news executives should do some reporting of their own to keep in touch with what it’s like for reporters working under them.

“I think that idea of rolling your sleeves up and doing the work when you can carve out that time…is so important to being a more effective and efficient leader,” Sharma said. Working in the field is necessary to keep up with evolving trends in modern news, she added.

Kevin Merida, editor-in-chief of the Los Angeles Times, discussed the way he fosters diverse talent. He believes everyone has something to contribute to the newsroom and encourages approaching each hire to find and nurture their unique skills.

To build a stronger newsroom, Merida said, leaders have to stimulate a want to belong among their staff. Journalists should want to represent their newsrooms because they feel good about the work they do.

Rashida Jones, president of MSNBC, explained how each journalist’s unique experiences help in the newsroom.

Jones introduced NBCUniversal’s Fifty Percent Challenge Initiative, which sets a goal for the company to have 50 percent diverse staff and 50 percent women. Instead of forcing their newsrooms to diversify via a plan they had no say in, MSNBC’s leadership sought ideas from employees and enabled them to make a difference. “I think the fruit of [this initiative] is better coverage on all of our platforms because it’s better representative of the whole country,” Jones said.

Merida, Jones, and Sharma also covered the importance of mentorships. They encouraged attendees to seek mentors, regardless of where they were in their careers, and advised going to mentors with a career plan. The trio closed their panel by saying the news industry as a whole has to keep improving and pushing forward so the current progress doesn’t disappear.

One of the final panels of the event brought experts in health literature together to discuss disinformation during the COVID-19 pandemic. Dr. Rajiv Shav of the Rockefeller Foundation, Obama Administration Biodefense Appointee Dr. Daniel Fagbuyi, Dr. Katrine Wallace of the University of Illinois at Chicago, and Jennifer Paganelli of Real Chemistry talked about solutions for countering the spread of “fake news.”

Dr. Shav said disinformation reduces public willingness to act by using specific, often threatening messaging targeted at vulnerable groups. As a counter to this, the group recommended for journalists to identify and connect with messengers within communities – a priest, for instance – and give them the information they need to spread.

“You cannot communicate if you do not know your community inside and out,” Paganelli said.

The panel also suggested efficient use of social media and influencers as a possible solution, but with caveats. Each social media platform has a different demographic, so journalists and organizations must consider that when posting. And while bringing influencers on board is a good idea, they have to believe in what they’re pushing.

Dr. Wallace gives her advice for fighting disinformation on social media: “As long as you keep a standard, very simple conceptual method, you can spread that message across platforms and across age groups.”

By Bob Young
I was going through some photos the other day and found one from fifty years ago. A young Airman was seated behind a desk on a television studio set in the Republic of Vietnam announcing that two Americans were walking on the moon. We didn’t have live pictures available at the time, so some creative visuals were used to cover the live radio network broadcast. Our ingenuity made it work!

My twenty-six months with the American Forces Vietnam Network was my early education in television broadcasting. I started at the bottom, where the real learning begins, especially that lesson in understanding the human dynamics – the culture – of an organization. My introduction to military broadcasting had begun as a junior Airman working for a hard-core Marine Non-Commissioned Officer who reported to an Army Colonel; lots of cultural dynamics at work there!

It was at AFVN that I picked up the skills that enabled me to enjoy a civilian broadcast career that spanned twenty-six years. The detachment where I was first assigned was a small collection of men of varying backgrounds, who operated a television station out of a trailer – a TV station in a box! The beauty was that we all learned how to do each other’s jobs, both behind and in front of the camera.

The time you spend as a military journalist is an investment that easily translates into the civilian world. The knowledge you acquire, the practical skills you hone, the leadership you demonstrate are collectively invaluable assets in an industry crying out for talented and disciplined people who are personally and professionally prepared and eager to get to work.

No employer would pass on someone like a military journalist who has demonstrated time and again the initiative to creatively meet any challenge. I’m reminded of that spirit by a business friend of mine who would tell his customers: “The answer is ‘yes.’ Now, what is the question?”

There came a time in my civilian career when I actually was tasked with hiring people. From my own experience, I knew that veterans were my best recruits. They came prepared in attitude, desire, dependability and experience.

Even this late in my life I fondly recall my time as a military broadcaster, and for those years I remain grateful to the American taxpayer.

By Alex Quade, Reporter / Military Veterans in Journalism Board Member

As young journalists bootstrapping our way up the news ranks, our mentors are usually editors or executive producers. If you’re a journalist, what you’re about to read may come as a bit of a shock. My mentor was not in the news business. Far from it, though he made some news in his day. I’ve come to learn, it’s a good thing in our profession, to try to understand people — or groups of people — who despise you. And on the flip side, this may come as a shock to anyone reading this who happens to serve in the secretive world of Special Operations; a community with no great love for reporters, especially after the “Tailwind” story on CNN in the 1990s which eventually was rescinded. But I hope they will read the following; even though it’s from a purported “tree-hugging, Birkenstock-wearing, liberal-media-puke.”

As a lone, woman war reporter covering U.S. Special Operations forces on combat missions downrange, an unexpected mentor came into my life. This unlikeliest of sources hated reporters. Despite that, he “chose” me, treated me as an adopted SON, and taught me everything I need to know that matters.

Love him or hate him, everyone respected Medal of Honor recipient Col. Robert L. Howard (or “Mean ol’ Ranger Bob” as I liked to call him) for his bravery during five tours in Vietnam, mainly with the Studies and Observations Group.  He was one of the most decorated soldiers in U.S. history; nominated for the Medal of Honor three times.

Bob said many people in that community deserve medals for all the unheralded things they’ve done, which, due to their classified nature, lack of witnesses, nor write-ups, few Americans will ever know about.  He said he wore his Medal of Honor for each of them.

When I was with him, and his family, during his last weeks in hospital in Texas in 2009, he asked me to share a last “tasker” for each man or woman serving in Special Operations: “Continue the Mission.”

And he tasked me, too: “You must be tough as woodpecker lips,” Bob told me.  “You must do the thing you cannot do.  Whatever your fate may be… you make it happen along the way.”

He emailed advice almost every day, especially when I was downrange, as an embedded war reporter, covering “his” Green Berets on combat missions in Iraq and Afghanistan.  He was excited I was to spend time with “his” Rangers, too.  He encouraged me to make a difference through the war stories I do and said he admired my perseverance.

“Bob, I’m not a cheerleader for the military,” I said.

“Alex, truth in reporting is a virtue; without unnecessary exploitation of facts.  It’s about trust and honest sincerity. Military dependents resent the absence of their loved one and will turn to you for the rest of the story,” Bob replied.  Which is why he hassled me every day I was back stateside.

“Lady, are you up exercising your talents?” He’d email early in the morning. If I didn’t hit “send” to reply quick enough, it was, “Get your butt out and ruck-march!” You see, Bob expected me to follow his strict regimen:  Adding weight in a rucksack while picking up speed and increasing distance.  As a septuagenarian, he still got up at 4:30 every morning to do physical training. He could still walk 25 miles and carry a ruck, and he was not shy about saying, he had “No patience for fat people, women, or hurt feelings.”

“You must carry your own load at squad or fire team level,” he said. “But I’m scaring the socialites and their little dogs in Central Park,” I countered.  Bob didn’t care. His orders were clear:  “Don’t hold back the men downrange!”

He said he felt like he was “sending me off to face evil” every time I deployed. He told me to carry a copy of the Koran, adding, “Learn some basic Farsi and practice it on the locals.” And, since I have no patience, he admonished:  “Never be quick to take the next step without knowing where it leads you.”

“Seek out the good sergeants; you’ll know who they are. They’ll set you straight,” Bob advised.  “Keep your eyes up and your butt down,” he said. “Stay in the shadows.  Blonde hair makes a good target. If I can see you, I can kill you!”

He reiterated that fact one night in Landstuhl, Germany, before I headed back to Iraq and Afghanistan. One moment he was casually smoking a cigar, the next, he literally had my life in his hands. I’ll call it the “two-fingered, Vulcan death-grip” on the back of my neck, which brought me to my knees in an instant and made Medal of Honor recipients Staff Sergeant Drew Dix (5^th Special Forces Group) and Command Sergeant Major Gary Littrell (Ranger Battalion) smile.

“That’s what you need to know how to do,” he said, during his impromptu combative lesson.  But what I got out of that lesson was:  Damn!  He may look old, but never underestimate Bob Howard!

Bob must have known for a long time that he was fighting his last battle with the Grim Reaper.  And like all soldiers, did not want to die alone. “This’ll keep ya motivated!”  He said, shoving a Ziploc baggie at my chest. Inside was a bloody, nasty-looking piece of shrapnel freshly removed from near his frontal lobe just two weeks before. Just what every girl wants, right?

“It’s a real piece of North Vietnamese Army shrapnel fired from a 75-mm recoil-less rifle, that hit to the left front of me while I was firing at the enemy position, from a prone position, about 300 meters away,” Bob explained.  “They rushed to clamp the arteries and veins to keep me from bleeding to death and left the shrapnel in.  Had a headache for 42 years. First few days after removal recently, messed up my equilibrium.”

But the former member of Delta, the Green Berets and Ranger Battalion, who’d braved all the world’s hostile environments, was starting to feel the cold.  So I gave him my “Woobie,” the blanket I’d carried in Iraq and Afghanistan.  Sitting in his hospital room, in the wee hours, he told me, I was the one who looked cold; so he made me wear his beanie, that old, black, Ranger patrol-cap had never been washed in 25 years.  He said, just looking at it on my head, made him feel warm.

Looking for things to appreciate in tough situations is what helped Bob through. “Look for Orion’s Belt.  It is one of the most beautiful sights.  I’ve lain in place, concealed, looking up at it many times while in Vietnam through sporadic jungle canopy,” he quietly mused.

“This is no bullshit!”  Bob turned serious. “I challenge you to stay alert, stay safe, watch your back, and return home to share your stories and experiences with the public that need to be reminded,” he pointed his finger at me.

He asked me to tell all “his men”:  Always “Lead from the front,” because that’s what he did.  And:  “Charlie Mike,” or, “Continue the Mission”.  The last thing Bob said to me was, I “can kiss him in his coffin.”

Despite my belief that Mean ol’ Ranger Bob would take out the Grim Reaper with the pistol strapped to his calf, cancer took what the enemy never could.  Col. Robert L. Howard passed away the day before Christmas Eve, 2009. Every morning since then, I look at my email… half expecting a butt-kicking message from him from the grave. His lessons still sound off like a cadence to my footfalls when I go running:  “Charlie Mike… Continue the Mission… Charlie Mike…”

No, my fellow journalists… I did not drink the Kool-Aid.

Ranger Bob’s intestinal fortitude, which he was intent on passing along to me, before he passed away… his lessons have kept me alive in tough locations.  The lesson I’d like to pass along to YOU is:  Be open to learning from people you’d never expect, especially people who “hate reporters.”

Now, whenever meetings bring me to the “five-sided wind tunnel” on the Potomac (the Pentagon) I go visit Bob.  The birds at Arlington National Cemetery seem to target his headstone.  Bet that pisses him off, I think, touching his shrapnel hanging on a chain around my neck. But then I know, just like Clint Eastwood, he would have squinted-up his eyes, like he always did, laughed and grinned widely.

ALEX QUADE is a war reporter and documentary filmmaker, who’s covered U.S. Special Operations Forces on combat missions since 2007.  She’s the only reporter, male or female, ever embedded long-term with these elite, secretive units downrange on her own, with no crew or support.  The recipient of two national Edward R. Murrow Awards, Quade has produced videos and online reports for The New York Times, a front page story for The Washington Times, and has two documentaries in film festivals:  Horse Soldiers of 9/11, narrated by actor Gary Sinise, and Chinook Down, an investigation into the surface-to-air missile shoot-down of a U.S. helicopter in Afghanistan killing all on board. Quade was supposed to be on that helicopter. She survived to report firsthand on the fierce firefight and recovery efforts. Quade started her career as a White House intern during the Persian Gulf War. She’s worked in television covering global conflicts and hostile environments for CNN, Fox News, HLN, and CNN International out of Frankfurt, Germany and New York. Quade’s reporting from the Asian Tsunami was individually cited in CNN’s Columbia du-Pont Award and her war reports were part of group Peabody and Emmy awards. She attended Georgetown University’s Institute for Political & Ethical Journalism, and holds three degrees from the University of Washington. Quade serves on the Board of Military Reporters and Editors.

 

My first civilian job was an internship with a New York production company where I had hoped to become a professional videographer. My first assignment: sweeping up cigarette butts in front of the building. Sure, I was an old pro at field day duties, but hadn’t I paid my dues already? Hadn’t I been a sergeant of Marines just two months prior?

While 22-year-old workers in corporate America are scarcely trusted to work a copy machine, military service members of that age may make decisions that carry the weight of life and death. It can be quite a shock to start working for an organization that doesn’t seem to place any special trust and confidence in your abilities.

The values required for military service, like integrity and accountability, easily translate to journalism. Experience operating in a hierarchy and just plain getting things done can help you quickly ascend to a position with greater influence. But, in journalism, none of that will likely help you start anywhere but at the bottom. I had to learn to suck it up and pay my dues.

But then I ran into a financial problem. I hadn’t considered the numbers very thoughtfully, and I soon realized I simply couldn’t pay my New York rent with a $7 per hour internship. I had to quit that job and lose that opportunity to grow.

If you’re committed to working in journalism despite knowing you may need to take a low-wage, low-influence position, you should spend some time figuring out the finances. This may mean taking advantage of your Post-9/11 GI Bill. The housing allowance that accompanies the Post-9/11 GI Bill is a fantastic way to keep you on your feet while you make your mark in an entry-level job.

If you can only find an unpaid internship, you can also get six months of unemployment benefits when you first get out (which some states extend to a year). This may give you the time to build your credibility at an organization and in the industry so you can move up to a position more suited to your abilities.

None of this means you should stick with a company where you just plain won’t like working. Look around the room. Are there more senior people doing jobs you could see yourself enjoying? Do you have access to them to talk about how to carve your own path? Those questions should help you determine if an internship is right for you.

You might look at an entry-level job as a way to get a glimpse of the opportunities ahead of you. You’re evaluating the company and the industry as much as they are evaluating you. If you find journalism is for you and you land an internship at a place where you want to grow, then suck it up, pay your dues, find some mentors, and climb that ladder.