Top 20 Take Away Tips for Tweeting Journos*

1) Think before you tweet - you can't delete an indiscrete tweet!
2) Think carefully about what your RTing & acknowledge if it's unsubstantiated
3) Be an active twit: tweet daily if you want your followers to stick.
4) Determine your Twitter identity
5) Be human; be honest; be open; be active
6) Don't lock your account if you want to use Twitter for reporting purposes - this fosters distrust
7) Twitter is a community, not a one-way conversation or broadcast channel- actively engage
8) Check if your employer has a social media policy
9) Be cautious when tweeting about your employer/workplace/colleagues
10) Be a judicious follower - don't be stingy but avoid following everyone as your list grows.
11) If you quote a tweet, attribute it
12) Expect your competitors to steal your leads if you Tweet about them
13) Don't tweet while angry or drunk
14) Avoid racist, sexist, bigoted & otherwise offensive tweets and never abuse a follower
15) Scrutinise crowd-sourced stories closely
16) Find people to follow & foster followers by pilfering the lists of other 'twits'.
17) Twitter is a 'time vampire' (via @anne_brand) - you don't need to keep track of all tweets - dip in & out through the day.
18) Prevent information overload by using an application such as Tweetdeck
19) Set up your Internet-enabled mobile device so you can live-tweet on the road.
20) Value add your tweets with links, Twitpic and other applications for audio & video

As journalists become space invaders in the Twittersphere they're asking what are the rules of engagement for professional reporters on the platform? I've interviewed 25 Australian, South African and US journalist-tweeters as part of a research project on the issues arising out of the mainstream media's engagement with the micro-bogging platform.

One major theme to emerge has been journalists' desire for a quick reference guide to help them optimise their Twitter experience without compromising their professional and ethical standards.

So, I asked participating journos for their tips on being successful 'twits' and combined with my own experience this list of helpful hints is what emerged.

*This tips list first appeared on the PBS website Mediashiftfor which I've written a series on journalists and Twitter based on my research. You can read How Journalists are using Twitter in Australia here, How Journalists Balance Work, Personal Lives on Twitter here and Rules of Engagement for Journalists on Twitter here

   [read more]

An earlier version of this post first appeared @ the PBS website Mediashift, titled How Journalists Balance Work, Personal Lives on Twitter

Twitter is continuing to make headlines around the world as it amasses followers. But it's also making an impact on the newsmakers themselves. Journalists are invading the space at a rapid pace and learning to report live, crowdsource stories and engage with a whole new audience...in 140 characters or less.

It may not be revolutionary -- many journalists view the micro-blogging platform as just another tool in their kitbag -- but it is changing journalistic practice and raising important questions about ethics and professionalism. In fact, one of the key contemporary journalistic dilemmas -- how to define or redefine objectivity in the social media age -- is being played out live via tweets.

Part one of this investigation into tweeting journos was based on interviews with 25 journalists (mostly Australian) and informed by my own experience on the platform. In the aftermath of that article, I received many responses from journalists (and media outlets) via Twitter who also wanted to make a contribution. Their willingness to engage in debate on the issues and eagerness to participate in subsequent stories highlighted for me the significance and timeliness of this research, so I've decided to turn this two-part Mediashift series into a comprehensive trilogy.

In part two, I'll discuss the impact of Twitter on daily reporting and its challenges to traditional journalistic identity and professionalism as the private and the public spheres merge, further blurring the line between reporting and opinion.

Twitter's clash of the personal & the professional

In my view, while balance, fairness and accuracy remain important aspects of journalistic identity, definitions of objectivity that consider he said, she said news pieces to be the only valid form of journalism are narrow and anachronistic. Neither do I subscribe to the view that journalists should be didactic, colourless, un-opinionated, one-dimensional information processors.

But social media platforms encourage the merger of the private and public experiences of journalists and this is new territory for beings used to commenting on their subjects' lives rather than subjecting their own lives to scrutiny. As journalists, we now post pictures of intimate family moments on Facebook, we blog about tender and painful life experiences and respond to news posts with forceful opinions.

On Twitter -- a medium which is fleeting and frenetically paced -- we can find ourselves posting a link to a news story we've written one minute and writing a reflective Haiku poem or making a witty life observation the next...at least that's my modus operandi. (For a different approach, consider Jay Rosen's Twitter mind-casting.

Gen Robey, editor of Wotnews, says keeping the personal and professional separate is increasingly difficult when you're trying to maximise the benefits of communities like Twitter, noting that, "The overlapping of the personal and professional, and thus the emphasis on trust and meaningful relationships, is often what makes Twitter so powerful."

While this practice makes us human and much more appealing to our followers and mainstream audiences, there are professional consequences to consider.

So how do professional journalists manage the merger of the private and the public, the personal and the professional on Twitter? And how much of themselves and their opinions do they reveal in trying to build relationships with audiences and sources? Of the 25 reporters I interviewed, some choose to acknowledge both private and professional purposes of their Twitter accounts to establish dual identity. Others chose to tweet only "off-the-clock" or "on-the-clock" and a few ran separate Twitter accounts to accommodate both the private and the professional.

One Australian journalist who's been forced to reassess his use of Twitter as a public platform for his personal views is the Sydney Morning Herald's technology writer Asher Moses. Moses was recently outed by the irreverent online news magazine Crikey for sexist comments he made on his Twitter account about a woman who alleged she was sexually assaulted by a team of professional footballers.



Crikey mistakenly attributed other quotes, about an unrelated matter, from a fake account in Moses' name, to Moses and has since apologised for that sloppy work. But the quotes above were made by the real Asher Moses and he told me he regrets the offending tweets.

"Although I wrote the tweet in my own time on a personal Twitter account," he said. "I used two words that in hindsight were inappropriate, particularly considering I mainly used Twitter for work-related messages. I quickly deleted the post, but by then it was too late and within a day I had Crikey ...breathing down my neck. The tweet still appeared in Twitter search. It's sad in a way, but you really have to assume that whatever you write is going to be viewed by the whole world and you have to be prepared for people to link your personal views to your employer."

Ironically, Moses has report on a government communications worker who risked his job with comments he wrote on Twitter and his blog. And while Moses' job wasn't threatened by the incident, he has changed his tweeting habits as a result of the experience.

"Up until recently I used it for both tweeting links to my stories and engaging in discussions -- not always work-related," he said. "But I'm fast finding that even though I have viewed Twitter as a personal space for my personal thoughts and opinions, readers can interpret what I say as the official Fairfax (owners of the SMH) line, which creates all sorts of complications. So after recent events I've decided to use Twitter purely for work-related messages."

In the midst of the storm that followed Moses' questionable tweeting, Jason Whittaker who edits a stable of trade magazines for Australian Consolidated Press defended Moses' right as a journalist to tweet his opinions and indulge in news commentary without endorsing his views.

"Do journalists who use Twitter have to be mindful of being in the public domain and project the same perception of objectivity as they do on the clock as a journalist?" he asked. "Even if they're commenting on matters they have nothing to do with as a journalist? Are readers capable of making the distinction? Can't they accept that journos are not mindless drones and DO have opinions, but this doesn't mean they can't do the job as an objective observer when on the clock?"

Whittaker initially began tweeting anonymously as @thetowncrier but, after considering the clash of the two spheres, he has since included in his Twitter bio his real name and a link to a blog which identifies his employer.

"I was HIGHLY reluctant to put my opinions in a public space, but I made the decision that I had things I wanted to say and I was comfortable with the separation between work and personal," he said.

The ABC's Michael Turtle has a pragmatic approach to this Twitter dilemma.

"The basic rules... should be the same as when writing as a journalist," he said. "You don't want to express personal opinions on sensitive issues because, even if your reporting is completely impartial. You don't want to open yourself up to accusations of bias."

Sky News' John Bergin separates his private and work Twitter accounts in an effort to manage these dilemmas. He has this advice for balancing the personal and the professional: "Think carefully about what 'hat' you're wearing when you share personal opinions and political views -- is it clear to others that you are speaking on behalf of yourself, or your employer? If you express an opinion on a news story, think about how this will be construed if you are then required to report on 'the facts' of the same issue at a later date."

Considering Privacy & Personal Safety

There are other reasons for journalists to be cautious about what they reveal on Twitter, or any other open social media platform. In the same way journalists may choose to have unlisted home phone numbers and addresses for privacy reasons, tweeting reporters need to consider their personal safety.

"I'm careful not to reveal too much about exactly where I live, and I rarely tweet about my wife," said Dave Earley, a reporter with the Brisbane Courier Mail. "She hasn't chosen for any aspect of her private life to be revealed online, so I mainly try to keep Twitter about me, with occasional references to family."



Leigh Sales is one tweeting Australian journalist who has managed to blend the personal and professional very well -- maintaining her credibility as the anchor of a respected ABC nightly news program while endearing herself to her audience by revealing a multi-dimensional character. She does this by largely restricting her tweets to news- or issues-oriented subject matter but employing wit and humour as short storytelling devices. What results is a very effective blend of serious observations with a news stand-up routine -- Twiticism. And humour is a humanising quality which Sales says helps "make the medicine go down" -- the medicine being the serious news she's tweeting about or linking to.

"If you can be interesting and engaging, then people will follow you more readily than if you're dry," she said. "If you're those things, people RT you or recommend you to their friends."

How is Twitter Changing Journalism

Twitter is both a venue for discussion about the future of journalism and a feature of the discussion. Some see it as a symptom of the demise of the fourth estate, others see it as part of the plan for professional journalism's salvation in an age of rapid technological, economic and industrial change. It's certainly one way to merge news dissemination and increasingly necessary audience engagement. It's also a natural online home for inherently inquisitive and dialogue-oriented journalists like Caroline Overington, a writer with Rupert Murdoch's national daily The Australian.

"I find Twitter to be a more friendly media site than the blogs, which tend to be full of bile," she said. "That may be because it's real people. It's a kind spot on the web."

At a practical level, Twitter is changing how journalism is practiced. Tweeting is fast becoming necessary for journalists and even compulsory in some news organisations. Some journalists interviewed highlighted the ability of ‘retweets’ (RTs) – the practice of citing and re-distributing a tweet – to indicate the appeal of a story to a particular audience and guide the extent of coverage an issue gets, similar to the effect of talkback radio and news focus groups. And a few talked about Twitter’s ability to make news-gathering processes more transparent through journalists publicly processing reporting techniques and practices in real time. But the role of Twitter in breaking news was most frequently mentioned.

Breaking News on Twitter - Headlines on Speed

And it's not just a platform to cover already-broken news in easily digestible bites. It's also emerging as a zone in which to break news, as I highlighted in part one of this series.

An ABC case study neatly illustrates these points in the Australian context. Wildfires and an earth tremor near Melbourne, storms in Brisbane and a widespread blackout in Sydney put Twitter to the test this year as a breaking news device.



In early February, when Australia's deadliest ever bushfires raged around Victoria (they would ultimately claim 173 lives), Wolf Cocklin, a digital media developer with the ABC, shifted the network's Twitter accounts into high gear. As the ABC's Melbourne radio station commenced emergency 24 hour broadcasts, Mr Cocklin used the @774melbourne Twitter account to disseminate warnings and news alerts while monitoring the Twittersphere for eyewitness accounts and other information which could be checked and verified with officials before being broadcast.

"I never tweeted callers through to the radio station unless they were an attributable source," he said. This is a more strict approach than that adopted for talkback callers who are regularly put to air to describe their experiences and observations of disaster zones without their stories being properly checked. But Mr Cocklin says this approach may change as Twitter becomes more established as a feature of such broadcasts.

ABC Brisbane's Amanda Dell believes that Twitter is particularly pertinent to radio coverage of events.

"I find Twitter to be the best source of breaking news," she said. "When there was a minor earthquake in Melbourne recently, I knew about it seconds after it happened. It was at least 20 to 30 minutes before any of the online news sites had the information. In radio, that immediacy is a huge advantage."

Wolf Cocklin is adamant that journalists need to be on Twitter because of its role in breaking news coverage; he cites Twitter's role in reporting a recent large scale blackout in Sydney as an example.

"I was able to crowdsource the size and approximate location of the affected area in 5 minutes, faster than calling 100 people to ask them if their power was out," he said.

ABC Online's Gary Kemble agrees, saying Twitter is invaluable for alerting media outlets to breaking stories and that the ABC has decided to break news first on Twitter ahead of its own website: "We use the @abcnews service to post 'breaking news' alerts. It's faster than our CMS, so we can get the info out there faster, in the first instance, by using Twitter."

Fact-Check First, Tweet Second

Twitter is news headlines on speed. But despite the pressure of an unrelenting 24/7 news cycle, most of the journalists I interviewed expressed caution about blind reliance on Twitter for crowdsourcing coverage during breaking news events. Paramount -- particularly during disasters -- was concern about accuracy and public safety, as John Bergin of Sky News noted.

"Twitter may have accelerated the means by which we can source information, but that doesn't mean that Sky News, or any other news outlet, should incorporate crowdsourced versions of events or comments without holding them up to careful scrutiny first," he said.

Nevertheless, Sky has incorporated Twitter into disaster coverage.

"In the case of the Melbourne tremor we used Twitter, along with viewer emails and phone calls, to inform viewers of what was happening prior to the release of any formal information from Geosciences Australia," said Bergin.

ACP's Jason Whittaker agrees, saying traditional reporting principles still need to be applied to Twitter.

"An account from a witness on Twitter is little different to interviewing someone over the phone or at the scene of an event and using this account to build a story," he said. Such information must be scrutinised just as much as traditionally sourced material. "It must be verified, checked against other sources, and treated with a degree of scepticism. Too many journalists are being caught out online by not doing enough checking of the facts, and Twitter is no different," he said.

While the old rules of fact checking prior to publication and awareness about the public and professional consequences of private actions remain good guidelines for tweeting journalists, Twitter has raised a new set of professional and ethical questions. For example: What's fair game for reporters on the platform? Is everything said in this public space reportable and on the record? Do you need to get permission from a tweeter to quote one of their tweets in a piece of traditional journalism? How much of an additional burden is daily tweeting on already overloaded journalists? And what's the impact of constant tweeting on their capacity to produce considered, original journalism?

I'll attempt to answer some of these questions in part three of this series which will focus on an examination of the "rules of engagement" for tweeting journalists as media outlets begin to establish guidelines and codes of conduct applicable to the platform. I'll also canvas the ways in which journalists are self-regulating their tweeting and provide practical tips for those just starting out on Twitter -- along with those more experienced tweeters who are still grappling with some of the issues discussed here.    [read more]

Pic: Reuters


I’ve been stunned at how easily the national media has adopted the KRUDD line on the controversial ‘gift’ he received from his car-dealer neighbour – a fully registered and insured vehicle used for electioneering purposes.

The ABC’s National Political Editor, Chris Uhlmann, declared in his 7pm political wrap last night that there was "nothing improper" about the PM’s decision to keep the car as he had declared it on the Pecuniary Interests Register – the list designed make political donations transparent.

Technically, Uhlmann is correct: while there are caps on donations to political parties, there are currently no regulations preventing or capping ‘gifts’ to individual politicians and Rudd has denied doing favours on behalf of his buddy, the used car salesman. However, what journalists of his calibre should be asking (in addition to "Did the dealer receive any benefits in recognition of his gift?") is, ethically, how appropriate was this act and is it time for a review of standards? (Sidebar: They should probably also analyse the strategic mistake made by the Opposition in dumping the ute-controversy on the media in the midst of such a news day. "Bugger".)

Significantly, a similar scandal recently erupted in South Africa when it was revealed the Transport Minister in the newly installed Zuma government was ‘gifted’ a Mercedes Benz. While he was also technically in the clear, he elected to return the car in the wake of a public outcry. If this was the approach adopted in a country scandalised by political corruption, under the leadership of a President pilloried by the international media for questionable conduct, how can Australia justify such a passive stance on a related issue?

I raised these concerns on Twitter yesterday, suggesting journalists were being too easily diverted from the story by the (very effective) PR tactics of the Rudd spin machine that went like this: Bombshell – “Look, Fitzgibbon!” - and comedic sidebar – “Those naughty Chaser boys!”

Speaking from experience as a former ABC press gallery journalist, I know it’s very hard to find the time and resources to properly follow leads and alternative angles when you’re being thrown curve-balls on a very big news day. But it must be done - you need to take five minutes to remove the blinkers and think outside the spin, to consider the bigger implications of issues like this. And that’s what remote editorial supervisors are for: to offer perspective outside the hothouse and assign other reporters to the issues as required, to ensure comprehensive coverage.

As I asked on Twitter – why are there no caps on donations or gifts to individual politicians? Where is the line? What’s to stop a politician receiving a fat account from a bank in the name of his or her child’s education? Could he or she accept a house built by a construction company to use for personal or political purposes? And what are the implications of such policy absences?

Kevin Rudd's neighbour: Car dealer, John grant who 'gifted' an electric ute to the PM. (Pic. courtesy Brisbane Times)

My proposal in response to Rudd's donated ute – three parts serious and one part wit: suggest the Prime Minister might consider donating his ‘gift' to the Starlight Foundation. That’s a suggestion now being peddled by Greens leader Bob Brown: "It's a terrible look," Senator Brown told AAP "I think the prime minister would have been very wise to give that car to charity years ago."

He’s also proposing a cap on donations to individual MPs of a few hundred dollars. “But when it comes to gifts worth thousands, or tens of thousands of dollars, they should be unavailable to individual MPs, let alone MPs who then become prime ministers,” Senator Brown said.

I’d go even further and suggest that to avoid the appearance of impropriety in an age where political cynicism already sees the community rating politicians' integrity very poorly, it would be wise to recommend against receiving any personal gifts from constituents or lobby groups. These are the protocols guiding the public servants working under Rudd and the journalists who report his government. For bureaucrats and reporters the implication of favours expected in return for gifts makes receipt of them verboten according to ethical codes of conduct and established protocols.

I’d also suggest journalists investigate this issue further – it’s much broader than a second hand ute being donated to the PM. How many politicians on both sides of parliament have profited from such questionable ‘gifting’? And what favours have been done or implied in return?

Politically, this is indeed a very bad look for Rudd – particularly coming, as it does, hot on the heels of his lame defence of the policy which allows his ministers AND their staffers to fly first class on the tax-payer’s purse. His argument? “John Howard did it”. Hardly the stuff of social-justice oriented politics for one elected on the wave of a backlash against the self-centredness of ‘Howardism’.

The car dealer at the centre of the controversy clearly doesn’t get it but Kevin Rudd and his strategists should be able to see through their own spin to the potential damage of ongoing perceptions of conflicts of interest and vested interests. They have an opportunity to take the moral high ground and institute genuine reform to help restore public confidence in political institutions. It’s time to “back up the truck”, Kev. And it's time the rest of us started more closely scrutinising what falls off the backs of trucks into our elected representatives laps.    [read more]

Twitter became big news once journalists realised its power as a tool for breaking stories during the Mumbai Massacre in 2008. In the aftermath of the micro-blogging platform hitting the headlines, there was an explosion of professional journalists in the Twittersphere. This growth has been fuelled by increasing mainstream awareness of the importance of social media to the future of a crisis-ridden industry and the elevation of Twitter as a platform for news dissemination, citizen journalism and audience interaction.

So, how are journalists using Twitter? How is the service changing traditional reporting practices? And what (if any) are the rules of engagement with the platform for professional journalists? I interviewed 25 of the journalists I follow on Twitter (most of them Australian with a smattering of South African and U.S. respondents) to find out first-hand.

This is the first instalment in a two-part series written for the US-based PBS website Mediashifton the theme of journalists and Twitter.

Twitter-mania

In Australia, where journalists are literally in a Twittering frenzy, the platform was incorporated into mainstream news coverage of the Black Saturday bushfires which devastated the southern state of Victoria in February. The ABC pioneered the use of the technology during the disaster with impressive results.

(Pic courtesy News Ltd)

And last week, during violent storms and flooding in the states of Queensland and New South Wales (NSW), it was evident how embedded Twitter had become as a component of ABC radio's breaking news coverage. Reporters from remote regions through to network stars and even the corporation's "Managing Director":http://twitter.com/abcmarkscott are Tweeting their way into unprecedented public engagement. As Leigh Sales, anchor of the respected nightly news program Lateline told me: "I'm giving Twitter a red hot go."



But as I watched my Twitter-feed flood with news of the deadly storms, I saw something else racing up the trending topics chart: the London industry gathering #media140 called to discuss the role of Twitter in breaking news. Inevitably, the debate canvassed the views of resistors and detractors who argued "Twitter isn't journalism." Sound familiar to veterans of the great blogging vs. journalism debate? Of course Twitter isn't journalism, it's a platform like radio or TV but with unfettered interactivity. However, the act of tweeting can be as journalistic as the act of headline writing. Similarly, the platform can be used for real-time reporting by professional journalists in a manner as kosher as a broadcast news live report.

Evidence of resistance was also broadcast in Australia this month on Radio National's Life Matters. In an program devoted to the impact of social media, host Richard Aedy declared himself a sceptic and said he didn't see the point of platforms like Twitter. He found some support within his audience -- an older, educated, affluent crowd (disclaimer: I'm a regular listener!). But many called the program to describe how social media such as Twitter could be useful social connectors and information sources. While one of his guests (social connection expert @iggypintado)plugged the virtues of Twitter, another, respected veteran science broadcaster Robin Williams dismissed the platform, proudly telling listeners he was very connected and yet didn't even own a mobile phone.

However, the producers invited listeners to participate in the discussion via Twitter and the experiment was a success. Twitter users -- some of whom had never previously heard the program -- tweetedtheir way through it, posting hundreds of comments and making an impression on the sceptical host. I was invited to appear on the next edition of the program to discuss the Twitter political reporting experiment I conducted last September with my students and the emerging role of Twitter in journalism. By that stage, there was less "But isn't it just inane public belly-gazing?" and more "It strikes me this is a little like citizen journalism," which was good to hear as the program's weekly talkback sessions are a natural bridge to social media enhancement and potentially a younger, expanded audience.

Nevertheless, Twitter (in conjunction with other social media platforms) is changing journalism and these changes need to be carefully scrutinised with open minds.

How do journalists identify themselves on Twitter?

Most of the journalists I interviewed tweet openly, acknowledging their professional identity and real name in their personal Twitter page biographies, even if they use an online nickname. Only one locked his account, meaning he had to approve potential followers before they would be able to view his tweets. However, several deliberately withheld the name of their employer to avoid perceived conflicts of interest.

But the themes of trust and credibility, honesty and transparency came up constantly as significant features of successful social media engagement and most of the journalists I interviewed had connected the dots.

"Because I use Twitter to source content (and) find news tips, I think it's best to be open about where I'm coming from," said Gary Kemble, the ABC's Online Opinion Editor. He's also responsible for the broadcaster's @abcnews and @articulate Twitter feeds.

The ABC's national youth affairs correspondent, Michael Turtle agreed.

"I think the very nature of Twitter lends itself towards having an open profile and being honest about who you are," he said. "The power of the site is the ability to connect directly with people and engage in conversations. It wouldn't be nearly as effective if you chose to do that anonymously."



When asked why he tweeted openly, John Grey, online editor of Brisbane's The Courier Mail, said: "Call me wacky, call me weird, but I think people are more likely to have an interactive relationship with a human rather than a bot."

Freelance journalist Rachel Hills acknowledged her upfront tweeting as being consistent with the need for interactivity between the reporter and the audience in the digital age.

"I have adopted this relatively open approach because I view the future of media (or at least the kind of ideas and issues based work that I do as a freelancer) as being about hosting and facilitating conversations -- interacting with the people who care about the work that you do is vital," she said.

However, ABC Adelaide news reader and producer, Jacqui Munn http://www.twitter.com/tohbee reflected the caution that some journalists feel about the merger of the private and the public that occurs in social media spaces like the Twittersphere. She switched from tweeting openly to anonymously once her journalistic identity was revealed.

"I wasn't looking to use it to communicate as a journalist and didn't feel comfortable being judged professionally for just shooting the breeze with friends and other somewhat anonymous acquaintances," Munn said.

How are journalists using Twitter?

Professional journalists are using Twitter to enhance and augment traditional reporting practices. It's another tool in their kit and many journalists, like ABC radio producer Andrew Davies, are now logged onto Twitter throughout their working day.

"I try and start my day by looking at what people are saying (and) talking about on Twitter," he said, "I love being able to read all the fantastic links to interesting websites, ideas (and) news that people have sent out."

Reporters I interviewed are using the platform to "broadcast" links to content they or their news outlet have produced in an effort to build a new audience. Some also contribute to, or manage, organisational Twitter accounts on behalf of their employers. A few use it as a live reporting platform and some employ applications to share images, audio and links to other online content they find interesting. And many are using it to crowdsource contacts, story angles, background and case studies. In fact, when I began researching this story, my first move was to tweet a request for journalists to respond to questions about why they were on Twitter and how they used the platform. I received useful feedback and uncovered a number of new contacts via this method before conducting more extensive online interviews.

The ABC's Michael Turtle uses Twitter regularly to monitor public debate which he acknowledges influences his storytelling.

"It sometimes helps to use Twitter to gauge opinion on an issue," Turtle said. "You would certainly never claim the views online are representative, or seek to pass off a collection of tweets as an accurate poll. But it can point you in the direction of certain views, which can help guide some of the questions you might ask or angles you might follow-up."

Most journalists I interviewed monitor the feeds of sources on their beats as an adjunct to website and email accounts. They check their competition and try to keep up to date with hot industry issues. For some, it's replaced their RSS news feeds and for others it's a way of networking with peers and developing mentors. It's the end-of-day bar debriefing and a reporting tool rolled into one.

Journalists Marketing Themselves

As journalism and entertainment continue to merge, and reporters increasingly become media personalities, image conscious journalists are gaining awareness of Twitter's power as a branding and marketing tool. This is paramount in the mind of the ABC's Leigh Sales who has developed an Australian Twittersphere cult-following with a unique blend of news and wit. She says the jury is still out on the real value of Twitter to her.

"It's hard to see the application for me, given that I only have 1,000 or so followers, yet my program rates around 300k." But she pointed to the potential value of such a following in marketing her books.



However, journalists are also beginning to see the value in using Twitter to interact with their audiences, recognising the inevitable breakdown of old media strictures that separated news producers and receivers and reinforced a top-down approach to media consumption.

"Like other broadcasters and newspapers, we use Twitter to alert others to new stories and to invite feedback -- but we don't believe it should stop there," observed Sky News Australia deputy director of digital news "John Bergin":http://twitter.com/theburgerman). "Our strategy doesn't think of the viewer 'out there' spatially and conceptually. One of the most interesting things about Twitter is that there is no strictly defined audience. Every participant has the same tools to articulate his or her point, to frame an issue, to set an agenda. The space between news producer and news consumer has collapsed. We try to use Twitter as a means of inviting them into the newsroom, asking them what they think, what questions they would like us to ask our guests, and so forth."

Subverting PR and Getting Jobs

Some journalists also reported using Twitter as a means of subverting the increasingly dominant modern PR machine. They said it allowed them to quickly go beyond press releases and official sources, like lobby groups and politicians, by interacting with followers who provided alternative perspectives, useful background and sometimes crucial facts in a story.



Finally, the journalists I interviewed mentioned the role of Twitter as a sort of media job agency. The Sydney Star Observer's Harley Dennett highlighted the value of networking with senior journalists and editors at major Australian publications on Twitter.

"I comment on news of the day hoping potential future employers will notice how witty and informed I am," he said.

This strategy worked for one U.S. college graduate. After initially failing to make an impression via email, Ashley Reynolds direct-messaged (DMing as it's known involves sending a private message to one of your followers through Twitter) the News Director at WYMT TV in Hazard, Kentucky. It worked. He replied via Twitter, set up an interview and she's about to start work as a reporter on his news team.

"As far as I know, I'm the only one who contacted him through Twitter, so I really stood out," she said. "With direct message you have to sell yourself in 140 characters. So in order to sell myself I had to be short, sharp, and simple."

Breaking news in Twitter

In addition to using Twitter to monitor breaking news -- like a mini wire service with public participation -- and for the dissemination of breaking news, the ABC has also assigned reporters to live-tweet events, such as the Queensland state election this March. And there are plans to expand Twitter-based special events coverage.

Some of the reporters I interviewed pointed to the value of Twittersearch -- a function which allows users to search on specific terms or phrases which are often grouped by relevant hashtags -- to easily monitor community reporting of major breaking news. They also pointed to recent moves by public officials to release news via Twitter ahead of issuing press releases or staging media conferences. This means Twitter is being used not only as a place to cover and monitor breaking news, but also a place for sources to break news.

But the public is less likely to trust news broken on Twitter than that which is delivered via traditional news outlets, according to Harley Dennett, who says audiences still attach credibility to detail, as he discovered when he recently broke a story on Twitter about the closure of the Federal Magistrate's Court in Sydney.

"Sometimes people don't believe me when I reveal something on Twitter before the full story, with supporting quotes and documentation, comes out in print or online," he said. "It's hard to prove something in 140 characters when there's nothing to link."

Journalists would be wise to exercise similar caution, as two stories from Sydney this past fortnight demonstrate. In the first instance, a journalist writing for the online publication Crikey attacked Sydney Morning Herald technology reporter, Asher Moses (who did not respond to a request for an interview) for inappropriate tweeting. Crikey later apologised when it was revealed that some of the offending tweets actually came from a fake Twitter account

In the second incident, it was revealed that a marketing company had been tweeting under the guise of the NSW Police Service about policies and crime in a social media experiment inspired by Barack Obama's use of Twitter in his 2008 U.S. presidential campaign. The @nswpolice Twitter account had attracted 2,000 followers and forced a disgruntled police media unit to tweet under another handle before Twitter shut down the imposter site.

In the next instalment of this two part series on journalists' engagement with Twitter, I'll look at the implications of the clash between the personal and the public in the Twittersphere along with the regulation of reporters' tweeting by their employers and the ways in which Twitter is altering traditional practice. I'll also provide a list of tips for journalists starting out on Twitter, crowdsourced from those already active in the space.

View this post as it originally appeared on Mediashift and leave comments here    [read more]

This is the third part of a continuing J-Scribe series on my problematic pregnancy. See Reborn Part 1 & Reborn Part 2

It was an agonisingly long week between the onset of the threatened miscarriage and the appointment with the obstetrician which would deliver the news about our baby’s ability to endure. But it was news worth waiting for.

-----Original Message-----
From: Julie.Posetti
Sent: Monday, 23 February 2009 5:24 PM
To: Julie Posetti
Subject: Good news!

Dear family & friends,

Newsflash: our baby has survived the 'threatened miscarriage'! :o))

S/he was kicking and squirming on the ultrasound today and the heartbeat
was strong. Sometimes miracles do happen :o)

I'm feeling a little better today, too, after a truly awful week with
several bleeding episodes and extreme fatigue pinning me to the couch
(when my mother wasn't! :o)

The obstetrician says this is the best outcome we could have hoped for.
Now it's about prayers, entreaties & crossed fingers, legs etc in the
hope that the threatened miscarriage stays at bay & the baby continues to
thrive for the next few weeks.

If the baby behaves itself, I have an appointment in a month at the Foetal Medicine Unit (FMU) at the Canberra Hospital and they will do another diagnostic scan with a view to getting a more predictive reading on the baby's health

They may be able to detect issues with the placenta that point, too,
but they won't manifest (beyond posing a continuing miscarriage threat)
until the 6-7 month mark in the form of retarded growth, likely
precipitating a premature birth. Yep, this will continue to be a
high-risk pregnancy...but as long as it does continue and a healthy baby
is ultimately delivered it will be a risk worth enduring.

So, now I just have to continue to follow doctor's orders: rest, recover
& avoid stress for the next fortnight to keep the baby hanging in there.

To that end: The Sound of Music will be screening on our TV tonight
after the Oscars frock fest :)

Thanks for all the love and support you've sent our way over the past
week. It's been touching and valuable to us. Please keep it coming
during the long journey ahead!

Love,

Julie & Tim

In the weeks that followed, I found the couch-sentence frustrating but I was rendered so exhausted by the threatened miscarriage symptoms I could do little more than complain quietly. And the stress was palpable.

Everytime I stood up or pottered about the house the bleeding would recommence. And that was so frightening...I was afraid to use the toilet...terrified of miscarrying at home alone. My mother came to stay to help ease the burden and satisfy my cravings for comforting dollops of carbohydrates...all I wanted was pasta, polenta and potato...and a lot of sleep.

Annoyingly, people kept telling me to “just chill, downtime is a luxury”. As I wrote to a friend, “I’m trying to view the enforced ‘relaxation’ as a ‘luxury’ but that’s really a bit delusional…nothing relaxing or luxurious about a threatened miscarriage which, apart from being very frightening, leaves you too physically & emotionally exhausted to do anything deep or productive with the downtime (I’ve even tried unsuccessfully to blog) but not sick enough to avoid being frustrated by being pinned down. And, every time I start feeling optimistic & think I’ve turned a corner I start bleeding again, as I did this morning, so…”

But as each day passed and the baby clung to life, hope grew and the stress surrounding my pregnancy slowly began to ease. On the bright side, the threatened miscarriage was a significant distraction from the lingering threat of chromosomal abnormality.

I found another distraction in my DVD collection. Much to my partner’s amusement and barely-masked frustration, I managed to remain couch-bound for seven whole series of the US comedy/drama “Gilmore Girls”…160 episodes watched back-to-back.



The time dragged as quickly as it could to the next ultrasound appointment the following week.

-----Original Message-----
From: Julie.Posetti [mailto:Julie.Posetti@canberra.edu.au]
Sent: 10 March 2009 03:05 PM
To: Julie.Posetti; tim@enigmacreativemedia.com.au
Subject: Update from the Couch

Dear family and friends,

Good news from the couch.

The baby is still doing well - s/he was seen kicking, 'talking on the
phone', waving and rubbing eyes on ultrasound today - and the mother finally
appears to be on the improve!

After another scare, which prolonged the threatened miscarriage diagnosis,
my couch-sentence was extended last week by a fortnight and, despite my
dislike of idleness and isolation, it seems to have helped. I'm still
utterly exhausted and not good for any sort of mental engagement cleverer
than a 'knock-knock' joke, but at least I've managed to re-activate my sense
of humour! :o)

At the end of next week, I have a very detailed scan and possibly other
diagnostic tests with the Prof of Fetal Medicine here in an effort to
determine the baby's health as there are significant concerns about
chromosomal abnormalities and the state of the placenta. The next hurdle.

Thanks to all those of you who've offered much appreciated care and support
over the past few weeks. It's been really valued. Please keep it coming!

Much love,

Julie, Tim and the precious cargo.

By the end of March I found reassurance outside the doctor’s rooms. “I started feeling her move inside me - the most mind-blowing sensation!” I wrote to a friend. But there was the lingering anxiety surrounding the high risk of birth defects which would be tested at the FMU the following week. And the sudden, inexplicable death of our horse, Dancer two days after the photo below was taken to celebrate the baby's survival, bringing grief back to our doorstep.



But there was happiness on the horizon.

-----Original Message-----
From: Julie.Posetti
Sent: Thu 02/04/2009 11:07 PM
To: Julie.Posetti
Subject: Baby, baby!


Dear family & friends,

Happy, happy news! After surviving a threatened miscarriage, our baby has defied predictions of serious genetic disorders and was today declared by the medicos to be developing “perfectly”!

Feisty and resilient (s/he gets that from her Mum :o), s/he bounced around on ultrasound @ the Fetal Medicine Unit (FMU) in Canberra today, showing off his/her apparently well-functioning brain, heart, kidneys etc and revealing a healthy growth spurt since his/her last cinematic performance a fortnight ago. Today's 4D scan was designed to detect abnormalities, indicated by earlier tests, which should be clearly apparent @ this stage of the baby's development.

But this baby appears to be thriving! S/he has a head which is way above average in size (to accommodate all those brains, which s/he inherited from his/her mother, who is writing this missive in case you hadn’t realised :o) but his/her little legs are a tad shorter than average (surprise!).

19 weeks on Monday and halfway home, s/he still has a long way to go, and his/her growth will continue to be monitored very closely with regular scans @ the FMU and weekly visits to see his/her fabulous obstetrician. This is because blood tests still indicate a likely problem with the placenta, which is expected to retard his/her growth later in the pregnancy and poses a risk for premature birth.

I’m (Julie) gradually feeling stronger (not to mention excited & relieved by the bambina/o’s progress!) after my frustrating but edifying couch sojourn. But it will be a while before ‘Superwoman’ is back in action!

Meantime, please keep those prayers etc coming, cross those fingers (or hold/squeeze those thumbs as the South Africans & Germans among you are wont to do!) and maintain those good vibrations! We really appreciate your love, care and cheer-leading – it’s helped us get this far!

Lots of love,

Julie, Tim and the Precious Cargo.

PS Yes, we know the sex, but no, we're not telling yet - although the androgynous identification is getting boring, so the cat is likely to leave the bag soon!



While question marks lingered around our baby’s future, by mid-April hope began to seed and I began to embrace the pregnancy more confidently. I wrote to a friend “…the bambina is going wild with the womb-dancing which is very comforting - although I'm sure that sensation will become more painful with time! Still having to moderate my activity & learning (again!) to pay attention to this battered old body's warning signals to slow down...not an easy achievement for moi, but easier to manage with another life dependent upon my behaviour to an extent!”

And there were moments of joy and even hilarity as I continued to improve and started venturing out into public more regularly. I reported to a friend at the time via email: “…despite a high stress morning yesterday, I was Zenned out enough by early afternoon to leave my laptop in a public loo (since retrieved thank goodness!) and prance around a busy city shopping centre, smiling at those who were staring at me (cos I’m such a 'hawt' preggers chick, I thought :o), without realising my skirt was tucked into my stockings!! Oblivious was I, till a woman rushed up to me in hushed tones to alert me. But even this major fashion faux pas failed to faze me and I just laughed & made a quip about providing the shoppers with another kind of stimulus package. See, veeeery chilled :o)”

The idea that we may actually soon have to bring a tiny human-being into our chaotic lives had finally dawned. And then the nesting began in earnest.

I put friends & family to good use in farmhouse working bees: “*Whip, whip!* So loving being the foreperson…this‘complicated’ preggers status definitely has its upsides…Have also resurrected the bassinet I slumbered in as a bambina but the Numero Uno Feline has decided to take up residence within (picture mother-in-law’s panicked expression here :o)”



In an episode worthy of “Changing Rooms” we shunted the study to the back of the house to make room for the baby and began culling 20 years worth of accumulated crap. Quite why I’d hung onto a fluorescent pink “Wham” t-shirt from 1983 I don’t know, but I was now ready to consign it to the bin. However, I quickly realised that for every item I disposed of there was a piece of baby-accoutrement waiting to take its place.

I simply couldn’t resist foraging for cute baby gear that looked barely big enough to
dress a doll in. Socks for newborns which, when rolled up, are the size of a cotton ball, are up there with the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. But that could be hormones talking.

And those hormones continue to talk in more ways than one. Ongoing morning sickness means I still greet every day at the sink. Small price to pay for a healthy baby I keep telling myself as involuntary tears run down my cheeks.

I joke about becoming ‘larger than life’ but how could I resent the impact this baby is having on my body?

Ahead of the next FMU growth scan I wrote to a friend last week: “The bambina is now very active. If you were to put your hand on my belly right now, you could feel her kicking and dancing. Experiencing that sensation internally is simply extraordinary. Like tiny punches, electrical impulses, breath-taking jabs of love. Like life summoning you.” I’m convinced that if men were able to experience this they would have figured out how to do pregnancy ahead of harvesting stem cells and mapping genomes.

-----Original Message-----
From: Julie.Posetti
Sent: Fri 15/05/2009 7:17 PM
To: Julie Posetti
Subject: News from the Baby-zone

Dear family & friends,

Our little girl (yes, she’s a gal, in case you missed the newsflash) is continuing to impress her parents and the medicos by defying negative predictions and developing “perfectly” inside her mummy’s womb.

The docs say she is 'bang-on' normal growth targets for her age (25 weeks on Monday) and they’ve indicated that while there are no guarantees, they would be "very, very surprised" if she was born with either of the deadly genetic defects she was threatened with.

They’ll continue to closely monitor her growth in the knowledge that there may be other issues which could affect her development in the coming weeks and precipitate a premature birth. But she seems pretty determined to enter the world - despite the meltdown of the human race. And we feel increasingly confident she’ll make it.

She put on a cheeky performance on the ultrasound @ the Foetal Medicine Unit on Thursday, displaying her bottom with the confidence of a burlesque dancer. But she was very shy about revealing her face, preferring instead to cover her smile with the feet she was fascinated by.

Her mummy is ‘blooming’ at speed, reminiscent of Harry Potter’s Aunt Marge when she floated above Little Whinging, propelled by hyper-inflation. But, apart from the usual problems & continuing morning sickness, the pregnancy is progressing well. Nevertheless, mindful of the ongoing risks and the difficult path to this point, the docs have restricted her to working from home for the duration of the semester. She’s enjoying the mental stimulation and nesting like a … (pick an industrious, sentimental bird)

Thanks again for your continuing prayers, finger-crossing, thumb-holding, love and concern. Please keep it coming as the countdown continues!

Much love,

Julie, Tim and The Bambina



As I write this my little girl is kicking me in the belly and signalling her hunger to me…I imagine her like a tiny belly dancer, quaffing Turkish Delight and clapping her hands with delight every time she hears the dog bark.

She turns 26 weeks on Monday. Her next scan at the Canberra FMU is at 30 weeks.

The Bambina is due the week of the first anniversary of my grandmother’s death. Grandma never gave up praying I’d have a living, healthy baby and I sometimes feel like she’s urging this little girl inside me to the finish line. That’s the sort of tenacity Grandma would have showed in the womb. Her granddaughter inherited that fighting spirit and it seems her great-granddaughter has too.    [read more]

This is a continuation of a series of posts on my problematic pregnancy against a backdrop of recurrent miscarriage. Please share the journey with me. (Read Reborn Part 1 first)

When the Fetal Medicine Unit doctor called us in to his rooms, looking apprehensive and clutching test results in his hand, we knew something wasn’t right.

The results were from sophisticated blood tests which form the second component of the Nuchal Translucency Screening Tests. They’re correlated with the ultrasound results and background risks, such as age and obstetric history, to produce more accurate readings for significant birth defects.

Firstly, he pointed to the very low risk recorded for Down’s Syndrome (Trisomy 21) considering my age (1:1341), but it was clear that wasn’t the end of the story.


Running his finger down the adjacent column of results, he lowered his voice, saying “But you have a very significant risk - 1:16 - of carrying a baby with Trisomy 18 and also worrying is the 1:74 risk of Trisomy 13”. Neither my partner nor I knew what either of these lesser known syndromes entailed but it was obvious from the look on the doctor’s face that both were more grave than Down’s. Apparently I had a low reading of a 'maternal serum marker' labelled PAPP-A…whatever that meant. I felt like somebody had punched me in the stomach. Like I’d free-fallen from a great height.

He began talking about options. My concentration faded in and out. I could opt to have an amniocentesis there and then or I could wait a week and return for the test. Or, I could choose to do nothing and monitor the baby’s growth and development until 20 weeks. But after that point, termination wasn’t an option. Perhaps, he said, there might not be a problem with the baby at all – the tests results could be indicative of the underlying issues connected to my history of miscarriage which may have been affecting the development of the placenta. But this would place me at risk of late term miscarriage, premature birth & low birth weight.

I decided against having an amniocentesis on the spot without too much hesitation. There is a significant risk of miscarriage associated with this test, which involves extracting amniotic fluid from the sac for definitive genetic testing. The purpose of the test is to give the mother the necessary information to make a decision about an abortion where birth defects are suspected. And as I wrote to a friend later that night, “Today I chose to wait and live in hope. Couldn't bring myself to put the baby at risk. And I really don't know if I could choose to abort a baby I am now so bonded to at any rate – especially considering my history of miscarriage.”

The Survival Plan

So we made a plan with the FMU specialist to have another high-level diagnostic scan at 18 weeks. The hope was that the scan would discount the bad blood tests by showing a baby continuing to thrive. A still active baby viewed at 18 weeks with an examination of vital organs, facial features, skeletal structure, on target growth etc, indicating 'normal' development, would provide reasonable confidence that the baby had defied the risks with regular scans thereafter to track ongoing development. But if the scan results were poor, they'd recommend I have an amniocentesis. And if those results confirmed one of the suspected syndromes, I'd then have to make a decision about a late abortion.



When I got home I felt like I was in a bad dream but rather than curl up on the couch I began voraciously researching Trisomy 18 and 13 – knowledge is power to a journalist and research is a coping mechanism for me.

According to Dr Google, both of these chromosomal abnormalities manifest horrendously…much worse than Downs'. Characteristics include severe mental retardation and very serious defects involving the heart, kidneys and other organs along with additional physical symptoms. But worse, most babies with these conditions don't survive to term or are stillborn. And of those who survive birth, 50% and 80 % respectively die within 7-42 days, although a handful have lived up to the age of 10 with significant medical intervention.

Before I went to bed, I wrote to a friend “As I'm sure you can imagine, this is a pretty awful experience…I was so looking forward to being unreservedly, publicly joyful about this pregnancy. And now I have an agonising 6-week wait before I know more. And a building sense of premature grief as a large question-mark clouds the baby's future. Why, for once, couldn't things just be 'easy'? I realise that sounds self-centred and plenty of others are worse off…but don't I deserve a break from the universe…some genuine, unadulterated pleasure?”

“I really am trying to focus on the positive. And, from the 'happy thoughts' annals, a 1:16 chance of having a baby with one of these conditions – a rate 20 times higher than other women my age who already face elevated risk - is still a 15:16 chance that it won't be affected. And I'm holding onto the anecdotal wisdom that a baby on-target in terms of growth at 12 weeks, who appears very active on ultrasound, is a good indicator of one who'll ultimately thrive and arrive healthy… How could I not live in hope that this little human being is meant to survive and make a stellar contribution to human kind whatever her capacities?”

I eventually drifted into sleep, worried about the decision that lay ahead regarding the amniocentesis and praying for a healthy baby.

But I woke up to a nightmare.

Threatened Miscarriage

Feeling feverish, crampy and wet, I touched my thighs and was alarmed to feel liquid. I sat bolt upright and threw the covers back to find sheets covered in blood. “No!!” I cried. “I’m bleeding!” My partner jolted awake and sat speechless on the bed while I angrily blinked back tears. “Not again!” I stuttered. It was 7am and we didn’t know what to do. There was no way I was going to a hospital emergency room after previous scarring experiences of mistreatment in the midst of miscarriage. Instead, I lay back down and, despite passing blood clots, I prayed the bleeding would stop. At 8.30am we got in the car and drove to the obstetrician’s, alerting the surgery before we arrived.

I sat in the waiting room surrounding by pregnant women with babies and small children in tow. It was a harrowing wait. I could no longer stem the tears but just hoped I could stop my quivering bottom lip from progressing to a state of full-blown, heaving sobbing. My obstetrician ushered me into her office next. She tried to prepare me for bad news on the ultrasound…I was oblivious – I just wanted to see my baby.

But I couldn’t look at the ultrasound screen until I heard her say, after a few moments’ hesitation, “She’s OK. There’s her heartbeat”. The baby was lethargic but her heartbeat was strong. We still didn’t know the baby’s gender but the obstetrician had concluded she was a girl “Girls are tougher, they’re survivors", she said.

While seeing my living baby was extraordinarily reassuring, I was now officially in the grip of another 'threatened miscarriage'. The obstetrician surmised that the cause of the bleeding could either be a very ill baby in the process of miscarrying or a poorly formed/functioning placenta which could also trigger miscarriage but may be 'survivable' if the bleeding stopped.

I narrowly escaped hospital admission on the condition I agree to three weeks' bed rest at home and to "avoid stress at all costs". But, if the situation deteriorated further, I was warned I’d inevitably wind up in hospital. Unfortunately there was nothing else I or the medicos could do at that point but 'wait & see'. An incredibly frustrating treatment plan. The hope was that the bleeding would abate and the baby would recover…but the chances were not brilliant. Nevertheless, I continued to hope – in the context of reality.

Admitting I Needed Support

As I wrote to a friend that night, my biggest underlying fear was grief: “I don't know if I can withstand more loss in the form of another miscarriage. Yes, I'm strong and resilient and I have survived much and thrived in the aftermath...but I'm only human. That said...deep down I seem to know I'll somehow find the strength to keep walking independently no matter what happens. But this is definitely one of those times where I have to concede I need help in the form of care & support from others.”

In the grip of this crisis, my partner withdrew emotionally and he wanted to keep the pregnancy quiet until the 18 week scan - assuming I didn’t miscarry the baby. These were very trying times. But I was already ‘showing’ and it would be beyond obvious that I was pregnant at 18 weeks. Besides, I really needed the outside support now that things had grown so difficult. So, I broadcast the news to an extended network of friends and family via email.



“Everyone keeps telling me how strong I am...strange...I feel weak, afraid & exposed. But I do seem to have relocated my funny bone, which is probably a good sign,” I wrote to a friend as I lay on my couch a few days later, so exhausted – emotionally and physically that I could do no more than watch Harry Potter DVDs.

On February 19th I wrote: “The bleeding has escalated again & it's just shattering :( Why isn't it stopping? Is the baby OK? It's awful to feel so out of control of your own body when another life is dependent upon it.”

We would have to wait until the following Monday – the next scheduled obstetrician’s visit - to discover whether or not the baby had survived the ordeal.    [read more]

The Bambina @ 12 weeks


She kicks me in the guts and I feel only love.

It’s been a long, painful journey to motherhood for me. At 38 and with a history of recurrent miscarriage I’d almost resigned myself to childlessness. But now I’m eagerly awaiting the delivery of my baby girl.

The Bambina, as I’ve called her since she was just the size of a peanut and her gender was indeterminate, is now 25 weeks old and will be a resident of my womb until August.

Last November, 15 months after my last miscarriage – a perfect little boy who died inexplicably at 11 weeks in utero – I went to see a fertility specialist to progress inquiries into the cause of my previous three miscarriages. I’d put it off as long as I could. I still wasn’t sure I could risk the pain of another pregnancy loss but the doctor was upfront: “It’s now or quite possibly never.” This was because of my partner’s low fertility due to cancer treatment and my ‘advanced maternal age’ in conjunction with my history of miscarriage. IVF would be required to get results quickly. First, though, I would undergo surgery in an effort to identify possible causes of miscarriage.

I left the specialist with my partner, feeling like I no longer had options – to choose to do nothing now would probably deny me a choice down the track. So, we agreed uneasily to ‘throw it up to God’.

Beating IVF

In mid-December I underwent investigative surgery and, amidst extreme work-related stress, I began to prepare mentally for commencement of IVF in January. Part of that ‘preparation’ involved immersion in an alcoholic haze over Christmas. But the day after Boxing Day I awoke feeling queezy…breasts tender…period late. I joined the dots and the ‘piddle-stick’ confirmed the result: these symptoms weren’t just the product of stress and exhaustion, I was pregnant! Fear and excitement merged and stole my breath. I summoned my partner and we sat staring at that stick in disbelief. Then we laughed, acknowledging our earlier decision to ‘throw it up to God’.

My first instinct was to consult the medicos…I needed to know what the surgery had uncovered. I was 5 weeks pregnant and I lost my first baby at 6 weeks, the second at 8 weeks and the third at 11 weeks. But this was the period between Christmas and New Year and my fertility specialist, my obstetrician and my GP were all on holidays. Limbo.

Not content to sit back and wait, though, my partner tracked down a nurse at the fertility centre where we were tentatively enrolled and she bridged the gap. She contacted the holidaying specialist who confirmed that the surgery and associated tests had uncovered possible causes of my previous miscarriages. I had a high level of ‘Natural Killer’ cells in my uterus along with the presence of cardiolipin antibodies and phospholipid antibodies. Both of these factors have been linked in research to multiple miscarriages during the first trimester. It’s believed they inhibit the implantation and growth of the embryo and may cause an immune-system triggered rejection of the baby. It was a terrible thought to confront: my own body may have effectively killed my babies...

I was then was sent for blood tests which indicated hormone levels consistent with a normally progressing early pregnancy and I booked in for an ultrasound to establish the viability of the pregnancy. I felt physically ill in the lead-up to that ultrasound appointment – I was desperate to see my baby’s beating heart on that screen. These scans had ended in heartache in previous pregnancies on all but one occasion. A heartbeat was detected at 6 weeks during a threatened miscarriage with my last pregnancy, but at 12 weeks a follow-up ultrasound revealed my baby had died in the interim.

Scanning For Life

So, as I lay on the clinic bed this time around, with a stomach covered in ultrasound gel, I stared at the monitor, holding my breath. The radiographer was too quiet for my liking and my partner & I shared pained expressions as he squeezed my hand. But after what seemed like an interminable period, she said “Can you see that flashing light? That’s your baby’s heartbeat”. She brought up a graphic representation of the heartbeat and told us it was a very healthy 180 beats per minute. I wanted to cry with relief but apprehension about the ongoing risk of miscarriage, and having previously miscarried after seeing such a heartbeat despite a 95% chance the baby would progress to term, self-preservation instincts kicked in and I suppressed the excitement…I needed to be emotionally cautious. This proved a wise move. The radiologist who analysed the scans reported that the heart-rate was actually 118, not 180 and this was marginally below what’s considered ‘normal’. Nevertheless, he declared the pregnancy viable at six weeks.

I was then prescribed daily injections of a drug called Clexane (a blood thinner and immune system suppressor) to address the underlying problems identified in the IVF work-up, while I waited nervously to see a specialist at the conclusion of the holiday hiatus.

Face Down on the Bathroom Floor

But a few days after I began this treatment, feeling very ill, I hovered over a glass bowl on the edge of my bath. Moments later I was passed out, face down on the tiled bathroom floor…lying naked in a pile of shattered glass. As my panicked partner tried to rouse me, I felt myself fitting as I came to – tongue clenched between teeth and my leg kicking involuntarily. This was a very scary experience but all I could think was “Is the baby OK?” As my partner patched up the cuts that covered the left side of my body, I feared the worst.

I was instructed by the IVF nurse to go straight to Emergency at Canberra Hospital if I fainted or fitted again and to see my GP ASAP. Thankfully, my bathroom performance had no encore but I had to wait three more days before my GP’s surgery reopened. When I finally saw her, she did some routine tests and deduced that the episode was probably a virus or the product of a blood pressure spike. The baby would not have been affected.

I gradually began telling my closest relatives and friends about the pregnancy during this period, having decided I would need the support if anything did go wrong and wanting to celebrate the news quietly with them – it was important to validate the life of our baby in the hearts and minds of the people I love most. Also, as I wrote to a trusted friend at the time “Geez, I'm a journalist and I have a human being growing inside me - hard to embargo that kind of yarn!” There was an appropriate mixture of joy and apprehension from those I shared the news with and it was comforting to know they were variously thinking of us, praying for us and begging the universe to intervene on our behalf.

Specialist Intervention

In mid-January, I finally got in to see my IVF specialist who confirmed previous test results and explained that I’d be on the daily injections until I was 14-20 weeks pregnant. Injected into my stomach, these needles were not the highlight of my day but I was grateful for any kind of medical intervention that might lead to a sustainable pregnancy. However, she gaped when I told her that I was pregnant at the time of the exploratory surgery. “No, you couldn’t have been!” she said, pushing her chair back from the desk. “You do the maths", I thought. “That’s the stuff of my worst nightmares”, she said “...operating on someone who is pregnant and possibly accidentally aborting the baby”.

Poor woman looked like she may fall off her chair. So, I said “Not to worry, ‘she’ has so far survived a surgeon’s invasion and a scary fitting episode after being conceived amidst extreme stress, with the assistance of that excellent relaxant called champagne. It’s OK”. And, as I wrote to a friend at the time, “...there's something encouragingly cheeky and determined (s/he clearly gets that from moi :) about a baby who pre-empts IVF...and survives a surgeon’s knife that bodes well for this pregnancy. So, I am taking a leaf out of Obama's book and having the audacity to hope.”

By the end of the month I’d seen my obstetrician who, while very excited for me after helping me through my last miscarriage, was keen to monitor the pregnancy very closely due to its high-risk nature. So, I saw her weekly from thereon in and eagerly but nervously looked forward to greeting my baby on the ultrasound screen at each visit. Although a consequence of a problematic pregnancy, this was a rare privilege. Seeing her heart beat and watching the incredible pace of her growth week-to-week cemented the bonding I’d subtly resisted out of fear. I fell in love with my baby during this period, conscious that if she was lost to me, devastation would be eclipsed.

I was referred to the specialist Foetal Medicine Unit (FMU) at Canberra hospital for assessment and a diagnostic scan at 12 weeks and we decided to go ‘public’ with the news after that appointment, based on the conventional wisdom that miscarriage risk declines significantly after that point. Gradually, I began to relax into the pregnancy and hope started to supplant fear.

Perfect Baby

So, in mid-February, in the grip of conflated excitement and anxiety, we visited the FMU for the long-awaited 12 week scan. The friendly but professional medico appreciated our anxiety and immediately reassured us that our baby was alive and kicking – quite literally! It was extraordinary to watch her body being mapped on 4D ultrasound. She no longer resembled a peanut or a jelly-bean – she now looked like a miniature human-being, albeit an oddly proportioned one. Arms, legs, fingers and toes, distinctive facial features and already in possession of some fairly impressive dance moves. The ultrasound operator acknowledged all of these observations as excellent signs, consistent with normal development, and confirmed this with a crucial measurement – the depth of the Nuchal Fold, a pocket of fluid located at the back of a foetus’ neck which indicates the likelihood of Down’s Syndrome. My age put me at significant risk of having a Down's baby but the radiographer declared: “that measurement is perfect”. The baby’s major organs also appeared to be developing “perfectly”, she said. I couldn’t wipe the wide smile off my face and I allowed my heart to leap unfettered for the first time during the pregnancy.

We left the ultrasound room to await our appointment with the FMU specialist, feeling confident and relieved. But bad news was lurking just around the corner    [read more]

Foreign correspondents are being deported, police and military operatives have been stationed in newsrooms to enforce government censorship and the ABC’s Radio Australia transmitters were forcibly shutdown today as coup leaders sought to silence their opponents via ‘emergency regulations’ enforced under the cloak of Easter.

Coup leader: Frank Bainimarama (Image:AFP)

The International Federation of Journalists (IFJ) has likened the media repression in Fiji to the situation in Zimbabwe, North Korea and Burma. “…the draconian and reprehensible manner in which the military leadership is seeking to control information about highly significant events and issues in Fiji is comparable to the actions of other dictatorial regimes and closed societies” IFJ President Aiden White said.

Veteran ABC Pacific Correspondent Sean Dorney was expelled from Fiji on Easter Monday, along with a New Zealand TV news team, for coverage of the media clampdown. He was asked to leave voluntarily but refused, telling Fijian Immigration officials he had a valid passport and he had a reporting job to do. “I'm not surprised they don't want foreign journalists here telling the rest of the world what
you are not allowed to tell your own people," Dorney told the ABC as he awaited deportation. After spending 5 hours in custody while officials
reviewed his footage, Dorney arrived home on Tuesday, telling the ABC "The censorship at the moment is just absolutely extraordinary,
never in Fiji before has it been this tough, even after [Sitiveni] Rabuka's coup.

Sean Dorney (Image: ABC)

A defiant Fiji TV reporter, Edwin Nand, was jailed for 36 hours for reporting Dorney's detention and he’s been banned from returning to work.
Meantime, Fiji Law Society president, Dorsami Naidu, was jailed for 24 hours and threatened with sedition charges after telling the media
that foreign reporters were being gagged "They're the only outlet we have at the moment, these guys have changed the rules of the game”
he said

The media crackdown was dictated by the leader of the 2006 military Coup, Interim Prime Minister, Commodore Frank Bainimarama. The coup was declared illegal by the Fiji Court of Appeal last week, resulting in President Ratu Josefa Iloilo anointing himself head of state, abolishing the 1997 constitution, sacking the nation’s judges and re-instating Bainimarama on Friday.

In the aftermath, local reporters were ordered to submit copy to the government for ‘clearance’ prior to publication and military censors were stationed in newsrooms to enforce the crackdown. Several Fijian media outlets protested the censorship, leaving dead air and blank pages where news bulletins and headlines about the crackdown should have appeared. The Sunday Times left a whole page blank apart from this message: “The stories on this page could not be published due to government restrictions.”

However, the IFJ reports that most organisations are no longer carrying political news and a “climate of silence” has gripped some newsrooms. The Fiji Times (owned by Rupert Murdoch's News Ltd) is reported to have joined other outlets in agreeing not to run any further political stories. Self censorship is a disturbing bi-product of direct intervention, desired by dictators in a climate of fear. But it takes very brave journalists and publishers to put livelihoods and lives on the line - despite the total unacceptability of such deliberate and unjustifiable attacks on media freedom.



Today, Bainimarama told Radio New Zealand that journalists themselves were to blame for the crackdown and free speech was a problem: “We want to come up with these reforms and the last thing we want to do is have opposition to these reforms throughout. So that was the reason we've come up with emergency regulations." When asked if NZ reporters were free to travel to Fiji and report what they saw, he said “There’s no need. Ask me the questions and I’ll tell you.” According to Bainimarama, Fiji doesn’t need free and open public discussion about current issues and the world doesn’t need to witness them.

His next nail in the coffin of Fijian media freedom was the shutdown of Radio Australia’s Fijian transmitters. This act, carried out by local ABC technicians under the ‘supervision’ of officials from the Office of Information and soldiers, eliminated one of the country’s last remaining sources of unfettered news and information.



The IFJ has issued a statement in solidarity with the Australian Media Entertainment & Arts Alliance, the Pacific Media Centre and other organisations, demanding the Bainimarama regime “immediately end all restrictions on Fiji’s news media and allow local and foreign journalists to do their jobs in the public interest.”

Today I added my signature to a letter condemning the media purge, penned by Queensland journalism professor Alan Knight, on behalf of a collective of Australian journalists and journalism academics. This was our central message:

“Soldiers and police have no place in any newsroom. We oppose the Fiji dictatorship's attempts to control our colleagues by threats, intimidation and censorship. We call on our governments to seek to protect all Fiji journalists striving to perform their duties in these difficult circumstances. As journalists and educators we affirm Article 19 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights”

Article 19 states: “Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers."

Bainimarama's clampdown under the new regulations theoretically has a 30-day lifespan. But Fijian media history, recent highlights from which include bannings, deportations, shutdowns, and the fire-bombing of an editor's home, doesn't provide much cause for hope that this latest assault on Fijian journalism will be short lived.

This is an issue which demands the attention and activism of journalists, free speech activists and academics worldwide. It deserves to make the headlines. Headlines which Fijian journalists have the right to write.    [read more]

The micro-blogging platform Twitter was the breakthrough social media tool for journalists in 2008. It became a pipeline for breaking news for both professional reporters and citizen journalists, with the massacre in Mumbai, the Hudson River plane crash and Obama's inauguration highlighting its effectiveness as a source of live, user-generated online content.

Journalists increasingly used it to cross-promote their own stories, comment on others, and connect with contacts outside their usual silos. Ultimately, mainstream media outlets from the New York Times to the BBC adopted it as a news feed service for story dissemination, and even journalism academics began joining the Twitter conversation. The potential of the platform as a vehicle for journalism education also became apparent when I began implementing it as an event-coverage training tool for my journalism students during the ACT election.

So, while Barack Obama tweeted his way through an historic U.S. election, my University of Canberra (UC) radio journalism students used Twitter as a political reporting device for live online election coverage. This resulted in both improved speed and clarity in writing, as well as a breakthrough engagement with democratic processes and political journalism by a generation of student reporters frequently cast as disengaged and averse to political news.

Joining the Twittersphere

For those of you who've managed to escape the recent media attention devoted to Twitter, a working definition: It's an interactive facility based on the open publication of messages 140 characters long. Instead of finding "friends," you accumulate "followers." Twitter identifies itself as "a service for friends, family, and co-workers to communicate and stay connected through the exchange of quick, frequent answers to one simple question: What are you doing?" It could also be described as a public sphere form of instant messaging, a global open chat room or, as I tweeted when I first joined the network in February 2008, "Isn't Twitter just Facebook status updates on steroids?" The language of Twitter describes users as "twits" or "tweeters" and the updates as "tweets" -- appropriately evocative of chirping birds. (The US-based PBS website devoted to the digital media revolution, MediaShift, also has published a guide to Twitter.)

Yes, I was sceptical about Twitter at first. Some of my ex-students convinced me to try it out and I later felt compelled to tweet with greater regularity when people began following my updates, but I frankly didn't see the point. Then I watched a fellow journalism academic tweet an



international communications conference in Stockholm last July, and it finally clicked. Twitter is a great way to note-take in instantly publishable form, making it perfect for live-blogging events. It's also reminiscent of radio news reporting which requires journalists to file headlines, or what are often known as "news briefs," from the field for instant broadcast.

Twitter is, I think, the closest a text-based form of journalism comes to a "live cross" -- a long-standing feature of broadcast journalism where a reporter files content, unfiltered, live to air. And that's how I started to use the platform -- as a way to publish news briefs from events I was observing or participating in, to share links to stories that infuriated or delighted me, to share entertaining life moments and Haiku poetry, to communicate about journalism issues with like minds (and those with alternative perspectives) around the globe, to connect with new people from within my industry and, increasingly, as a first base for news headline consumption from my favoured sources. Ultimately, Twitter displaced my RSS feeds and demanded my daily attention. Beware folks, it's highly addictive!

Tweeting the ACT election

UC's journalism students study only a few kilometres from the seat of federal government and the elite media hub that is the Canberra Press Gallery. At the University of Canberra, we have a reputation for producing job-ready journalism graduates with a capacity for original story-generation and critical thinking abilities but, like many journalism educators, we've found engaging Gen Y students in political reporting activities to be a challenge.

However, my background as a former member of the Canberra Press Gallery helps me persevere with the struggle and seek innovative and appealing ways to engage my students in political journalism. In the past, I've taken them to the Tally Room on national election nights to produce radio news reports for a community radio network as the vote counting unfolded. And, when the regional Canberra elections were announced last year, I was keen to do something similar. But time-constraints, logistical difficulties and security concerns made setting up an election-night post in the Canberra Tally Room for our online student publication NOWUC impossible.



Nevertheless, I managed to secure permission from the ACT government for 12 of my students to join the media throng in the Tally Room's live broadcast centre under my supervision. We were allowed to bring recording equipment into the arena to cover the event, but we were told we would not have access to desk space or Internet connectivity. So, instead, I turned to Twitter and mobile phones.

Getting the Students Twitter-Ready

I devoted one radio production class to training the students on the finer points of Twitter and getting them registered to use the platform. I first established a Twitter account connected to NOWUC (I'm the administrator of this Twitter page) to host the collective tweets on election night. I then got each of the participating students to create their own individual accounts, connecting them to their mobiles. The next step involved getting them to follow me, NOWUC and one another. I, in turn, connected my own accounts to theirs by following them.

Next, I devised traditional radio reporting assignments and allocated them to the students for election night coverage, with a view to producing and uploading longer form audio reports to NOWUC in the days following the election. Attempts to embed the Twitter feed to the NOWUC site failed, but we did install a link to the @NOWUC Twitter page which gave the main website the appearance of having a dynamic role in the election coverage process.

Interestingly, none of the students involved had used Twitter before and only a few were even familiar with its existence. Most, however, were Facebook addicts, and the idea of using a social media platform for journalistic purposes excited them. In fact, I saw news value just in the novelty of this reporting task, so I assigned some students to cover this Canberra election student tweet-a-thon as a story in itself. Challenge #1 -- getting the students interested in political reporting -- had been achieved, with the help of Twitter.

Election Night

Challenge #2 was election night itself, October 18, 2008. The plan went like this: Each student was assigned a Tweet Beat in the tally room. Some were attached to government desks, and some were dispatched to the Opposition parties' representatives. Others mingled with the voting public who'd gathered to watch the action, and the remainder stalked the main media outlets in the broadcast hub or went in search of "colour."

They were told to tag each of their tweets with #ACTelection08, using a hashtag so they could be aggregated by Twitter's search function. Each of the students was then paired in a traditional radio reporting duo to undertake their broadcast production assignments and they alternated between roles as tweeters and broadcast journalists.

Pic: Some of the UC Election Tweeters

I had toyed with the possibility of getting the students to value-add their tweets with photos or even video generated by their phones (using Twitter applications like Twitpic) but decided to keep our first Twitter reporting exercise as simple as possible - in the interests of both the speed of publication and the quality of learning.

Challenges and Obstacles

The actual process of tweeting proved logistically tricky. Given the direct link to a University of Canberra sponsored publication, I needed to filter the tweets before aggregating them on the NOWUC Twitter page in the interests of legal and ethical propriety. This was also an important part of the educational process -- teaching the students about the perils of live reporting. But this meant that I had to re-tweet (abbreviated as "RT") each and every student post manually via my iPhone, on which I'd installed the Twitterific tool -- one of several which works as an interface between Twitter and iPhones, avoiding the need to SMS posts. I edited the students' tweets only very minimally so as to downplay the "gatekeeper" role and, thankfully, I only had to intercept one potentially defamatory tweet. By the end of the night, I'd re-tweeted about 70 student news-briefs from the Tally Room via my phone and I had the Repetitive Strain Injury symptoms to prove it!

But there were other challenges as well. The students were using their personal phones to tweet, but the Twitter-based mobile phone interface available at the time required users to SMS posts to a UK number. That meant every Tweet counted as an international call and cost the student reporter approximately $1.00 dollar. Many of my students are cash poor and some had only limited credit on their phones, so they needed to tweet frugally.

Twitter's limit of 140 characters per post also posed significant journalistic challenges -- restricting students' capacity to use quotes and provide attributions and analysis, for example. Indeed, Twitter, like many social media applications, provides just as many opportunities for discussion on issues in journalistic ethics and practice as it does challenges to traditional news processes. I'll explore these issues, along with questions surrounding Twitter's use as an online "contact book" and pseudo wire service by the news media and citizen journos, in detail in my next post on MediaShift.

Great Lessons Learned

The content of the NOWUC Twitter feed reveals the diversity of student experience, talents and the lessons learned. Some tweets were pithy and witty, full of colorful political observations, while others were heavily fact based, like a a seat-by-seat count of election results. Some were clunky, while others were good examples of clarity and brevity in writing. Some students tweeted prolifically, others were slower and less productive.

For some, the highlight was meeting prominent politicians and broadcasters, while for others it was breaking a news tidbit ahead of the mainstream media. Many learned something new about the peculiar ACT electoral process and picked up fresh reporting skills. But, most importantly, they all thoroughly enjoyed the learning experience, describing it variously as "awesome," "a blast" and an "adrenalin rush." Although, admittedly, the biggest thrill of the night for most was probably gaining access to the National Press Club, the traditional watering hole of politicians, journalists and political apparatchiks -- where they continued to tweet the aftermath of the election, including Chief Minister John Stanhope's tentative victory speech.



Some of the lessons learned from this exercise included how to overcome the logistical obstacles outlined above. For example, I've since discovered a Twitter tool called Grouptweet which allows groups of connected users to post on a single Twitter page using a shared Twitter identity. This tool allows for public or private usage, meaning it can be locked down for training exercises or discussions about sensitive themes, or opened up to all comers for publication purposes, like the NOWUC Twitter election coverage.

Applying this tool in the election coverage scenario would have saved me from having to re-tweet all of my students' posts to group them @NOWUC, but it wouldn't have resolved the need to clear posts for legal and ethical reasons. As counter-intuitive to social media principles as it sounds, a Twitter tool that allowed for a hold to be put on such group tweets until cleared by a "super user" or group editor would be useful and more appropriate for professional journalistic application.

Twitter on the Air

Two of the student tweeters, Joe Sullivan and Michelle Fielding, produced a radio current affairs package about the role of Twitter in reporting and their experience covering the Canberra Tally Room.

"Our mission was to tweet...as the politics played out around us we were sent into a tweeting frenzy...We were embarking on a new journalistic dawn, competing against the traditional media outlets to break the news first," they reported.

This great piece of student audio production highlights the value of the Twitter election coverage experiment as a journalism training exercise. From this lecturer's perspective, the main benefits were in watching the students work as a reporting team, seeing their excitement as their tweets went "live," their amusement with the novelty of reporting using mobiles and social media tools and their willingness to "mix it" with prominent mainstream journalists, along with their rising interest in political reporting as the night unfolded.

"This isn't so boring after all!" they realised. Using these contemporary reporting tools helped bridge the gap between "digital natives" and traditional political reporting. And, it's a lesson worth repeating.

A version of this story first appeared at MediaShift    [read more]

Some journalism academics are possibly more scared of new technology and more resistant to change than the worst industry "dinosaurs”. But Web 2.0 has made getting online so simple that there are no more excuses for being disconnected. While some reporters see journalism education as a potential refuge from the rapid pace of change in the 21st century digital newsroom, j-schools should in fact be among the first places to adapt to technologically driven change if they're to train the journalists of tomorrow and remain relevant today.

I have been working to integrate blogs and other social media into my teaching, but traditional academia's inherent resistance to educational experimentation as well as fears around defamation litigation, autonomous student publication, and public relations fallout can make embracing the journalism of the digital age even more difficult in the classroom than in the newsroom.

Blogging about the digital transformation in J-Schools

I've just posted my first piece for the PBS-hosted website MediaShift on the application of social media tools in journalism education. I'm the new Australian "embed" for the publication which "tracks how new media -- from weblogs to podcasts to citizen journalism -- are changing society and culture" and I'll be posting regularly on my experiences of teaching and reporting in the digital media revolution. My main focus will be on my efforts as a journalism lecturer at the University of Canberra to adapt traditional radio and television reporting classes to suit the 21st century media environment which is, as most people reading this would likely acknowledge, increasingly online and increasingly interactive.



My professional journalistic background is as a news and current affairs journalist with a career concentrated at the ABC across radio and television, at the local and national levels. I've spent time as a news reporter and presenter, been a regional news editor, worked as a TV documentary reporter and as a national political correspondent. And, while the ABC now has an award winning online presence and a history of bi-media reporting, when I left for academia in 2003, traditional reporting outlets (i.e. radio and TV news programs) were still indisputably king, the online division operated remotely and separately from news and current affairs, and the digital revolution wasn't driving output as it is now.

So, like many journalism educators, I've found myself trying to navigate the revolution from the outside. The bulk of my "new media" knowledge has been learned through osmosis. I began my journalistic career as a radio reporter, so I'm used to being self-reliant and technology-dependent. I trained in the early 90s on digital audio and video editing programs and I'm more tech-savvy than your average journalism academic (and your average journalist, for that matter!) but I remain a self-described technophobe. I have to be pushed to adopt new technology and my IT skills are...well, let's just say thank goodness for the helpdesk!

Blogging Tweeting and Facebooking my way beyond 'new media' trepidation

I teach traditional, production-based TV and radio journalism courses at the undergraduate level but as a practitioner and teacher I thrive on interaction with my audience, students and fellow professionals. So, as technology has developed to allow for much simpler production of multimedia journalism (e.g. Soundslides) and delivered ready-made publication platforms like Blogger, my trepidation has dissipated and my interest in experimentation has increased.

I first dipped a toe into new media by starting this blog in mid-2007 after overcoming my own wariness. I see social media as the key to bridging the gap between the digital natives in our classrooms and those of us with more knowledge than skill in the digital media arena. Web 2.0 is a natural playground for "technically challenged" journalists and journalism educators seeking to cross the bridge into the digital media era and meet their young audience members and students in their own habitat. In addition to blogging (less often than I'd like) about politics, social justice issues, journalism, teaching, the highlights and lowlights of my life, I "Tweet", I "Facebook" and I fiddle with myriad other social media tools as a means of connecting globally with friends, students, professionals and strangers of like-mind -- along with those who challenge my views in an invigorating way.



My students got me hooked on Facebook in 2007, which I now use to interact with graduates and connect them to the professional journalists in my circle via my page. I also use the facetious Facebook "Appreciation Society" set up in my name by these same students as a place to link alumni and interact with current students. Twelve months ago, I attempted to establish a dedicated Facebook alumni page as well as a page for my third year bi-media course, but I ran up against institutional concerns about privacy. Late last year, the ACT Supreme Court, which sits just up the road from our campus, became the first jurisdiction to issue a summons via Facebook, so now I'm hoping the wildly popular social media site will be considered "safe" and establishment enough to use in my classroom.

Engaging students through social media

My blogging practice took a back seat to traditional academic research last year but it remained a useful tool for engaging students. Many students actively interacted with my blog by posting comments and responding to links on Facebook. Several told me they were inspired by my blog to start their own. But my blogging habits weren't viewed favourably by all in Australian journalism education circles, where the "blogging isn't journalism" mantra can still be heard and the news genre is still the main focus of teaching. One journalism lecturer told me "journalism academics shouldn't blog -- it sets a bad example for students." But this year, I intend to embed blogging in my curricula -- firstly as a platform for students' critical reflection of their own journalism practice -- as a companion for their other publication platform NOWUC. This website, which was quite innovative in Australian University terms when it was established as a multiple-media publication for student journalism in 2003, is about to undergo an overdue overhaul. I'll also be encouraging the students to each develop their own independent blogs as a way to help them to find their own voices and experiment more broadly with journalistic genres.

I've already begun using Twitter in my teaching, successfully experimenting with it as a live-blogging platform for my graduating radio students as they covered the ACT election in October, 2008. They were dispatched with mobile phones around the "tally room" on election night, mingling with national media, voters and candidates and had a "total blast," as one student put it, Tweeting on the vote count, the atmosphere, and getting live reaction from actors in the drama. (I'll assess this experiment in my next MediaShift post.) As part of my experimentation, I've tentatively set up a skeleton Youtube channel and an online radio station at Blogtalkradio for our broadcast students to begin cross-promoting their stories via social media. I also plan to investigate the use of other tools like Utterli in my teaching this year.



J-Schools no refuge from digital revolution

But while I'm excited about these developments as a teacher and a journalist, change needs to be effected via baby steps within my institution - as it is within many J-schools. It comes as no shock that former colleagues still entrenched in traditional newsrooms are seeking refuge in academia in an effort to avoid the freight train of change that is digital media. "How do I become a professor?" I'm often asked by journalists. Their reasoning is that universities are safe places for journalists, where time stands still on technology. They imagine journalism schools to be lofty places where they can continue their careers as public intellectuals while avoiding the pace of change, debating ideas in the abstract without worrying about the intrusion of the 'real world' - characterised by frenetic online developments in newsrooms and the replacement of traditional journalism jobs with tech-savvy multimedia producers. But the reasoning of these would-be escapees to academia is flawed. As much as I'd love more time to research, contemplate issues and contest ideas as an academic, the realities of 21st century higher education in Australia mean that a massive teaching and administration overload squeezes out room for research and significantly inhibits opportunities for professional practice, leaving even less time to keep up with industry change.

But students pursuing journalism degrees demand to be taught the professional skills that will get them hired. And while they may enrol in traditional journalism courses which are still often segregated into "print" and "broadcast," the industry demands that they emerge with a set of generic skills suitable for a digital newsroom -- such as an ability to incorporate audio and visual elements into multimedia productions -- in addition to specialist skills in one or two traditional areas and an understanding of the changing nature of the industry.

This reality means it's incumbent upon all journalism academics to now engage intellectually with these changes and develop skills in digital media practice -- it's no longer exclusively multimedia/digital journalism/new media academics who must undertake this work. In other academic fields, it's cutting-edge research that drives industry change, not the other way around. In a perfect world, journalism educators would not lag behind industry, but rather would be setting the pace for educational change in response to digital transformations. This would require keeping up with the dramatic changes affecting industry and enhancing traditional journalism courses through the integration of new media platforms which are both easy to use and increasingly driving the news consumption habits of our students.

As a time-poor journalism academic trying to undertake a PhD, pursue traditional academic research, teach labour-intensive production-based broadcast journalism units, stay connected with the profession, keep up a modicum of professional practice and act as career counsellor/job-placement agent for my students, social media platforms are both the easiest way for me to keep pace with industry change and the best tools for digitally enhancing the teaching of traditional journalism classes.

A version of this post originally appeared on MediaShift    [read more]

I put my recipe for culturally competent reporting to the test last night, at a Ramadan feast staged at the Canberra Islamic Centre.



There was competition for seats in the jam-packed community hall where hundreds of people gathered to break their fast at sunset. Traditionally, Muslims fast during daylight hours in the Islamic calendar month of Ramadan as an act of submission, solidarity, and to reflect on the suffering of others. The daily breaking of the fast is a time of replenishment, community and celebration. And yesterday was a particularly significant Ramadan date – many Muslims mark it as the day on which the Quran was revealed to the prophet Mohamed. So, a special feast was organised by the Canberra Islamic Centre and I was invited to attend by a young Muslim woman – a former student, Fatima Ahmed – to experience the event first hand.



My first impression was a revelation: it was essentially like a multicultural version of a Catholic Church-sponsored World Youth Day event I attended with friends in a Bungendore school hall earlier this year! It was a friendly and open crowd where people, speaking in their mother tongues and dressed in traditional finery, blasted away the stereotypical representation of Muslims as mono-cultural and ubiquitously veiled. They came from Asia, the Middle East, Africa and the Subcontinent. Young and old; men and women; family groups; friends and strangers; they talked animatedly as they jostled for space and waited for the call to prayer that would signal the end of the day’s fasting. Children sat patiently in front of their rosewater-infused lassis and individual plates of foods traditionally eaten to break the fast – predominantly dates and portions of fresh fruit.

Then came silence, with the signal of the call to prayer. A man with a beautiful, resonant, voice that filled the hall and sent shivers up my spine, began singing - arms raised heavenward: “Allah u akbah…” The prayer, recited in Arabic, is called the Adhan and it’s words are translated into English like this:

God is the greatest
I bear witness that there is no deity except God.
I bear witness that Mohamed is the messenger of God.
Make haste towards prayer
Make haste towards welfare
God is the greatest
There is no deity but Allah.

The words Allah u akbah (God is the greatest) have been associated in Western media discourse with the September 11th attacks, due to the adoption of the mantra by the terrorists as a call to battle. But last night, hearing those words sung was a soul-soothing, calming experience. The chant evoked peace, not hostility. When the prayer ended, the chattering resumed and people began eating the food on their plates. When this ‘first course’ was polished off, they made their way to the first prayers of the evening.




This is a progressive Muslim community on Canberra’s southern outskirts, but the prayers were sex segregated. The men prayed together in the main hall, while the women and children moved to a private prayer room. And I have to confess, it’s hard for me, a Feminist who, in a ‘previous life’, campaigned for women’s ordination and equality within the Anglican church, to accommodate such gender based separation – it makes me uncomfortable…personally and politically. But many of the women I spoke to last night appreciate the female solidarity and spiritual space provided by segregated prayer.






My reaction to sex-segregated food lines for the feast that followed was similar. But I had more trouble appreciating the benefits of this approach for women…their line was longer, swollen by the children in their ranks, and I couldn't help but ask the friends I was sitting with: “What would happen if I joined the male queue?” Although they encouraged me to feel free to do so, it was clear to me this would be perceived as provocative and potentially insensitive behaviour.

My young friend’s mother generously lined up and brought me a plate of delicious Iranian stews which I ate with my friends at a table where the conversation moved from the stuff of life, to politics and an academic discussion of Muslims and their relationship with the mainstream Australian media. The discussion was intelligent, thought-provoking and entertaining. Children ran back and forward from the table excitedly, and strangers came to meet and greet me. There was much laughter and I was warmly welcomed, being shown great courtesy and respect by everyone I met. I report this, not because I expected it to be otherwise, but because of the fears haboured by some, that such gatherings would be bastions of Islamic extremism.

After dinner, I joined the women in the prayer room for their next devotional session. After nearly inducing a heart attack in my friend, fellow writer and academic, Shakira Hussein, by absent-mindedly heading towards the door to the prayer room with my shoes on (I reassured her that, of course, I intended to remove my shoes in deference to tradition. But I suspect she still believes she narrowly averted a major faux pas committed by a journalist promoting culturally sensitive reporting :). I slipped off my heels and sat against the wall of the prayer room with camera in my lap. I was invited to photograph the women as they prepared to pray. While many of them don’t wear headscarves in everyday life, most of them choose to cover their heads for prayer. They lined up quietly, variously standing and kneeling in prayer on cue, with signals emanating from the men’s prayer gathering outside. At the back of the book-lined prayer room, children played quietly and posed for my camera.


There’s something beautiful about this style of prayer and devotion. It’s in the supplicant faces; the synergy of words and movement; the quiet unity.

Frequently, stories about terrorism are inter-cut with, or accompanied by, images of prostrate men engaged in Muslim prayer. And this constant association of religious practise and violence has undermined the peaceful nature of this basic devotional activity – the hallmark of daily lived religion for millions of Muslims around the world. I was glad to experience the sense of peaceful spirituality which accompanied these women as they prayed.

They met one more time for prayer before the social gathering in the main hall was replaced by a shopping bonanza, as market stalls were set up in the courtyard outside. There were brightly coloured and beaded kaftans and Salwar Kameez from Bangladesh, Pakistan and the Middle East; beautiful, soft pashminas; handmade leather shoes colourfully decorated with pom poms and embroidery.

And, in one corner were women queued for henna tattoos to be painted on their arms and hands. I’ve always admired the henna coloured swirls on other women's bodies, and I’d never be brave enough to get one done in permanent ink, so I joined the line and chatted with other women as I had my arm laced with paint. The tattoo I chose begins with a dove on my left forearm and heads down to the middle knuckle, flourishing with floral emblems, feathers and curls.
On my ultra-white skin, the orange ink is stark and beautiful in the light of day. I could get addicted to this beauty regime!

In my experience, and according to my research, the best way to subvert media stereotypes, and encourage culturally sensitive reporting, is to expose journalists personally to alternative perspectives, practices and experiences. At a human level, it’s much easier to empathise with people and circumstances through lived experience. Empathy breeds sensitivity, and insensitive reporting is a problem frequently highlighted by journalism scholars in connection with the coverage of complex social issues.

My aim, last night, was to briefly embed myself in Muslim ‘culture’ and experience the religious practice of this community. I thoroughly enjoyed the exposure and learned things about myself in the process. I was more unsettled by the sex segregation than I expected to be…it was confronting for this Feminist. But no where near as confronting as being told by the minister of my former church that I should stop asking impertinent questions during sermon Q & As. He also told my husband "It's time you learned to control your wife!".

There was open-mindedness, and tolerance expressed towards me by people with open hearts, last night. And my overwhelming feeling was of being embraced, rather than repelled. I felt joyful, rather than fearful on the long drive home.    [read more]

I’m celebrating my first bloggerversary – it’s exactly one year today since I uploaded my first post to J-scribe. So, it’s time to take stock and look to the future of this little Web 2.0 journalistic enterprise.

It began with a bang – well, more of an explosion of anger in text, really, in response to 11 years of Howard Government socio-cultural ‘retroform’ - and politics has proved an enduring theme here. Racism, xenophobia, issues of social justice (see also 'Begging for a Future'), national identity and culture, journalism(see also 'The ABC of Comedy' and 'Jihad Sheilas or Media Victims?'), sexism (see also 'The Shrew who Won't Be Tamed'), academia and social media have also regularly propelled my fingers to keyboard.

But J-scribe's also emerged as a repository for my musings on life, love (see also 'I do, I do'), loss (see also 'Over the Rainbow') and laughter (see also 'Spa-in Partners'). It’s part diary, part political column, part observational reporting and part academic reflection. And it’s 100% me…a sort of ‘me media’ platform that reflects the complex life, thoughts, ideas, passions, experiences, travels, adventures, domestic doings and observations of one woman.

J-Scribe was conceived with a prod from a fellow journalism academic; birthed in collaboration with my talented web-designing partner; cheered on by my network of friends, colleagues and former students on Facebook and it entered mainstream journalism through a story on web 2.0 political advertising during the Federal Election campaign.

This week I’ve spent a few hours looking back at some of my posts – tracking my life and the issues that pressed my buttons over the past year – and I’m proud of this flawed (but surprisingly entertaining - even if I do say so myself!) archive of my life. It’s personal, reflective, human, passionate, informed and, frankly, quite funny at times :) It demonstrates, through flurries and wanes in posting, the ebbs and flows of time and the lack of time I’ve had to devote to this project in recent months. It’s my attempt to engage – with issues, debates and ideas; with friends, colleagues, students and random visitors to my site who talk back and sometimes back-chat; with my desire for creative expression and with new models of journalism.

I was afraid of starting a blog for a number of reasons 1) I'm essentially a technophobe who needs to be pushed past her fears 2) I'd been influenced by the "blogging isn't journalism" brigade and my inner journo worried about issues of credibility and professionalism 3) Outside of the traditional publication and delivery mode of news, I figured I wouldn't find an audience and what's the point of talking to yourself?

But, in starting a blog I 1) discovered blogging and social media tools are a great vehicle for conquering a creative soul's technological trepidations, 2) quickly realised that journalists and academics can and should blog and that blogging can be a legitimate form of journalistic output 3) have not only found an audience (albeit a small one) but one that talks back! And that engagement (brief periods of vilification aside) has proved enriching - personally and journalistically.

My most recent Web 2.0 foray is into the world of Twitter - a micro-blogging platform that shares the frenetic pace, reactive tone and shrill pitch of birdsong. I resisted the temptation to Tweet (yep, it's a whole other lingo you need to get down with, folks!) until my (hollow) protests made me look like a twit (get it? :) and I feared my reluctance would lead me to be judged a twat (yep, hilarious with the puns aren't I?) So, for those of you with short attention spans, I'm now disseminating status-updates on steroids (limited to 140 characters) via Twitter whenever I feel the urge to share, and sharing there in other people's observations on news, life politics and society. Believe it or not, Barrack Obama started following my Tweets (don't get too excited, I suspect anyone with a Twitter profile that references both politics and journalism was a prime target!) and he's among the 50-odd fellow Twitterers I'm now following. These include micro-news posts from the New York Times, the ABC, PBS and the observations of a host of journalists, cartoonists, social media addicts and academics.

Blogging, Web 2.0, social media, Twitter, Facebook, citizen journalism…all these terms have one common theme – engagement and connectivity with citizenry. Traditionalists, fear-mongers and curmudgeons declare these modern communication tools and modes of journalistic practice hostile to quality, independent journalism - a threat that must be contained. But, rather than being viewed as the death knell for professional journalism, they need to be appreciated as an opportunity for journalists to connect with one another, with sources and with their audiences, in a way which has has the potential to broaden their reach, increase their status with audiences and empower communities. They are also essential tools for journalism educators seeking to connect with their students in a relevant, stimulating way.

I'd like to engage more deeply with these debates here and share some insights I've recently gleaned via experts in the field, but my life calls - so I need to sign off for now.

Before I go, though, here's my 'new bloggers-year' resolution: aim to enrich my posts with more audio-visual content and upgrade from plain old blogger to podcaster/vodcaster/vlogger. And your job is to keep feeding back. You can start by offering your assessment of a year in the life of J-scribe and bidding for the sort of content you desire.

Tweet ya later!    [read more]

Your clock's still ticking but time stands still here.

The dressing table tells your story - favourite cards; faded photographs; symbols of your faith; dried flowers from wedding bouquets; sentimental gifts and memories of yesterdays.

Outside, the birds still flock to the garden you loved. They wake me early.

On a lemon tree branch, a dove sits singing your song. A bittersweet goodbye.

The phone just rang. My sister was sobbing “She’s gone”. My grandmother had just died. Granny made chicken soup to comfort us and ward off the cold...I was making chicken soup when I took the call.

Mabel Elizabeth Sewell was an amazing woman who fought valiantly to live in the face of myriad illnesses that destroyed her body but left her mind and wit intact to the end. But it was time for the suffering to stop in her 90th year.

I'm crying tears of grief but also tears of relief. The grief is for my loss and the pain I watched her endure this week while sitting at her bedside. The relief is in her liberation from bodily struggle and the peace her spirit will now find.

She was like a second mother to me and my shelter in fierce storms. As a little girl, I climbed through the hole in the fence that separated our houses when I was unhappy or in need of a treat. As a teenager, her home was a refuge for my mother, sister and I when we sought escape from my violent stepfather. Whenever we landed on Granny's doorstep in search of safety, she would invite us in, envelop us in protective arms and share her strength - she had ample for all of us.

Grandma was comfort food and cosy flannelette sheets, favourite old books you never tire of reading, birds on the windowsill and a garden full of roses. Her home always smelled of baked dinners and pumpkin scones and I don’t ever remember feeling cold there.

She lived for her family and cared for her chronically ill husband with devotion and loyalty unsurpassed in my experience. Grandad died 22 years ago and she missed him terribly but she loved life too much to rush to join him.

Her home wasn’t her entire life: she had a rich social and work life…volunteering tirelessly for the Royal Blind Society and working as a Wollongong hospital aid known as a ‘mauve lady’ – her favourite colour. Her hospital job involved making patients and their carers as comfortable as possible…running errands, lending an ear and making cups of tea. Those years of devotion to others were repaid ten-fold in recent years by my mother who selflessly tended to her every need, but dependency caused by physical limitations didn't come easily to Grandma.

Grandma grew up in a tiny dairy farming town called Berry on the NSW South Coast and only left these shores once, on a trek to Papua New Guinea with Grandad to share his wartime experiences on the Kokoda Trail, but she was worldly-wise.

Pragmatic, diligent and thrifty, she was also the first environmentalist I knew – she was still recycling Alfoil and reusing tea bags up until a few months before her death. Her sharp wit and delight in laughter sustained her and kept the rest of us amused…and amazed. Even on her deathbed she was making quips during moments of clarity.

She had the spirit of a wartime heroine – plucky, opinionated, stubborn and courageous she was determined not to be beaten. She was so feisty she even staved off death which the doctors predicted would come much sooner than it did. She fought fiercely against so many illnesses – her biggest enemies being the vascular disease that long ago robbed her of her mobility and the cancer which she battled for 14 years.

She sucked joy out of life with every breath and tried courageously to mask the pain. But it was time for her to go…to join Grandad who she still missed so much two decades after he made his own journey to heaven.

And there she’ll wait for the rest of us…pain-free; making cups of tea; doing crossword puzzles and going for brisk walks with Grandad through gardens…picking roses without fear of thorns.

Musical Dedication: Longtime Traveller by The Wailin' Jennys Grandma    [read more]

I'm at the South African National Arts Festival in Grahamstown, South Africa. But I nearly didn’t make it. A fortnight before I left, in the wake of the outbreak of Xenophobic violence that claimed more than 60 lives, the Australian government issued a “do not travel alert” for all South African townships which my employer threatened to read as a total ban on travel to South Africa. They were, of course, concerned about my safety (as was my mother – don’t get me started!) which is measured via insurance risk.

Like most of the rest of the West, Australia sees South Africa through a distorted lens of crime, violence and political disappointment...in the dark, rather than up in lights. But I was determined to see a different country. This town, its people and this festival have offered me that perspective.

I’m in Grahamstown to work on the Rhodes University School of Journalism and Media Studies Cue journalism project which incorporates a daily newspaper, radio and TV output along with online publications and a pictures agency. It’s a remarkable series of productions – existing on blood, sweat and, from what I’ve observed, the requisite tension and gallows humour that go with deadline pressure and creative energy. Radio students are filing stories on social and political issues revolving around the festival, and emanating from performances, to a national audience on the SABC and collaborating with photography students to create multimedia output for online; TV students are vod-casting creative coverage of festival life; there’s a convergent blog being overseen by visiting academics from the Netherlands while contributing editors from established publications join Rhodes staff in burning the candle at both ends on the Cue newspaper produced every day of the 10 day festival. That’s my view of "Fest"(as it's known to it's attendants who are called "Festinos") from inside the Cue media production hub – prodigious effort; creative drive and loads of overtime. No wonder you lot won the Rugby World Cup!

My view from outside the walls of production is even more inspiring. I’ve seen performances that have stunned me, moved me, enthralled me, underwhelmed me and left cold…literally. The Dance Factory’s astounding production of Romeo and Juliet utterly enthralled me. It was the first event I attended at Fest and it set the bar very high. My heart pounded in tune with thumping feet, and plasticine bodies turned my head askew as this tragic love affair was played out on an understated stage. The star and choreographer, Dado Masilo, stunned me. She took the stage with a rare boldness – shaved, proud, head and bare feet that stomped out the rhythm of her soul.
Then there was Umrhube – Indigenous Music. What a spectacle! Traditional costumes, songs, dance and instruments merged in this raw, powerhouse performance which literally blew out a speaker! The joy and sense of celebration characterising this performance underscored the hope and resilience of South Africans as I’ve observed them.

At the other end of the spectrum is my most bizarre Fest experience - which falls into the “it’s so bad, it’s laugh out loud funny” category. Grahamstown “identity” Basil Mills’ creation, Impundulu, staged outdoors in freezing conditions by Dogs’ Dam, was a hoot! It had everything…from fire-eating to belly dancing (performed by the Lower Albany Turkish Delights who bravely combined sequined bra tops with thermals) and a children’s dance troupe. Don’t ask me what the story line was, but the objective seemed to be to incorporate every quirky act and character known to Grahamstown into a multicultural, mythical tale with absolutely no attempt to segue way seamlessly from one theme to another. It was…truly unforgettable.

But the major highlight of my visit was breaching the Australian government’s township travel ban. With the National Arts Festival as the backdrop, I made my way to the township ‘Kings Flats’ this week for the Australian Broadcasting Corporation in the interests of reflecting a different picture of township life to my country. I was taken to Kings Flats by Rhodes University student Asanda Ntame. Asanda, who is studying journalism in the hope of better representing his community’s interests, lives in Kings Flats with his extended family.

Despite the warnings and the statistical evidence of rampant crime and violence, my experience of visiting Kings Flats was ultimately inspiring. The poverty was visible – on the streets and in the simple character of the home I visited – but, as a foreigner, I was warmly greeted and welcomed. Children played on the streets, animals roamed freely, women washed together in their yards with stereos playing loudly. These were scenes far removed from the images of horrendous xenophobic violence Westerners have recently come to recognise as visual shorthand for township life in South Africa.

As Asanda Ntame told me “we are people just like Australians. We go about our daily lives here. People greet each other on the street. They love you, they want to get to know you. People need to remember that while other people may be different they are still people”. He described the Australian government’s travel ban applying to all South African townships as “ridiculous, based on a complete stereotype”. Every other South African I’ve raised this with concurs and that view is being reflected to the ABC audience in Australia.

During my visit to Kings Flats I was, however, struck by the absence of evidence of the festival that was enlivening Grahamstown in the valley below. I asked the shopkeepers I interviewed what their experience of Fest was. One of them, Mohamed Ali, a Pakistani refugee who fled the Free State after his shop was burnt to the ground four times in acts of xenophobic violence, said “I don’t even know Fest is on except when I go to town to buy supplies for my shop”. So life goes on as normal in the townships that wrap the hills of this city I’ve grown to love and respect in the few short weeks I’ve been here.

Despite its crazy weather, Grahamstown, with its quiet pre-fest streets and dilapidated colonial architecture, the many friendly people I’ve met, and the way the festival has absorbed and entertained me – from the main stage to the Village Green which showcases arts and crafts - have gotten under my skin. I heard Africa infects people like that…evidently, I’m not immune. People in Australia were worried I wouldn’t make it home alive. I will make it home alive…more alive than ever.

Note: A version of this article first appeared in Cue newspaper on July 5th, 2008    [read more]

I felt myself leaning forward in my seat as the cast of Rome and Juliet backed-up on stage in step with grief. The Dance Factory’s astounding performance of Shakespeare’s classic tragedy on show at the National Arts Festival in Grahamstown, South Africa, is literally enthralling.

Passionate performances with sweat-inducing energy are underscored by raw recordings of Vivaldi and Bach interspersed with evocative silence. My heart pounded in tune with thumping feet and plasticine bodies turned my head askew as this tragic love affair was played out on an understated stage.

While the troup entire is inspiring, the energy and passion behind this production is personified in its star and choreographer, Dada Masilo. The winner of the 2008 Standard bank Young Artist Award for Dance, 23 year old Masilo began attracting attention as an eleven year old jiver in the Joburg township where she grew up.
When she takes the stage now, it’s with a bold rawness – shaved, proud, head and bare feet that stomp out the rhythm of her soul.

She told Cue Radio “A lot of people get to see the work that I’ve made and I think that it’s gonna push me also in a different direction in terms of exploring, how to make work and choreography. It’s gonna help me grow as a dancer and choreographer. I’m just going with the flow, I’m letting what I do guide me I don’t really have any expectations at this point, I’m just going with my passion.” And that passion takes its audience hostage.

This a a powerful woman who delivers a powerhouse performance in a production with such heart that it left me shivering and drew me to my feet, along with many others in the audience at its conclusion.

I’m already looking for an excuse to enjoy an encore performance of Romeo and Juliet. Don’t miss it...if you're in the land of biltong and boerewors!    [read more]

Poverty is in your face in South Africa.

When you step off the plane you are immediately confronted by people begging – open hands; scams at the ready; people offering to carry your bags, watch your car, watch your back.

My experience of this poverty is grounded in Grahamstown – a city of 70,000 with 70% unemployment and a community divided between the affluent mostly white residents of a pretty, historic town and the black masses who live in the Apartheid-era townships that sprawl across the hills on the city’s fringe.

Sure, I’ve been exposed to beggars and abject poverty before – homelessness and drug-related crime are significant problems confronting Australia’s big cities and many other global cities I’ve visited. But it’s the scale, age and colour of the poverty that confronts and challenges you in South Africa. The problem looks exclusively black. Young children and teenagers approach you with folded bits of paper and elaborate stories – “I’m raising funds to go to a track meet in Cape Town”; “Please mother can you help me? I fight the good fight” - appealing to your compassion and sense of social justice. And, they frequently work in pairs or teams, targeting those of us with pale skin, cars and other marks of affluence in this divided society.

The knowledge that it’s this widespread poverty that fuels the extraordinarily high rates of violent crime in this country affects my responses. I find myself feeling fearful and defensive when alone on the streets. I walk quickly; eyes alert; lock the car doors while driving. I’m annoyed with myself for behaving this way – but this defensiveness is not just the product of hysterical media coverage. The statistics on rape and murder in this country are genuinely alarming and demand self-preserving behaviour. SA has the highest rate of reported rape in the world; violent assault and murder are associated with petty theft; and crime figures released last year revealed that people were less safe in their homes in some districts than on the streets due to a sharp increase in home invasions.

But fearfulness also fuels a climate which subjects the bulk of law-abiding black residents of this town to suspicion. I heard a moving piece of reporting about this experience from a black student here at the Rhodes University School of Journalism and Media Studies. He produced a radio monologue in which he described what it felt like to be a poor alien in his own town. To him, Rhodes was a world far removed from his own life in the township on the fringe. Here, he said, everyone has a car; food to eat and basic needs fulfilled. To him, life on campus was like a wealthy parallel universe to his own existence and experience of life in Grahamstown. His voice cracked when he talked of being confronted twice by the “Rhodes Police” (campus security guards who patrol the grounds) who assumed he was a threat because he was dressed like a township resident. He felt like a criminal because he was poor and didn’t easily fit into the affluent and prestige-conscious Rhodes community. This experience clearly angered and unnerved him. The humiliation in his voice was palpable.

Poverty alienates. Poverty allows crime to thrive and drives fear. Here, poverty is inescapable but its victims are too frequently made to feel invisible. They’re there in the statistics and the media sub-texts, but their voices are too rarely heard. Next time I’m asked for money, I shall ask for a name and a story in return.    [read more]

I’ve never been so stimulated in a public toilet. Get your mind out of the gutter! I mean intellectually. There I sat…on the loo, reading quotes about journalism from Nelson Mandela and Oscar Wilde inscribed on bathroom tiles that covered the walls of the cubicle.

The toilets in question are housed in an extraordinary building in a provincial city in the poorest region of South Africa. The Africa Media Matrix is home to Rhodes University’s School of Journalism and Media Studies in Grahamstown.




Built at cost of 26 million rand (approximately A$4million), and on the back of extraordinary vision, it melds state-of-the-art technology with African culture and journalism history. And wittily, at times irreverently, it tells the story of South African media struggles and champions media freedom through clever interior design that makes you gawp…particularly while using the ‘facilities’.



Let’s start the tour back in my favourite toilet cubicle…yes, I have a favourite loo here. It has tiles that quote both Nelson Mandela the founder of the Rainbow Nation and Matt Drudge – the founder of online gutter journalism. Mandela’s tile reads: “Freedom of expression is not a monopoly of the press: it is a right of us all”… appropriately, Matt Drudge’s says: “I go where the stink is”.

I was busted by a student while photographing these tiles. She said: “Wow, I’ve never seen someone take a picture of a toilet before”. I responded with the obvious: “I’m Australian”. She looked at me with judgemental understanding. Australians are the butt (a little toilet humour :) of many South African jokes. Another tile quote from Alfred Eisenstaedt seems appropriate at this s-bend (yep, more toilet humour!): “When I have a camera in my hand, I know no fear”.



OK, let’s leave the loos and take a walk around the building. In the vibrantly coloured foyer is a Venda drum – made of clay, its skin-covered top is gonged to announce functions and gather staff and students. It sits beneath a mosaic wall which spells “news” in sign language and Braille. This wall houses video screens that channel student-productions, promote the School’s activities and carry and news from around Africa. Tall tables used for feasts and talk-fests are also covered in mosaic tiles portraying proof-reading symbols and carrying more inspiring quotes from journalism history, including this one from the crusading anti-Apartheid editor, Donald Woods, who was forced into exile in 1978: “Why was I, a fifth-generation white South African, Editor for 12 years of one of the country’s longest established newspapers (Daily Dispatch), escaping in disguise in fear of political police?”



Media Freedom is a major theme of this building. Behind the reception desk hangs a cloth printed with section 16 of South Africa’s constitution which guarantees free speech. Elsewhere in the building, curtains are printed with the text of Article 19 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights: "Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers" ; a copy of the 1991 Windhoek Declaration, which called for an independent, pluralistic and free press, hangs on a wall; and newspaper flyers and front pages relay flashpoints in South Africa’s struggle for democracy and an unfettered media.



The tea room is a slice of 1950’s activist journalism - it’s a tribute to Drum magazine, the publication which gave a platform to many influential black journalists including Nat Nakasa, who wrote: “The writer can make his choice. Bow to the social conventions and the letter of the law and keep within the confines of the white world. Or, refuse to let officialdom regulate his personal life, face the consequences and be damned”. Nakasa suicided while exiled in New York in 1965.



But this building isn’t just about symbolism and story-telling: here, art intersects with state-of-the-art technology. Colourful baskets woven from telephone wire adorn one wall of the foyer – they’re strung with a piece of thick blue high-speed cabling that represents the 35km of the stuff that weaves throughout the building, making it the ‘fastest’ edifice in Africa. This is contrasted with quirky wire radios, made by a local trader, which are triggered by sensors near the entrance to the radio studios. The building also houses a television studio and production labs adaptable for convergent journalism operations. They’ll be in full swing later this week when the AMM becomes the hub of radio, print, TV and online coverage of the National Arts Festival.





And the high-tech isn’t restricted to the building’s interior. Wrapped around the exterior is a Times Square-style electronic ticker which transmits local headlines to the Rhodes community. Yes, it’s totally OTT, but it laughs in the face of Africa’s tech-challenged, disconnected status and brashly signals the readiness of this institution to meet the future head-on.



Juxtaposed against the ticker is a rusty pre-World War One printing press which decorates the garden. Visitors are invited to cross the garden via stepping stones made from brick tiles extracted from the floor of Grocott’s Mail – the oldest independent newspaper in South Africa. The paper is now owned and operated by this journalism school and used as a training facility for its students. Shredded Grocott’s printing plates are woven around pots at the building’s entrance and, back inside, old printing blocks and trays from the paper decorate the walls. This is a building that looks to the future without forgetting the past.

Eight degrees and more than a dozen outreach-projects are driven by the people of the AMM. There are some 50 staff and over 500 full-time students attached to this place and at the healm is the zeal behind the AMM, Head of School, Prof. Guy Berger.



Other AMM highlights include:

• Teardrop shaped lampshades made from woven 16mm film that light the internal stairwell



• The TV camera and tripod in the foyer painted in bright, traditional design by an Ndebele artist
• The banner at the entrance to student computer labs which bears the image of Thoth, the Egyptian god of writing, made from bottle tops
• The confidence of the building: it screams the successes of its occupants and graduates with their achievements and outputs proudly championed on its walls.    [read more]

While thousands of immigrants sheltered in pseudo refugee camps in Johannesburg, I ran the gauntlet between the international and domestic terminals in a city riven by violence.

I arrived in South Africa four days ago - trying to pretend I wasn’t afraid. Fear is the stuff of life here. I’d been warned – about rape; AIDS; Joburg airport gangs; car-jacking; being murdered for my mobile phone; home invasions; xenophobic violence. Only a week before I left, the violent attacks on immigrants that claimed over 60 lives in South Africa, threatened to ground me as Australia's Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade (DFAT) issued a ‘do not travel alert’ for Joburg entire and all SA townships. The central piece of advice I’d received was “whatever you do, don’t leave Joburg airport”.

So, when it became apparent that I’d have to collect my luggage and walk between terminals, amidst a construction zone, to catch my connecting flight upon landing in Joburg, I felt obliged to be scared. And I was apprehensive. But even before I got off the plane, I felt more alive.

Welcome to Africa – land of contradictions that swallows your soul whole and makes you bend to its desires.

I’m here for 5 weeks to work on a journalism project at Rhodes University in the sleepy provincial city of Grahamstown which bursts alive during the South African National Arts Festival. But I’m also here on a personal journey…to push my boundaries, challenge my preconceptions and confront my fears.

Grahamstown is home to approximately 50,000 people - only 6,000 of them white – where the scars of Apartheid still require acute care. It’s home to a world-class university; several prestigious private schools and many churches. But the city is crippled by seventy percent unemployment; rampant poverty and governmental neglect.

It’s also a town whose landscape bears a striking resemblance to my own little village of Bungendore via Canberra. Rolling hills, colonial architecture, even gum trees appearing in the Rhodes grounds unexpectedly between the flaming aloes that colour the bush. But there the similarities end. Here, life is cheap and the battles for justice which found their armoury in this Eastern Cape region during the Apartheid years are not yet over.

I’m writing this at the end of National Youth Day on June 16th – a day which commemorates the anniversary of the 1976 Soweto student uprisings. On that day about 200 young people gave their lives in a protest against forced instruction in Afrikaans which turned violent when security police opened fire on the uniformed students. Ahead of the protest, one student wrote in The World newspaper: "Our parents are prepared to suffer under the white man's rule. They have been living for years under these laws and they have become immune to them. But we strongly refuse to swallow an education that is designed to make us slaves in the country of our birth”.

Tonight the anniversary is marked by poignant advertisements on the SABC in which little children say they dream of a day when they don’t have to fear rape and murder and xenophobic violence. It’s a wake-up call for dreamers like me who would like to believe Nelson Mandela’s Rainbow Nation vision is still an achievable reality. But the extraordinary capacity of South Africans to laugh in the face of adversity, and persevere in the presence of hardship, provides real inspiration and gives this interested observer hope.

As I explore this city and the township on its fringe, Joza, listening to myriad voices and looking below the surface dirt of violence, crime and poverty that stereotypes South Africa, I'll do my best to pedal that hope to you.    [read more]

I have a confession to make…I wear Britney Spears’ “designer” scent. There, I said it. Embarrassed for me? So am I! But before you judge me too harshly, consider the power of this little pink bottle (diamante encrusted, of course) of “Fantasy”.

I have been chased out of lifts, poked insistently in the chest, and watched women, noses imitating Bewitched, cross the room to demand I identify my scent. I usually pretend I can’t remember: “Not sure, sorry. I think it’s in a pink bottle” in preference to confessing my association with the celebrity tabloids’ favourite delinquent mummy.

But this weekend I gave in when two women tapped me on the shoulder and asked, like kids in a lolly shop, “What is that delicious smell? It’s like chocolate mixed with vanilla and jasmine…yum!” I tried to deflect them, but they were persistent and my efforts, futile. I coughed “Britney Spears” into my hand and cringed, awaiting their reaction. Their response: “Who cares? You smell divine!” When I walked past them out of the gallery we were cruising, one of them said “You’d better be careful or some man will come along and eat you up, you smell so good”. "Britney" has apparently entered my bloodstream: I flicked my hair over my shoulder and quipped, “He can be my guest”. “Good for you!” they cheered.

So, what’s so special about this perfume named for the chanteuse my eight year old niece calls Britney Smears without a hint of irony? It’s not particularly pricey; it’s marketed to teenage girls; and it’s incredibly gimmicky…but it does smell edible. An Elizabeth Arden production, it has the backing of an established cosmetics house. They describe the fragrance like this: “Fantasy unfolds with lush red lychee, golden quince and exotic kiwi. It continues with the scents of cupcakes, sexy white chocolate (white chocolate is sexy? JP) orchid and jasmine petals and draws to a close with the scents of creamy musk, orris root (what’s an orris? JP) and sensual woods.”

So, that explains it! I smell like a cupcake…which makes sense. I’m drawn to cupcakes…something about the colourful icing, customised toppings, petite sizing, and those little paper wrappers they nestle in. Case in point: my favourite PJ’s are fuchsia flannelette, coated in chocolate cupcakes and the message: “I’m the cherry on top”. More silly than sexy, but if smelling like a cupcake equates with magnetism…

For the record - I also own and wear other similar smelling, but vastly more sophisticated (read for: over priced), scents.

And, no, I’m not on Britney’s payroll! (Britz: best send those free samples to my PO Box)

“Ooops, I did it again…”

Note: I wanted to write something about Zimbabwe or Rudd’s first hundred days in office but I’m down with the flu and a head full of phlegm means a mind ill-equipped to deal with anything deeper than cupcake-scented whimsy. So, you’ll just have to make allowances.    [read more]

It was billed as a gab-fest and a platform for Prime Ministerial egotism by a nay-saying Opposition, but the main achievement of this weekend’s 2020 summit in Canberra was listening.

In the face of growing political apathy and community expressions of disenfranchisement, Kevin Rudd decided it was time to acknowledge Australians’ right to be heard. And, in a move even the cynics have acknowledged as a deft political act, he gathered 1002 community representatives at Parliament House to harness ideas and crystal ball-gaze.

There were disagreements and disappointments expressed at the end of the two-day future summit but there was also a palpable sense of community-building and
democratic engagement…along with several big ideas.

Among these ideas was the revival of the Australian Republic, with a five year transition from a constitutional monarchy proposed, along with a review of the taxation system and an overhaul of Federalism, with a view to streamlining state-state relations. Improvements to Freedom of Information access in the interests of more open and transparent governance; constitutional recognition of Indigenous rights in the Constitution; automatic voting enrolment at 18; and a plan for a youth volunteer corps which would allow university students to work off their HECS (Higher Education Contribution Scheme) debt through social service, were some of the other propositions.

Some of these are old ideas given new breath – including the proposal to refer to Aboriginal Australians in the preamble of the Constitution, which was controversially proposed by John Howard in the dying days of his government. But there were fresh ideas too – including a bold scientific goal to develop a bionic eye (to mirror the Australian achievement of the cochlear ear) by 2020 as a cure for blindness and the plan to fund cheap loans for the poor – an idea which won corporate backing before the convention concluded with a National Australian Bank delegate putting $30 million dollars on the table when it was proposed by World Vision’s Tim Costello.

There has been some criticism that the delegates were restricted to, and influenced by, a Rudd Government agenda and it’s true there was a preponderance of Labor representatives, but there was bi-partisan political input too – with Malcolm Fraser and Tim Fisher among the delegates. There were also senior representatives of corporate Australia mingling with anonymous community members who’d come to contribute their ideas.

Yes, there was a degree of predictability about the selections – for example, the ABC old guard was represented by the broadcasters Phillip Adams and Geraldine Doogue along with Managing Director, Mark Scott. It was good to see journalist Leigh Sales there, but where were the Triple J delegates? Indeed the absence of a strong youth voice at the convention (a separate youth summit was held the preceding weekend) and the side-lining of youth issues were valid criticisms levelled against organisers. Prominent youth worker, Father Chris Riley lamented the downplaying of what he termed the continuing crisis of child sexual abuse in Australia.

But despite its obvious limitations, the 2020 summit was a vehicle for social inclusion – not only for the delegates, but for the thousands of Australians who tuned into the two-day deliberation which was broadcast live on Sky News and ABC 2 with cameras in every session, capturing debate, consensus and disagreement in an innovative exercise in listening to the national voice.

The importance of listening in public conversation has been highlighted for me an academic context in recent weeks as I've embarked on research (in collaboration with Jacqui Ewart from Griffith University)about the motivations and experiences of talkback radio listeners and callers who are, in effect, saying to broadcasters and the power-brokers they influence: "We listen to you, you should listen to us!". I also attended a seminar at the University of Technology in Sydney last week on the theme of listening in the context of journalism and Multiculturalism. I spoke and listened to a number of other academics, community workers, journalists and translators about notions stemming from the media theorist, Charles Husband's, concept of the "right to be understood". In a stimulating discussion (during which I was conscious of talking far too much!:) we considered the implications for the media of an audience which increasingly demands not only the right of reply, but the right to be listened to and understood. This concept has real resonance politically, too, and I think the electoral desire for social connectedness and agency is what Kevin Rudd is successfully tapping into. The PM is being seen to listen and the 2020 Summit was a vehicle for a two-way national conversation.

For this 2020 observer, it was also inspiring to hear the social-justice underpinnings of the new government’s policy agenda through politicians speaking candidly and often off-the-cuff about their ideals and motivations. Housing and Status of Women Minister Tanya Plibersek’s address to the Community and Social Cohesion stream she co-chaired was a case in point for this observer. She spoke with passion about the need for people to feel connected to one another and her belief that “birth should not be your destiny”, telling the story of a woman from her electorate who gave birth to a girl on the same day the MP had her daughter, in the same ward of the same hospital. She pointed out that the two children went to the same early childhood centre and would attend the same infants school but their life prospects were vastly differentiated because the other girl’s mother was a crack addict. She finished by putting poverty alleviation on the agenda and quoting the South American Bishop, Helder Camara, who said: "When I give food to the poor, they call me a saint. When I ask why the poor have no food, they call me a Communist."

It’s early days for the Rudd Government and this national conversation has only just begun, with the real test being at the stage of policy development and implementation. And, yes, the 2020 summit may ultimately be recorded as little more than an early example of a savvy political stunt. But the good news is, the Rudd rhetoric isn’t just rhetorical…this government appears to have a genuine interest in purposeful listening. This was a view echoed by one Aboriginal delegate from Western Australia who, when asked about the failings of the gathering, told media at the summit that he was just glad his black voice was finally being heard after 12 years of being ignored by the Howard Government.

Note: The Prime Minister has announced he’ll be opening up the 2020 website to continue the dialogue about the future with the broader community. So don't be shy!    [read more]