Dear X,
Recently scandalized on a minute scale by right-wing fringe bloggers and 10-watt conservative talk-radio shows because of a number of my columns, I found myself encountering our First Amendment and all of its responsibilities and pressures head on.
Much to my surprise and bewilderment, there are many people outside of our college community who read the Ed/Op page of The Daily Collegian and seem to have a real vested interest in what is said by the columnists who write for it.
I am elated that a whole community outside of our own is interested in our newspaper. I feel honored to have a diverse group of people read my writing and feel affected by it; however, there is a major responsibility and danger that comes with having the job of handing out your opinion.
That is why I have written to you today, X, to pass on some major advice to you or anyone wishing to navigate the sometimes-dangerous territory that columnists tread by choice. I'm not attempting to crown myself King of the medium; I still have much to learn myself, but its part of my job to keep people from making the same mistakes I've made. You can be diametrically opposed to me and everything I write about (I hope that is the case for at least some of you, or else I'm out of a job), but there is no denying that what I learned by falling flat on my face will help you, so I humbly ask you to consider my letter.
You have to fight for your readers.
Why am I a writer? I have some kind of crazy idea that what I have to say needs to be said and no one else can say it just like me. Every time I want to give up and let some hack take my spot to write about the religious denominations of each player of the Red Sox, I think about what would happen if my story wasn't told, if my angle wasn't considered. The emptiness of that missed opportunity should make you want to jump out the window. If it doesn't, you don't have any business writing.
If you don't have the intention of completely arresting your readership every single time you write something, then you won't and no one will read a thing you say ever again. Sound scary or even paranoid? Perhaps a little. You'll be read again, but you have to believe you won't in order to have the urgency inside of you needed to say what needs to be said. Since I don't have the experience or authority to teach a class on this, you'll have to learn arresting tactics by trial and error. You'll know how well you did when your friends talk about your latest piece without you asking for their opinion.
Anticipate destruction.
When I was a teenager writing for a small magazine with my friends in high school, my mother imparted unto me a reality of publication: whatever you write takes on a life of its own and its message can be twisted, misunderstood and warped from its original intention - so much that it can terrify and surprise you. I accepted that reality and I continue to live through it as I mature with my writing.
That being said, some of your writing is just not fit to print. I don't know a single young writer who doesn't cringe when looking back on some of the things they've printed, myself included.
In converse, you have to beware of your own vitriol. As someone who is completely devoid of all diplomacy, I see sugar-coating or watering down of one's words or ideas as the enemy, and as a result, I can sometimes step over the line which determines what is "offensive." I always laugh at the idea of "offensiveness" and that's why I still have a lot of learning to do, but the fact remains that by putting your thoughts out there, you will invariably offend someone. That means you are doing your job. It also means that you have to decide how much you want to deal with the consequences.
You will be threatened.
While standing up for yourself, you will face threats of violence and death. I didn't believe this until I received phone calls, emails and even one hand written letter threatening to kill me. I have been followed to classes and harassed in the dining commons (thanks, dish guy). It's frightening, but I knew that I somehow chose that result by being unafraid to say exactly what I want. Freedom of Speech is a lie, not a law. Just do as Jenny said to Forest, "run away," but don't stop writing.
You can't stop, X, I know it and so do you. Only when you let others take away your voice are you a real failure, and that's the golden rule.
With love,
T.P.N.
Be the first to comment on this article!