
	by Lisa Romero
	September 26, 2011
	
	from
	
	OpenSalon Website
	
	 
	
	I am lately reminded of an assignment when my 
	metro editor sent me to cover a “gentle protest” over the Gulf War of the 
	1990s in Jackson, Mich.
	
	 
	
	(Don’t remember that war - or what it was about? 
	That’s OK - because it was probably “security” and “oil,” and 
	George W. 
	ultimately righted his dad’s failure to see that war action through to its 
	completion: killing Saddam Hussein, or at least dismantling his government. 
	But I digress.)
	
	It was an after-hours event, likely on a weekend (as that was my beat). And 
	when I arrived at the designated time, well after sundown, I found one lone 
	woman walking the length of a wall at an armory or similar government-type 
	outpost with, not a flashlight, but a real, flickering candle. Back and 
	forth, in the dark, trudging in the snow.
	
	No one else had shown up - except me, that is. 
	
	 
	
	The place was deserted and, 
	as I recall, not on a busy road. I actually had to drive by twice before I 
	even saw her candle and a small chair she set up for herself when she got 
	tired. It occurred to me that, if I walked away, it would have been the same 
	as if she’d never been there at all. Yet, incontrovertibly, there she was: 
	protesting a war that, at the time, no one was particularly riled up about. 
	It wasn’t a story, really.
	
	But I decided to speak with her anyway. I walked with her for about an hour 
	and asked questions. Apart from understanding that my editors expected my 
	story for the next day’s edition, I also sensed that there could be a story 
	to tell - and that, if I didn’t, no one might ever consider an opposing view 
	that, while solitary, might be worth listening to.
	
	I’d have to dig through years of clips to find that story now. (I’m sure it 
	resides in the Jackson Citizen Patriot morgue). But it’s not the story 
	that’s important to me now.
	
	It’s that I covered it at all - and that my editors were grateful I did. And 
	that readers seemed to value the fact we were there to capture a moment in 
	their community they would otherwise not have known about.
	
	MORE THAN A WEEK AGO, a small band of peaceful protesters descended on 
	Zuccotti Park (formerly Liberty Park) in New York City, not far from Wall 
	Street. They dubbed their little movement “Occupy Wall Street.” 
	
	 
	
	And, on the 
	first weekend, starting Sept. 17, they had quite a number of people join 
	them in marches and speeches that essentially claimed the 99% of Americans 
	who aren’t the 1% of uber-rich are disenfranchised - and have critical needs 
	related to unemployment, cost of living, and a range of other social issues 
	that are either being ignored outright or largely swept under the rug by our 
	finance-focused government.
	
	These young people, accompanied by like-minded Xers and a few Boomers, 
	didn’t get much coverage to start. (I doubt any authentic movement, at the 
	outset, ever does.) 
	
	 
	
	
	
	The media that did arrive briefly aired the same 
	complaint: 
	
		
		“They are a loosely organized group of disaffected youth who are 
	more like hippies and have no real goal,” they yawned. “Nothing to see here, 
	but we’ve done our job by ‘covering’ it in our blogs,” they seemed to say to 
	New Yorkers and anyone outside the Big Apple paying attention. “This too 
	shall pass.”
	
	
	The only problem is, it hasn’t. And I suspect after this weekend, it isn’t 
	going to.
	
	Now in its 10th day, protestors are very much entrenched at Zuccotti Park 
	(with people across the United States and around the world watching their 
	activities via live-streaming video, as well as sending them supplies and 
	money, even pizza via local vendors). 
	
	 
	
	This past Saturday afternoon, there 
	was a large march to Union Park, through Washington Square (and, at times, 
	through moving traffic - which was pretty incredible to watch in real time) 
	- and all seemed to be going well with chants and songs as the trek was 
	covered by Occupy Wall Street’s new media team, such as the young woman Net 
	followers dubbed “50/50 Anchor Lady,” with hair that was half blonde, half 
	brownish-black.
	
	As I say, all was well - that is, until a phalanx of NYC police moved in and 
	started making mass arrests. 
	
	 
	
	Twitter was the only way most of us knew it 
	actually happened; the media team, scarily, was picked off shortly after the 
	march gained momentum near Washington Park.
	
	It’s not like no one was aware the police were coming. I myself could hear 
	what was going down on the police scanner, which I alternately monitored 
	while toggling back and forth between live-streaming and searching for news 
	updates on Google.
	
	The tension was building - you could feel it while watching from hundreds of 
	miles away as the protestors kept dodging orange fencing and an increasingly 
	ominous presence of officers. The marchers were peaceful - but resolute in 
	their efforts to keep marching.
	
	Then, right in the thick of things, the live-streaming ended just before the 
	mass arrests and some disturbing instances of outright police brutality 
	(documented and later distributed via cellphone photos). 
	
	 
	
	But, I should note, 
	not before the world had already witnessed some of those protestor/cop 
	encounters. It was shocking, actually, to watch people pushed with real 
	force or slammed to the ground when, to my eye, they hadn't provoked 
	anything remotely requiring that kind of police-state response.
	
	I had been one of the hundreds, then thousands, to witness the march from 
	nearly beginning to end - and that was not how I’d expected things to turn 
	out. But, almost on cue (as if to underscore the government's fear this 
	would spread), things escalated quickly and publicly in the glaring view of 
	the Twitterverse, very likely to the chagrin of the NYPD, Michael Bloomberg 
	and anyone on Wall Street who didn’t want this little movement to earn 
	attention or gain credibility.
	
	Within a matter of minutes, thousands of people were logging into the 
	live-streaming site or retweeting the police presence. 
	
	 
	
	Yet, the media still 
	weren’t covering the event, except as an aside, almost. I recall the Village 
	Voice reported on several key tweets from Occupy Wall Street - laudable in 
	providing “real time” updates, but I never could tell if they sent an actual 
	reporter to the site at the time. (Back in the day, my own editors would 
	have pushed me out the door. And sent back-up reporters.)
	
	Not to be flip, but if 60-80 people were arrested for dog-fighting, or for 
	wrangling outside a tony nightclub, or protesting at the United Nations, 
	that might have gotten coverage. I’m pretty sure that would have received 
	some attention. 
	
	 
	
	But this: In my humble opinion, it got very little. 
	
	 
	
	Some, 
	finally - but people had to be hurt, and the police department's reputation 
	tarnished, when neither was necessary if the media were operating as it 
	should.
	
	Since then, media coverage has been defensive. (Said one reporter, and I’m 
	paraphrasing here: “It’s not fair to say Occupy Wall Street hasn’t been 
	covered.” And then a short list of stories was included to prove the point.) 
	
	
	 
	
	And the coverage has been light: I was impressed Keith Olbermann, Rachel 
	Maddow and even Stephen Colbert have noted this is more than dismissive 
	hippy-ism; but no major news organization has (to the best of my knowledge) 
	paid more than the barest attention thus far.
	
	Why?
	
	Perhaps it’s because no one wants a popular movement or peaceful rebellion 
	to spread at a time when many Americans are fed up with their dysfunctional 
	government leaders. 
	
	 
	
	We have enough problems, the leaders and media friends 
	might be thinking: Why stir the pot?
	
	Perhaps it’s because they sense, as does Bloomberg, that once a train like 
	this gets going, it can be hijacked by the wrong people and cause real 
	damage. (That, alone, is worthy of another story altogether.) 
	
	 
	
	But is that a 
	reason to quell coverage, really?
	
	In the end, though, a large-scale failure to acknowledge and cover this 
	“small” group of protestors - now growing in numbers, thanks to outrage at 
	the rough-housing NYPD, and quickly propagating similar groups in other 
	cities such as Los Angeles, Chicago, Washington, D.C., etc. - is akin to a 
	media blindness.
	
	The media’s job is not to turn a blind eye. The media’s job is to report. 
	Period. 
	
	 
	
	Which is yet another reason why Americans are not trusting the 
	modern media. And I have to say, given what I’ve witnessed in recent days in 
	and around Zuccotti Park, that I clearly understand why my profession is 
	much maligned these days.
	
	If people are there, and they have something worthwhile to say - regardless 
	of whether it is popular or potentially alarming or against the political 
	status quo - it is news. Good reporters should be covering it, regardless of 
	their personal political preferences - and let Americans come to their own 
	conclusions.
	
	Is it a media blackout?
	
	
	Sure seems that way to me. If I can cover one voice about a Gulf War, and 
	contribute to society’s understanding of our greater human experience, then 
	the media can certainly begin paying attention to thousands of marchers - 
	and what appears to be the beginnings of an American movement.
	
	I would call upon our news organizations to acknowledge their collective 
	mistake in ignoring this story, remember that their calling is higher than 
	the profit motive, and begin covering news that engages our thinking skills.
	
	America needs the media now more than ever. 
	
	 
	
	To find it absent, while the 
	entire world is watching this unfolding and increasingly important story 
	(and they are) is a travesty and a statement about how far we have fallen as 
	a nation built on freedom of speech and thought.
	
	These are voices worth hearing at this time of trouble and strife. Hundreds 
	of those voices are gathering in New York and other cities right now, 
	representing diverse people and backgrounds and views - and trying to send a 
	message that change, Real Change, must happen.
	
	I want to hear what they have to say. As an American, I need to hear. As a 
	media consumer, I demand to hear.
	
	 
	
	Don't you?