Media, negativity, and tenderness

I'm finding that I'm working longer days here than I have in a few years.. seriously, the whole day is full of stuff. But this is good. I'm accomplishing something. This morning we had more Wolof lessons, then a large break in the afternoon (we will have this schedule for the next week, and then we're done with Wolof lessons), and then some more Wolof to end the day. Then, at 5:30, I attended a panel hosted by the Baobab Center. This was really interesting- there were 3 panel members, two of them journalists (a Senegalese man who works for a Senegalese paper; and an American woman who's a West Africa correspondent to the Associated Press) and one photojournalist. The purpose of this panel was that it would serve as an event to draw together Senegalese students and American students so that they can share a common experience and mingle, essentially. The Baobab Center is committed to having one event like this at least once every month, but the demand seems high (on both sides), so I bet they'll have more if they can find ways to do it cheaply, or with no over-head. Anyway, first I'll describe the panel and then I'll talk about the mingling.

The topic of the panel was pretty loose and informal, but basically they just opened by telling us their history and how they got into journalism, and then the audience asked them a bunch of questions about differences between being a journalist in the U.S. versus Africa. I was particularly curious about the American journalist, and how she balances the requests of her employer with her own personal ethics and sense of responsibility. I had thought of this because it reminded me of my own experiences thus far in the blog-o-sphere and how I am conscious every night when I blog about the language that I use to describe my experiences here. I am conscious of this because I realize the power of language, and my fear is that something that I write will only confirm the negative stereotypes or images we have of Africa (as Americans). For example, when I wrote about the Talibe (the kids who beg for money, as ordered by their spiritual teacher), I was very concerned about sounding ethnocentric, or at least using language that promoted such thoughts. Of course, I'm not saying that you (people who are reading this) would be so easily swayed; in fact, I know I surround myself with like-minded individuals; but in any case, it's possible for anyone (even those with good intentions, like myself) to come to false conclusions when not presented with the entire (double-, triple-, quadruple-sided, etc) story.

But it's not easy, however, to give multiple sides of a story. And I think because of this, I have unintentionally left out some of my experiences here because I was not sure how to couch them in language that was purely objective and/or descriptive. Long story short (and the conclusion to this episode), is that I am going to try and give more- I have a responsibility to do this much, both to you and to the Senegalese.

But, back to the original purpose of this entry- I wanted to talk more about this journalism panel, and the discussion that ensued when it was over. Ah yes, so I asked the above question to the American journalist (I explained to her my experiences blogging, and how she balances her job's demands with her own ethical/social responbility), and her answer was simple: She forces herself to find stories that balance the negative images. For example, she told the story of one visit to the airport, in the evening, and how she was confused as to why there were a bunch of teens in the parking lot just lounging around. And then a friend told her why: They are students who come here at night to study, because their is a constant source of electricity and bright lights in the airport parking lot! So, there you have it- a story that tells you about the capacity of human resilience to overcome certain barriers to life achievements.

It's interesting though, how Americans, including me, are so much more drawn to negative events. I know this phenomenon has been documented in social psychological literature- that we pay more attention to, and have better remembrance for, negative things than we do for positive things. I'm not sure what the parameters of those findings are (e.g., a positive thing, such as a marriage ceremony, is obviously more memorable than yesterday's traffic jam), and whether these findings apply to other cultures. In any case-and I'll speak directly for myself here-I know it's easy for me to always find the negative in something, and, unfortunately, it's also easy for me to dwell on that negativity until I lose sight of all that is good. So, just like the journalist who forces herself to look for the good, I am going to make more of an effort to do the same. This will also resolve the conflict I've had in my head about choosing whether or not to go into detail about the poverty (for example), and if I choose to write about it, how can I make sure that I'm doing it in a responsible way?

Several other points were interesting in the panel, but I'll mention one other before I move on to something more sweet. There was a question, related to mine, that asked about the responsibility of the media toward vulnerable groups of people that may be targeted as a result of media attention. For example, the most recent situation, as you may have heard about, involved the media's attention some photos of a gay "marriage" and how this produced a riot, and subsequent witch-hunting. Prior to this media coverage, if my understanding is correct, the Senegalese didn't talk much about the possibility of there being gay fellows amongst them. So the question then became: When is it more ethical or responsible to hold back information rather than to release it to the public, and how does one decide upon this? More importantly, WHO decides this? One can easily see where these questions lead, both good and bad.

After the panel, there was a reception with refreshments. This was the sweet part of the day because I got to socialize with Senegalese college students. It was sweet because they were sweet. Almost immediately after the panel ended, several Senegalese students approached me and asked my name and welcomed me, etc. It was delightful. They want to practice their English with native speakers, so this was great for me! Yes, it's "fun" communicating in another language, but it gets tiring, quickly! But it was more than that- they seemed genuinely concerned about making me feel welcomed into their culture, and for wanting to get to know more about mine. I know it sounds soooo after-school special, but it's true- what else can I say?

Their greetings were long and intimate- for the first few minutes (while we were exchanging names, how long I've been here, how long I plan to be here, what we both study), our hands were locked in a perpetual handshake. And it's not the "I'm gonna squeeze the shit out of your hand so you know how manly I am" kind of bullshit- no, it's soft, gentle, and intimate. Almost too intimate for someone not accustomed to that- in fact, I kept finding myself battling my reflexes to pull away after immediate hand-to-hand contact. After the first few handshakes, I didn't feel the need to fight that urge anymore, and my hand rested peacefully in theirs, and theirs in mine. It's tender. I like it. When I had to leave for dinner, one of them playfully teased me, "Ah yes, American, 'time is money'!" I laughed, knew that it wasn't true for this instance, and moved closer to the door. But then, of course, someone new approached me and wanted to exchange email addresses (like the others), and so on and so forth. I did leave, eventually, but next time I will have to start leaving a half-hour before I actually need to leave. This is the Senegalese way, man.