I don’t understand the world anymore.
Well, that’s not right. That sentence would lead one to believe I ever really “got it.”
What I don’t understand is the lack of personal responsibility. We see this at every level of society. Bill Cosby didn’t think he should have been convicted. Jeffrey Epstein seems to have believed — correctly for many years — that wealth and power would keep him untouchable. Looters believe they shouldn’t be charged for their actions taken during a protest.
There’s a growing acceptance that if the media reports something one doesn’t like, call it “fake news,” call journalists names, rail against them and that makes it OK.
Years ago, my late in-laws had a small poodle rescued from a puppy mill. He was an adult when they adopted him. He wasn’t very active, as his entire life had been spent confined to a cage. They named the little guy Lucky.
Lucky had no concept of responsibility. He wasn’t really housetrained, and didn’t take to it. If he had a mishap in the house, he would not acknowledge any responsibility for it. Usually, a dog will look guilty at least. Not Lucky.
I think about that little dog a lot, because his aloof refusal to accept he had done anything wrong is a common thread in today’s society.
Maybe the concept of responsibility has gone by the wayside in modern times. After all, isn’t it easier to point a finger, casting blame on anyone but oneself?
Through my years in journalism, I can’t begin to recount all the arguments I’ve had with people who are angry about a story. In very few cases, that anger may be justified because of a mistake made by a reporter, or in a court document. And we own up, and correct our mistake.
Yet most of the time, the argument is more along the lines of “it’s nobody’s business and you printed it so you are evil.”
The first time someone yelled at me, I was taken aback. I remember talking to then-managing editor Marty Wilder about it. She has this way of laughing that tears down someone’s argument before she ever speaks.
“Do they pay your bills?” she asked me.
No, I replied.
“Do they answer to me if they don’t print it?” she asked.
No, I replied.
“Then get over it.”
Marty was not a warm-and-fuzzy kind of editor. And that’s why she was effective.
Several years ago, a man who had a DUI called to yell at a reporter. This reporter is known for being kind. After hearing him out — for far longer than I would have — she was at her wits’ end.
He yelled; she calmly replied, “Maybe you should make better life choices.”
There’s a Catch-22 in working in local journalism. Communities have a “we mind our own business” attitude when a news story is about someone they know, and the vitriol to the messenger follows for daring to “attack” someone by printing what is public information.
When the news story is about someone else, that mindset shifts to “tell me more” to the point where reporters are accused of hiding things and not telling the full story.
Let me turn this back on myself. As I’ve shared before, I come from a big family. Of course, as a child, one tends to try to blame another for one’s actions. As I watched life unfold around me, I noticed the siblings who admitted what they did and apologized faced less punishment than ones who played the blame game.
And for myself, I’ve found it’s easier to live with the disappointment and reprimand from having done wrong than it is with the guilt of passing the buck.
I admit I am a fallible person. Accepting that leads to growth.
(Marcie Schellhammer is the Era’s assistant managing editor. She can be reached at marcie@bradfordera.com.)
