Informing the uninformed!

Journopad offers not only a compelling insight in the enigmatic lifestyle of Journalism students, but carry with it an authority that compels readership. Its appropriate title and engaging blog posts overcome the typical superfluous opinion of the amateur blogger, tackling contemporary issues with a rather glamorous spin. Granted Journopad is merely a student blog, but it is surprisingly informed, exposing its audience to a diverse collage of issues. I found within this unique and rather unconventional blog a rich display of enthralling feminist posts to political debates concerning policies acutely relevant to our public.

Browsing through this blog, there is an evident and embedded sense of individuality as the writer’s characters are lucidly articulated within each contribution. Jetsetter in particular portrays himself as somewhat flamboyant with his overtly sensational posts which, although somewhat ostentatious, tie his opinions together brilliantly. Despite the sense of nonchalance, Journopad is able to remain pleasantly informal without sounding too colloquial and with its fabulous take on the media, adds an exclusive and unparalleled angle to journalism - a welcomed change.

The presentation of this blog is not only impeccably charming and in context with its authors, but remains reputably journalistic without appearing overtly cliché. The photography, although not enthralling or overwhelmingly artistic, lighten the already jovial mood of the blog as it captures the essence of student life. Journopad makes not only for an interesting read but challenges readers with a taste for the unknown, to look beyond the boarders of the average thinker. Essentially it informs the uninformed on what it is to be a part of the turbulent world of media.

The Painters of Battles

Photograph by Halden Krog

To be a journalist is to be empowered. You hold in your hands the tools to a blank canvas – but it is what you choose to paint that defines you. Choice. Each day is a choice, to capture the truth or to manipulate reality to satisfy our own moral conscience.

Too often the individual becomes the product, commercialised, dehumanised and we forget to engage with the real life tragedy. Our humanity is fading as journalism becomes more callous and competitive, wartime photography staining the pages of our media with decapitated bodies.

We too are obliged to the industry to deliver a product, a conscience simply a crippling luxury. Halden Krog, photographer of the infamous Burning Man, questions at what point does one take a picture or choose to lay down their camera - no longer a photojournalist but a human being with a moral obligation to save a life.

We are at war with our own morality, and we are faced with a choice whether to answer the call of our conscience and risk falsifying the truth. A critic of The Painter of Battles by former wartime journalist, Arturo Perez-Reverte, remarked, “Is there a moral obligation on the part of the photographer to not capture certain moments, lest they create a tainted vision that alters reality?”

Capturing the truth is intrinsic to our nature but there is a price that comes with this responsibility. As human beings are torched alive we step back, observe and mechanically disengage ourselves from the humanising character of interference.

The passion is dead.

The Unintentional Journalist

Rosanna Scott

You’re a journalist. Don’t be offended – it happens to the best of us. It began when you started summarising the debaucherous happenings of last night in your Facebook status, and then when you informed your stalkers and co. on Twitter that you’ve finally managed ‘The Half Lotus’ position in your yoga training.

So – whether you’re aware of it or not – your contribution to live media is considered journalism. Albeit, a journalism that is concerned with ‘ordinary’ individuals; a celebration of those not directly involved in the autopsy of Michael Jackson or Obama’s visions for Guantanamo Bay. You and this blog have this ‘ordinary’ in common.

This blog is written with the intention of addressing the more ‘mundane’ things – the events have become ‘insignificant’ compared to heinous crimes or spectacular celebrities. Yet the commentary on daily life is surprisingly engrossing, why shouldn’t it be when you are engaging with material that is realistic and immediate? It is an opportunity to explore themes that relate to you. Consider punch lines that capture your dilemmas, rather than those of distant and detached idols who mainstream news insists on worshipping.

While you were being convinced to take Glamour’s ‘Who Wore it Better?’ seriously, you forgot that that you had your own opinions – opinions that are more relevant and entertaining. This blog looks at some of the most successful … and unsuccessful journalism, providing critical and entertaining views that reflect your interests. It employs the voice of the ‘ordinary’ person and assumes they’re more sophisticated than what mainstream media would have them be.

Because it’s written by part of the ‘audience’, this blog is accessible and readable. It doesn’t have the pretentiousness that ‘academic’ journalists subtly portray. It’s only authority is derived from the fact that it’s writers come from the readership, creating a loyalty and intimacy that cannot be achieved through mainstream journalism.

Lets take a moment to swallow some academic arrogance and admit that it’s difficult to consume endless traditional, hard news. Yes – take an interest in world around you, but don’t neglect the voice that most echoes yours: the average blogger.

But notice too, apart from shortening paragraphs that serve your diminishing interest in this post, that you have the opportunity to comment. Use your mouth (…an inappropriate instruction for computer media) and engage… simply because you can.

So why journalism? Good question...

By Natalia Carvalho

We all hope to achieve something in our lives, to do great things, to be a success. I know I do, that’s why I’m here as a student at Rhodes University. You see journalism is so much more than just a career; it’s a challenge and opportunity to push the boundaries to the point where you should ask yourself, how far are you willing to go? That’s something I look forward to learning and sharing with my readers because I believe the best journalists are a product of shared experiences and knowledge. It takes us beyond the boundaries of a degree where we don’t just find a story; we temporarily become an intrinsic part of someone’s life. Finally I believe before we are journalists we are human and as tempted as we might be, as our journalistic senses tingle, for a story, our humanity dictates the kind of writer we will become. As an aspiring journalist and a young woman I’ve learnt compassion. To be fortunate enough to glance into someone else’s life, even for a moment, has taught me that journalism and our world isn’t just black and white but a colourful array of greys.

So why do I want to be a journalist? I don’t know. In fact there are days when I look at my life, myself and doubt the most influential decision I will ever make. Then there are those days, the ones which inspire, when being a journalist feels like the one thing that would make sense. No on those days, it’s the only reason that existing in a world so imperfect with such suffering is actually worth it. If I’m honest with myself, I didn’t want this in the beginning but as this question loomed closer, I realise why, just why I would want to plunge myself into a life scouring for stories.

September 12 I found myself in a hospital, a photographer and report along side me; that was one of those day were it suddenly all made sense. I remember watching the expression on a little girls face change as we handed her gifts and the photographer snapped shot of her little hands eagerly tearing away the wrapping. She was chronically ill. The next day as she smiled at me from the between the pages of a local newspaper I knew why I wanted this. That moment of happiness we’d captured and eternalised made everything worth it and I realised writing is a lot bigger than we think. It’s about those rare moments when you read your name alongside something profound that you can feel privileged to have been a part of.

That’s why I want I write.