I don’t know about other media reporters, but I’ve never gotten used to covering/watching/fearing layoffs. I’ve tried, over the years, to offer tips on weathering them.
It always feels like not nearly enough.
But we’re not helpless. A young journalist taught me that.
When I started co-leading the Poynter-Koch Media and Journalism Fellowship a few years ago, I approached the job of working with early career journalists as someone who’d spent eight years covering layoffs. How could I prepare them for an industry that would never love them back?
One that would gaslight them into unpaid time in payment of “dues.”
One that would use their unique skills, throw them into difficult and dangerous work, and cut them first.
One that would compensate them so poorly that they might have to take second jobs while trying to convince them that was OK because this work is a calling in service of democracy.
The only path I could see, for the people who still wanted in, was to prepare them to fight all of those things. We even have an unofficial motto: Outlast the bastards.
Last year’s class was the first that I had for the full year, and they were ready for everything co-director Benét J. Wilson and I brought them. The projects they shared at our last conference showed that they, too, were ready to build a better industry.
That included a project, from a journalist whose own father was murdered, aimed at helping television stations cover violent crimes more humanely; an anonymous way to help editors better work with trans and nonbinary journalists; and a guide to building a mutual aid network to support laid-off journalists.
Kati Kokal’s guide is being used now to support journalists in Los Angeles.
Los Angeles-based journalist Emily Elena Dugdale first started studying it a few weeks ago when some of the journalists at public radio station KCRW were laid off. After this week’s Los Angeles Times layoffs, she decided it was time to launch an LA mutual support network.
On Tuesday, Dugdale tweeted about what she intended to build. She was not expecting the immediate response.
“I think I have about $1,000 in my Venmo account right now just from people sending a little money here, a little money there.”
By Wednesday, Dugdale created a Google form for the emerging network, and she’ll share more on X as it gets built. The whole thing feels a little scary, she said, but she’s motivated to give people a way to show up for their peers.
“I honestly think the community of journalists is why I haven’t left this profession.”
Since starting to research how other industries deal with burnout, one of the things that has stuck with me is the impact of demoralization. You can see it at the Houston Landing, where a beloved top editor and investigative reporter were fired. You can see it in Baltimore, where The Baltimore Sun’s new owner suggested the Sun should be more like the local TV station. And you can see it in Los Angeles, where some of the brightest and most innovative journalists no longer have jobs at the LA Times.
One strategy for countering demoralization is building community. That’s what Kokal did when layoffs hit Gannett. That’s what the project she built guides others to do. And it’s what’s happening now in Los Angeles.
“This week has been heart-wrenching for journalism, and the effects of these layoffs will be felt far and wide in our communities, specifically communities of color,” Kokal said. “The single bright spot in all of this was seeing journalists step up to support each other. Although I wish we didn’t have to, that’s what journalism community aid is all about.”
None of this will fix bad leadership. It will not solve revenue problems. But it will support the people who, if we’re lucky, will come back to our industry. And we’re going to need them for all the people and forces we have to outlast.
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