| When
a community depends upon me for accurate coverage
By Edgar Sandoval
Summer 1999 Scholar
Posted: May 29, 2001
Dear Diary,
I glance at my watch and notice the time: Almost 4 p.m.
I am late. How great is this! Second week on the job, and
yet, here I am, late to my first big meeting with area Latino
leaders and top editors at my newspaper, The Morning
Call in Allentown, Pa.
I walk in. To my left are six or seven men and women wearing
smart business suits and serious looks. Some smile politely.
To my right are the big shots of the newsroom — the editor,
managing editor, metro editor, business editor and assistant
city editor. I sit in the middle and start playing with my
thumbs.
The folks to my left are thinking: "We want more positive
coverage of Latinos … fewer stereotypes."
The folks on the right are thinking: "We are working
on it … We want to cover all members of our community."
I am thinking: "This meeting better not last long
because I wouldn’t miss the ‘Will and Grace’
season premiere even if the world was going to end. I mean,
I already missed ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’ earlier
this week, and I almost needed therapy for that."
My silly, immature thoughts are going on and on when the
session begins in earnest. Fingers are pointed.
"The paper did not cover this event, and the one they
did cover was negative news." The speaker is a solemn,
smartly suited Latino.
The big shots reply: "We cover good and bad news
… We are developing a Latino affairs beat …
We want to have fair representation of the area population."
Silence for a second. Then they all turn to me. It
hits me: I am their solution with legs. Holy cow! I mean,
there has to be something missing here. An entire ethnic group
is depending on ME to project an accurate and responsible
image of THEM to the community at large? I am "it."
Local television networks, roughly 50-miles away in Philadelphia,
Pa., rarely cover news here. So, my newspaper and a PBS local
news program are pretty much the media outlets where people
get their local information.
I want to get up, shake my head and say, Whoa, hold on
a second. I have no intention of saving the world. But,
my quick reflexes advise me otherwise. They’re
still looking at me. I know this is when I am supposed to
say something smart. They’re all looking at me, and the
only thing I can think of is, They are all looking at
me!
This is the thought that used to hurt my grades in public-speaking
courses back in college. I take a deep breath. I smile, clear
my throat and fix my tie. I slowly open my mouth and see myself
saying, You gotta be kidding me.
Instead, I say, "Well, I am new in town, but I have
talked to most of you, and I am very aware of the needs of
the Latino community. I hope that at the end of a few months,
you can read my work and agree that I did my best to present
an accurate picture of Latinos in the area."
I mean every word I say. I shake their hands. They smile
and refer to me as "young Edgar," as if there were
an old Edgar in the room. Not young, I tell them. I finished
college a year-and-a-half ago. They smile. Meeting is over,
and I go home to watch my favorite TV shows.
Usually the shows make me crack up, and I eat some meatless
sandwich. But that Thursday all I can think is: Holy cow!
I have a pretty overwhelming job.
Edgar Sandoval was a Summer 1999 Scholar who
interned at The Tennessean in Nashville. He was working
as an intern at The Morning Call in Allentown, Pa.,
when he wrote this column. Reach him at EdJSandoval@aol.com.
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