No one goes into reporting with the idea that it’s an easy job, but no one truly goes into it thinking they might be killed, beaten, or psychologically damaged in the process of getting the story. And yet, the recent sagas of CBS correspondent Lara Logan being attacked in Egypt as well as CNN’s Anderson Cooper and others being targeted and tussled about indicate that writing that first page of history and bringing truth to the world is more dangerous than ever before. There’s a new era of lawlessness and disregard for this noble profession that is troubling.
While journalists and photographers throughout history have always been putting themselves in the line of fire — often quite literally — to me, the kidnapping and beheading of the Wall Street Journal’s Daniel Pearl in 2002 was a watershed moment that redefined what it means to be a foreign correspondent and the risks that come with the job. He was lured to his death, tricked by his kidnappers on the pretext of scoring an exclusive interview, and for his dedication and pursuit of the truth, he was horribly tortured and killed.
Maybe it’s a little naive and unrealistic to put the role of journalists on a pedestal and think they are immune to the prejudices that are out there, but I remember a time in my reporting career where I was welcomed by the people on both sides of the story who were eager to have an impartial, third-party viewer listen and get their words out to a waiting audience. After all, any story that involves human beings, history, and conflict is complex and multi-faceted. These stories need good reporters who have a patient ear, compassion, and a way with words to tell them in a way that is easy to understand and wields impact.
While I’ve never dodged bullets (my crew and I did pursue drug dealers once, and they most likely were armed) I have dodged Molotov cocktails during angry student demonstrations in Korea during the 1988 Olympics. The world spotlight was on Seoul, providing the perfect stage for anti-government protesters to air their grievances on international television. My cameraman and I were in the thick of the battle between the Molotov cocktail-wielding students on one side and the gun-wielding soldiers on the other. And yet I felt no venom from either.
Representatives from both sides — a couple of students and a government spokesman — were willing to talk to us to get their perspective heard. Aside from the possibility of being hit by a random fireball, at no time did we feel we were in any kind of personal danger from the people. They may have hated each other, but they welcomed us.
It was the same kind of feeling I had in Los Angeles in the spring of 1992 when my Sacramento television station sent me and my photographer, Elbert Mock, to the heart of South Central to cover the Rodney King riots. As you may recall, King, an African-American, had been stopped a year previously by Los Angeles police for a traffic violation. During the process of arresting him, police beat him viciously with nightsticks, an event that was caught on videotape and aired for the world to see. When the four police officers indicted in the trial were acquitted, much of Los Angeles erupted in shock and anger, resulting in about a week-long period of violent protest. Koreatown was the target of some of the hardest destruction — many businesses were looted, many residents attacked.
It was into this setting that Elbert and I ventured. The Korean people opened up to us, showing the broken glass of their buildings, the looted insides of their stores, telling us of their fears and anger. At the same time, representatives of the African-American community also lined up in front of our camera, eager to share the perspective of the racism they felt they endured every day, the continuing despair over opportunities that never materialized, the recognition that never came. They did not seem bothered by my Asian face, nor did the Koreans seem upset by the fact that the photographer rolling the video was African-American. It was as if both sides were able to see below the surface to see the core of the person within, to recognize that we were both doing our jobs and there to make their voices heard.
How refreshing and almost antiquated that concept seems today, when in many cases news organizations have an axe to grind and proudly acknowledge that they are presenting news with a view. The news with a view that most immediately comes to my mind is the Xinhua New Agency of China in the 1980s, when it was as pure a government propaganda machine that ever existed, though it masqueraded as a news service. I can think of some current news organizations here in the U.S. that pump out propaganda every day.
Reporting does come with its risks, some much greater than others. One occupational risk is sometimes not getting the story quite right. To err is human, and I will be the first to admit that I make mistakes.
One has come to light in my last column in this space, where I ranted, I believe legitimately, about my anger and frustration over two parking tickets we had recently incurred. However, it seems that I mistakenly blamed the unshoveled state of some shopping center parking lots along Route 1 on the West Windsor Public Works department. I did not mean to impugn the hard work and integrity of our fine public works employees. On the contrary, I am grateful for the good work they do.
I am also grateful to the people who called my mistake to my attention, because the hallmark of a democratic society is a free and open press. I am blessed to have this regular forum to air my opinion, and I am happy and honored that you are out there reading and paying attention.
Again, I want to make sure you know that I want to hear from you. Please E-mail me at eunakwon@aol.com with your opinions and ideas. I’m always ready to listen.
