Big Wigs

This weekend was odd.

I wasn't planning on it being so odd, but then it just happened. I was invited to go "The Independent Florida Alligator Second Century Celebration," ringing in the first year of the next century of the Florida Alligator. Happy 101st, baby.

The scary thought, to me, is what The Alligator would look like should it be around in 100 years. If newspapers are around in 100 years, in any form recognizable to a current human, I would be shocked. But that's just me.

So, what, then, was this celebration? Fireworks? A ticker-tape Parade? Funfetti cake? To my dismay (especially regarding the Funfetti), no.

It was part-lecture, part-family reunion, part-lifetime achievement award ceremony, and part-networking party; a mesh that often felt awkward, but always good-intentioned. Some alumni spoke about The Alligator's historic and epic past, when it freed itself from the shackles of administrative slavery and gained independence. And that was pretty cool. Others spoke on their own work in their various professional fields, from online multimedia journalism to media law to their own accomplishments.

And what accomplished people they were! I had little idea that people who once worked in that cramped and wood-paneled office, went on to win Pulitzers, create global communications companies, and work for The Washington Post, The Wall Street Journal, and Forbes Magazine. It was pretty crazy to hear from big-name writers about their times smoking out on the roof of the newspaper building. But, of course, it was the 70s.

The event was long and monotonous at times. During the periods when I just couldn't concentrate, I thought about a lot: my potential future in journalism, if I fit the personality of these people who fight deadlines and passionately give 60+ hours a week to publish the news, if I even shared their values....

And I'm not really sure. But I did feel strangely more connected to The Alligator by the end of the day. It was clearly something worth respecting, worth working for and with, at least for a time.

I do worry though about the role of the journalist in the 21st century. Thirty years ago people wrote to affect change in their world--and they did. Reporters at The Alligator had Florida laws overtuned, butted heads with the administration, and went through a painful seperation from the university, all on principle.

Could anything like that happen now? Are any of us Generation-Yers not jaded and overstimulated by the continuous overflow of information to fight for one or two causes? (Aside from the Plaza of the Americas hipsters, who protested against Andrew Meyers tazering in the hundreds two days after it happened and then failed to show up for the policy forum this last week.)

I don't know. I'm not even sure I could.

So, if journalists and the news comes to us, the readers, and tells us of a horrible injustice, or a terrible corruption in the government, and we only think about it for five minutes...what good is the news? And how can we ever break away from the information superhighway to change anything at all?

This is thought that's bothering me now. But I cannot dwell on it for too long. I'm just too busy to care right now.