The Daily Plan-it / Dean of Students Blog, Columbia J-school

Message from Dean Sreenivasan

Dear Students:

We are going to be doing more webcasts in the weeks ahead. Coming soon: Sheila Coronel, who heads our investigative journalism program; Betsy West, who teaches in the broadcast program; Joe Cutbirth, who teaches reporting and writing (and is a PhD candidate himself); Larry Fried, dean of technology and his tech team; LynNell Hancock, who teaches education reporting (and is finishing up her term as interim academic dean); and Bill Grueskin, our new academic dean.

Meanwhile, our next session is later today:
MEET THE J-SCHOOL: Judith Matloff, adjunct professor, author and war correspondent. Her new book, “Home Girl: Building a Dream House on a Lawless Block,” is about her setting up a new life in Harlem.

TODAY, Monday, June 23, 3-4 p.m. NY time
See local time in your city here: http://snurl.com/2nese

Listen live at the link below (or by dialing a NYC number, 646-915-9583) or listen to a recording later: http://www.blogtalkradio.com/ColumbiaJournalism/2008/06/23/MEET-THE-FACULTY-Judith-Matloff

You can send your questions in advance: dos[at]jrn.columbia.edu (subject=webcast) and you can also ask questions via the live chatroom there (another chance to meet some of your new classmates, too).

Judith Matloff has been teaching reporting and writing; covering conflicts and other courses at the J-School for several years. Her latest book: “Home Girl: Building a Dream House on a Lawless Block.” She worked as a staff foreign correspondent for 20 years, specializing in areas of turmoil. She covered a total 62 countries, heading the Africa and Moscow bureaus of The Christian Science Monitor. Previously, Matloff spent a decade at Reuters in various positions in Europe and Africa. She has reported on major world matters including apartheid’s demise, genocide, EU expansion and OPEC.

YOU CAN LISTEN TO ALL OUR PREVIOUS WEBCASTS AND SEE ALL OUR RESOURCES AND FAQS FOR NEW STUDENTS at http://deanstudents.blogsome.com/2008/04/18/prepping/

You can also access all the recordings of all our webcasts at
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/columbiajournalism

These are also available as downloadable MP3 files for your personal
collection. If you want to subscribe to these as podcasts on iTunes,
go to “Advanced” within iTunes, then select “Subscribe to podcast” and
type in http://www.blogtalkradio.com/columbiajournalism/feed and hit OK.

In the fall of 1961, a young man named Bruce Porter came to the Columbia Journalism School as a student. On June 5, 2008, we gathered to say goodbye at his retirement party. In the 47 years in between, he became a successful journalist, author and professor, never wandering too far from the school or NYC before coming here to teach full-time again a dozen years ago.

Here are videos of his remarks at the end of “The Porter Party” which was a combination toast and roast:

Earlier the same day, we hosted a webcast with Prof. Porter, where he talked about his work, his book “Blow” and teaching at the J-school. Incoming student Joel Stonington helped conduct the interview. Listen to the webcast here.

Prof. David Hajdu [DavidHajdu.com], who teaches arts journalism at the school and is a prolific author, was a guest at Google HQ, for one of their Google Talks events. You can watch the 48-minute video below or at this link.


You can also listen to a web radio interview we did with Prof. Hajdu on April 23, 2008 below or at this link.

Send your comments to dh2145[at]columbia.edu

Message from LynNell Hancock, Interim Dean of Academic Affairs

Dear Students and Colleagues:

I am pleased to announce three major additions to our new media
efforts at the Journalism School.

The first is the appointment of one our most popular adjuncts, Duy
Linh Tu, to the full-time faculty. Duy (pronounced “Do” - see bio
below) joins us as new media coordinator and an assistant professor of
professional practice. As you know, he has been teaching here for
several years in the new media classrooms. He will intensify his
efforts to “webbify” our fall classes, and to integrate new and
compelling ideas in multimedia storytelling throughout the curriculum
in the years to come. Duy will continue to work with Dean Sree
Sreenivasan, who, as you know, has increased administrative
responsibilities at the school.

In addition, we have created two new post-graduate New Media
Fellowships starting this year. These July-June fellowships will
employ two students who will work closely with the technology staff to
help students and professors alike navigate the world of new media
journalism.

Our inaugural fellows are Kenan Davis and Dave Mayers (see bios
below). Part-teaching assistants, part-technologists, this year’s
fellows are both smart journalists with terrific reporting, writing,
editing and production skills. They will report to Duy.

Please join me in congratulating them. Kenan and Dave officially begin
their duties on July 1, but I am sure you will have other
opportunities to greet them before then.

(more…)

Bill Wareham, managing editor of Minnesota Public Radio (one of the most influential news organizations in America) recently visited the school and had some nice things to say about our radio curriculum and Professors John Dinges and Rick Karr:

Both fellows have distinguished bios - John is a former managing editor at NPR (the full bio is here) and Rick has done stints with NPR, PBS and more (full bio). But these guys may be doing their most important work ever at Columbia, where they’re educating the next generation of radio journalists.

The heart of the radio workshop is the weekly webcast, which comes together every Friday during spring semester at 4 o’clock ET. This mix of daily news and features is a pretty good replication of what goes on daily at public radio stations across the country.

What impresses me every year is how good these students are, even if they’re still a little rough around the edges. We’ve had several graduates of the program come through MPR (the latest, Jess Mador, started a couple of months ago), and all have been strong journalists.

You will be hearing many of these voices on public radio in coming years, but if you want to hear them now, the workshop archives its programs here.

Read the full item, with links:
http://minnesota.publicradio.org/collections/special/columns/newsroom/archive/2007/04/hearing_the_fut.shtml.

Prof. Dinges, who is a terrific evangelist for radio, encourages all students to think about doing radio, even if they are not broadcast majors (we have courses of various lengths). He say, “Some students now seek out Columbia for radio, more each year as word gets out. But still the majority of our students discover the possibility of radio while here–including about half who started out with the intention of being print journalists.”

He’s right. Over the years, I have seen dozens of students had what I call their “radio epiphany” while taking a radio course here and go into careers where radio is their major outlet - or one of their major outlets. Increasingly, even newspaper reporters are asked to collect audio clips, make podcasts, etc. And when it comes to new media, radio and audio skills are especially invaluable.

If you are incoming student (or a continuing PT student): please do consider taking radio classes when you are here. More on radio at Columbia here: http://www.jrn.columbia.edu/studentwork/radio/

Last updated March 19, 2007, 8:00 a.m.

Columbia Memorial Service, Monday, March 19, 2007 at 6 p.m.

Several items below about the passing of Prof. Phyllis Garland, beloved faculty member at the J-school for 30 years, who died Nov. 7, 2006. Prof. Garland, who held the title of Professor Emerita, was 71 years old.

School news item on her passing (including funeral arrangements). Dean Nicholas Lemann’s announcement. Official faculty bio. Links to obituaries and articles. Notes from former students and colleagues - share your thoughts here: Sree Sreenivasan - ss221@columbia.edu (subject line = Prof. Garland) - please indicate your connection to her.

Columbia Journalism School mourns death of Phyl Garland - Journalist, musician, master teacher
The faculty and staff of the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism mourn the death of their colleague and friend, Master Teacher Phyllis T. Garland, who died on November 7 of cancer at age 71. Phyl, as she was known, was the first tenured black faculty member at the journalism school, where she taught for more than three decades. In addition to her Cultural Affairs Reporting and Writing class, Garland was a Master’s Project advisor, and founded and then served as the administrator of the National Arts Journalism Program at Columbia.

Phyl began her career in 1959 as one of the first women reporters for The Pittsburgh Courier. She would later become an editor there. Throughout the years, she covered issues relevant to African-Americans, including the March on Washington, the Civil Rights Movement, discrimination in housing, education, labor, and the arts, and then the first blacks elected to public office in Mississippi. She went on to become the New York City editor of Ebony magazine.

Phyl’s first love, however, was music. Her collection of black music - jazz, soul, and R&B recordings – covered bookcases from floor to ceiling in her Greenwich Village apartment. For 20 years, she was a contributing editor for Stereo Review, and was the author of The Sound of Soul (1969), a comprehensive book on black music.

Dean Nicholas Lemann described her as “a major presence in the life of this school for decades, and a woman of tremendous love, passion, spirit, and commitment to all the best things in journalism. Hers was a life wonderfully well lived, and that is something for us to bear in mind as we mourn her passing.”

When she retired from the school in 2004, she sang at her own party, accompanied by an all-female band. She was presented with a scroll, which described her as someone with “affection, respect and advocacy for students…a deep love of music and its interplay with culture…and a fierce appreciation of African-American artists and the essential role of the arts in American culture.”

Private funeral services will be held on Saturday, November 18 at 5 pm in McKeesport, PA.
Flowers can be sent to:
Bethlehem Baptist Church
716 Walnut Street
McKeesport, PA 15132
412-664-7272

Please feel free to send cards to:
Myrna Garry (Phyl’s cousin)
10010 Windstream Drive
Columbia, MD 21044

Kelly Burks (Myrna’s daughter)
5108 Jamesdale Court
Glenn Dale, MD 20769

o o o o o

From Nicholas Lemann
J-School Faculty List
Nov 8, 2006 9:43 AM

Dear Friends,

We have just received word that Professor Emerita Phyllis Garland passed away yesterday—evidently without pain. Phyl was a major presence in the life of this school for decades, and a woman of tremendous love, passion, spirit, and commitment to all the best things in journalism. I am sure we will be holding a full-dress memorial service, but for now I just wanted to let you know the news. Hers was a life wonderfully well lived, and that is something is bear in mind as we mourn her passing.

o o o o o

OFFICIAL FACULTY BIO
Phyllis Garland: B.S.J., Northwestern; L.H.D. (honorary), Point Park College. Reporter, editor, Pittsburgh Courier; assistant editor, associate editor, New York editor, Ebony; assistant professor, State University of New York (New Paltz); consultant, National Endowment for the Arts; administrator, National Arts Journalism Program at Columbia; freelance writer and contributing editor, Stereo Review; author, The Sound of Soul (1969); distinguished scholar of the United Negro College Fund; writer, documentary film, Adam Clayton Powell (1989).

o o o o o

LINKS TO OBITS & ARTICLES

• Pioneering journalism professor earned respect - By Jerry Vondas, Pittsburgh Tribune-Review, Friday, Nov. 10, 2006

o o o o o

Your Tributes Here
Please e-mail Sree Sreenivasan - ss221@columbia.edu (subject line = Prof. Garland) - please indicate your connection to her.

1. From June Cross, J-School professor:
   I remember the name Phyl Garland from a time before I even knew I wanted to be a journalist; a time when, as a child, the adults around me discussed in hushed tones the efforts of the nine black students in Little Rock to desegregate Central High School and the battles between the NAACP and SNCC over whether the courts or the streets was the best method to achieve social justice. Black folks distrusted the bias of mainstream newspapers back then; and one the papers most often turned to was the Pittsburgh Courier, where Phyl Garland, a female reporter, covered arts stories; where her mother, Hazel Garland, served as the paper’s editor. The androgynous name struck me; I followed its byline from the Courier, to Ebony magazine back when that magazine covered real events, and when I finally met Phyl at one of the black national conventions in the early seventies I was bowled over by her generosity of spirit, her warmth, her wit; her admonition that I not let being a woman in what was then overwhelmingly a man’s field interfere with my determination to be a good journalist.

   We lost track of one another for a long time; then, when I came to the J-school, Phyl took me under her wing and convinced me to stay over many long evenings. She made it clear that the work would not be easy but stressed that it was important; she plied me with the stories of her career over jazz, food, wine, and her numerous humorous anecdotes about both students and faculty.

   On the day I received tenure last May, one of the the first calls I made was to Phyl. She was already ill by then, and weak; but when I told her the news, she assumed her “professorial” voice and lectured me for a while on the mantle she expected me to assume. I had so looked forward to her continued mentorship in the years ahead; instead, I will strive to honor the space she created here.

2. From Addie Rimmer, J-school Professor:
   How do you pay tribute to someone who has been a mentor, a teacher, a role model, a friend and someone who was always there for you? How do you honor a pioneer who flung open doors and kept them propped open so others might join her? How do you say thank you to an amazing woman — a smart, proud and gentle woman who was a remarkable warrior. In the face of pain, she knew how to laugh. In the face of adversity, she knew how to persevere. Of the many things I treasure about her was her amazing ability to slow you down long enough to see what was so obvious that you missed it because you were busy looking for something else. As a teacher and editor, she helped you synthesize stories from the masses of notes that filled your notebook. She listened. She asked questions. She listened and soon you heard the story you wanted to tell.

   During my interviews to join the faculty, I reminded Phyl that years ago she had encouraged me to leave my native New York. Without missing a beat, she said, yes that was true. “But I didn’t tell you to be gone for so long. ” I felt like I was back home.

   Two years ago it was such a real joy to celebrate Phyl’s retirement at her party in the World Room. Classic Phyl — she had invited her own backup — an all-female band so she could sing. She was ready to move on — enthusiastic about new projects and finishing up others that she had nurtured during her 31-year tenure at Columbia. Classic Phyl — still passionate about journalism and telling stories. I will miss her terribly.

3. From David Klatell, Vice Dean:
   Phyl was no angel, which is a good thing, because she’d have been bored
   stiff. Her laugh was too physical, her interests too varied, her
   passions too great, her friends and feuds too varied.

   One short anecdote always seemed to capture her essence: My wife and I
   had been to a concert by the Carnegie Hall Jazz Band, led by trumpeter
   John Faddis. The guest artist was a barrel-chested blues singer, named
   McKenna. The next day in the office, I was waxing enthusiastic about the
   artists and she said, Faddis can still hit those high notes better than
   anyone, but you should have heard him in Pittsburgh in the ’50s, and I
   knew McKenna in Kansas City when he was a skinny little rat. He’s
   fattened up nicely.” And then, of course, laughter bubbled through her
   until she had to wipe her eyes.

4. From Judith Crist, J’45; adjunct faculty member:
   My thoughts about Phyllis Garland, beloved friend and colleague:

   Phyl and I met and formed a mutual admiration society in the early Sixties. Her office on the fifth floor was across the hall from the room in which I taught my critical writing classes, and Phyllis had an open-door policy. We soon shared not only her giant Webster’s when “word” problems became a class issue, but also our passion for the lively arts. Phyl educated me in the current-pop fields of her expertise. She was smart and she was witty. Over the years we were both named several times to the committees in search of a new dean. We called ourselves “threefers” (a play on the two-for-the-price-of-one “twofers” of showbiz). Phyl was a woman, African-American and junior faculty. I was a woman, Jewish and adjunct faculty. Three politically correct attributes apiece. I also served on the Genauer Prize selection committee that Phyl headed for many years. And my last in-school encounters were for that, in the sun-filled eighth-floor office she filled with plants and, above all, her lively and caring personality. She is deep in my heart.

5. From Sig Gissler, special faculty member and now administrator of the Pulitzer Prizes:
   I was white and she was black, but Phyllis Garland and I shared a deep
   interest in the complex role of race in American society - and in the news
   media’s often flawed coverage of racial issues. I first met Phyllis in 1993.
   After many years as a newspaper editor, I was a senior fellow at the old
   Media Studies Center at Columbia studying the interplay of race and media.
   Phyllis invited me to talk to her evening class, which she led with majestic
   ease. We hit it off. A year later, she supported my application to join the
   journalism faculty and helped me design a new seminar called “Race and
   Ethnicity in the New Urban America,” which I taught for eight years. She
   encouraged me at every turn, always ready with tips, sources and
   suggestions. In 1999, she pitched in again to help me and others create
   what became “Let’s Do It Better: Columbia’s Workshops on Journalism, Race
   and Ethnicity.” Again, her wisdom, judgment and bone-deep understanding of
   racial history were indispensable. All the while, she set a wonderful
   example in her devoted relationship with students. Phyllis touched many
   lives. I’m glad she left a lovely thumb print on mine.
6. From Helen Benedict, faculty member:
   Phyl was always a great supporter and friend, from the moment I
   arrived in this school 20 years ago. She was a champion of fair
   treatment for women and people of color, and we went through quite
   a few struggles together over these issues during the years. She
   also had a love of the arts, music and writing, and a beautiful
   jazz singer’s voice. She adored her students and cared terribly
   about justice and integrity. She was also just a whole lot of fun.
   She had so many things she wanted to accomplish with the free time
   after her retirement. This premature death is heartbreaking.
7. From LynNell Hancock, faculty member:
   Over the years Phyl Garland has been my professor, my colleague and my
   friend. In all these roles she was her genuine self–warm, caring, deeply
   passionate, and a whole lot of fun. Phyl taught me all those pesky basics with humor
   and patience when I was her RW1 student. Occasionally her eyes would flash
   with exasperation when we didn’t live up to expectations, her commanding voice
   would boom with indignation over an injustice. It wouldn’t be long, though,
   before she would erupt into a belly laugh over the absurdity of it all, and
   then would regale us with stories of interviewing Duke Ellington sans habille,
   or chasing Martin Luther King, Jr. down the street for a story. Phyl got a
   kick out of welcoming me into the faculty decades later as her colleague. She
   couldn’t believe she had stayed so long at Columbia that her old students
   were now moving in to the office next door. Her generosity remained in tact, as
   she answered my endless questions about the Black press in America, or the
   jazz greats from Kansas City. At Phyl’s retirement party I remember the late
   Professor Jim Carey saying that the heart of the school was leaving with her.
   No one could really replace her sense of dedication to the cause of gender and
   racial equity in the student body, on the faculty. And no one but Phyl could
   rock the stately World Room with her own singing voice and the sounds of an
   all-female jazz trio. There is no one like her.
8. From Deborah Wassertzug, Journalism School librarian:
   I am so sorry to hear of the loss of another cherished member of the
   J-school family. I always enjoyed my talks with Professor Garland,
   which would begin with a research question on her part, but easily
   evolve into discussions about music and books. (I still remember
   being stunned when she told me that her book on soul was published
   by Regnery, a house that has changed a lot since then!). I will
   miss the exuberant way she would enter a room and greet you - so
   warmly - and I wish comfort to her family and many friends who are
   missing her.
9. From Steve Ross, J’70; former professor; editor, BroadbandProperties:
   2006 has turned into a tough year.

   What I cherish most about Phyl was her insistence on going her own way — and on almost always being nice about it. I don’t ever remember her going back on her word, or doing
   something behind someone’s back.

   Phyl will be remembered, of course, as the first female professor, and as the second black, ever tenured by the J-school. That sells her short. She managed to be a culture-vulture and a news hawk. She was a fine professor — not merely a fine “black female” professor — who was adored by most of her charges.

   She taught students in her RW1 class both how to dig for local stories (a skill that’s being lost in American journalism) and to appreciate the glory of the arts (a skill that few journalists have ever mastered; heaven knows I haven’t).

   When she ran the “Columbia Branch” of the national arts reporting fellowship program, she sometimes sent fellows to me for mini-courses in arts financing. That ended when the program was reorganized. But she understood that a good jazz performance starts with box office basics.

   I especially remember when Phyl’s mom — also a pioneering journalist — passed on. I’m sure they’ve been catching up on the news this week… and that they are indeed smiling,
   no, laughing.

10. From E.R. Shipp, J’79; former professor; Lawrence Stessin Distinguished Professor in Journalism at Hofstra University
    Columbia didn’t know what to do with me and Addie Rimmer when we arrived on
    the scene at the J-School in 1977 among the class with the largest number of
    blackfolk to date. But Luther P. Jackson did. And so did Phyl. In their very
    different approaches to journalism education - but not to overcoming racism by
    not letting it be a crutch to failure - Phyl and Luther shaped the outlook of so
    many of us. I was a Luther student, so during my year or so in the J-School I
    spent more time in his orb than I did in Phyl’s. Over time, however, it was
    evident that Phyl’s influence was not limited to blacks. She reached out to and
    listened to and steered - sometimes gently, sometimes not - students of
    color, women, gays and lesbians and the artsy-fartsy types in a Front Page
    journalism school.

    When I joined the faculty as a grownup in 1994, she was so welcoming. I
    gained from her wisdom in not just teaching but in navigating the bureaucratic
    waters. In turn, I introduced her to some of the campus life from which she had
    been cloistered as a resident of that J-School building.

    Phyl and I had something in common beyond journalism: We liked to eat and, to
    eat well, we liked to cook. She could throw down! Because she was competitive
    in this realm, I think she would appreciate my saying that so can I!

    We both loved jazz. She knew jazz and was one of the first journalists to put
    the virtuoso Wynton Marsalis on the national radar screen in a piece for
    Ebony magazine. I could not talk jazz the way she could and, obviously, did not
    know the players as she did. But she got a kick out of my story of how I covered
    the unpublicized memorial service of Miles Davis at St. Peter’s Lutheran
    Church, the so-called jazz parish. I’d been attending memorial jam sessions there
    since I arrived in New York City as a student in the 1970s and realized that
    was the best venue to catch the greatest jazz musicians for free. Just read the
    obits to see who’d died and find out when the memorial gathering would take
    place at St. Peter’s. Not too long before Miles’s death, I’d attended the
    wedding of a distant relative, the jazz pianist Matthew Shipp Jr. Father John
    Gensel of St. Peter’s officiated. When Miles died in 1991, I just presumed that
    something would happen at St. Peter’s. But there was no announcement. After
    working all the official public relations routes and receiving no information, I
    called at night when a security guard answered the phone and asked if anything
    big was scheduled there in the next few days. He said there was a funeral on
    Saturday, Oct. 5. So I showed up and rather brazenly attached myself to Father
    Gensel and walked in with him. Once inside, I realized that I would look like
    a dummy if I didn’t recognize the music well enough to describe it in the
    piece I had in mind for the New York Times. Thankfully, the music was Kind of
    Blue, an album I knew inside out. (In explaining nut grafs to students I play for
    them “So What” from that album). The other thing that saved me was having
    Dizzy Gillespie there working the room, greeting the sidemen who’d played with
    him and Miles over the decades. Phyl would have no doubt known everybody
    there. How she chuckled about that story!

    Phyl was part of a Columbia group that treated a guest speaker, Carole
    Simpson, to dinner at a downtown restaurant that featured jazz. I didn’t notice that
    this was live jazz; we were so busy eating and talking. When I did see that
    this was Ron Carter and his ensemble and went (I believe with Prof. Derwin
    Johnson) to thank him for the music during intermission, he blessed us out, as
    they’d politely say down home. He raged. Because we were the only black group
    there and we were talking so loudly, we didn’t set a good example for the rest of
    the room. Yes, he did bless us out! Phyl came over to save the day as we
    slunk back to our table. We minded our manners after that.

    It’s a strange coincidence that Phyl and Ed Bradley, pioneering journalists
    in different media but both jazz nuts, died a day apart. Both could jam, but
    Bradley, being a TV guy, has more footage to document it. I don’t know about his
    musical collection, but Phyl had thousands of albums, many of them quite
    rare. Bradley was an ebullient amateur on the stage, but even he said he couldn’t
    carry a note. Phyl carried the notes. And us.

    The last social event that I attended in her presence was in January, the
    90th birthday celebration of our friend Evelyn Cunningham. Evelyn, one of the
    doyennes of black journalism, was another alum of the Pittsburgh Courier and had
    been mentored there by Phyl’s mother, the editor. The organizers invited 45
    people to tea at a fancy hotel on Manhattan’s East Side and 45 people to
    cocktails at the Rainbow Room. Guess who got the tea invites? Phyl did, and I did.
    When we saw each other there we couldn’t help but laugh. Two people who
    could care less for all that frou-frou were there for Evelyn.

11. Peter Landis, J’75; managing editor, NY1News:
    Phyllis Garland scared me.

    Thank goodness.

    When I first came to the J School in September of ‘74, I wound up in
    Professor Garland’s RW1 class, bored, and convinced that intense
    study in the basics was the last thing I needed.

    I learned very quickly that I was wrong.

    Boy, was I wrong.

    Professor Garland made me understand that there’s such a thing as
    “attribution”, that I can’t report something as fact if I don’t
    personally know it to be true (no…just because the police
    commissioner told me so doesn’t necessarily make it so).

    I also learned that stream of consciousness (or, occasionally,
    unconsciousness) did not a story make.

    Just when I was growing REALLY TIRED of getting assignments handed
    back with lots of notations and enough squiggles to resemble a
    football play…a breakthrough.

    A piece I wrote about police operations in Brownsville, Brooklyn,
    came back clean (or almost so). As she handed it to me, she actually
    laughed and said something like “welcome to the class”. I didn’t need
    to look at the yellow work paper to know that I’d finally passed
    muster with Phyllis Garland.

    I’ve thought about Phyllis from time to time while pounding away at
    attribution with students at the J school (where I’m an adjunct) or
    with reporters at NY1 News.

    I found out late that she was ill and called the hospice where she
    was being cared for. She wasn’t able to come to the phone but her
    nurse said she would let her know I was thinking about her.

    I hope she got the message.

12. From Dr. Deborah S. Edelman, J’85; health writer, researcher, author:
    Thankfully, I had an email exchange with Professor Garland less than a year
    ago. She was my RWI instructor and an enthusiastic supporter of my work,
    even though I was a science writing fellowship student and her specialty was
    arts and culture. My first RWI story was about an all-black rodeo in
    Harlem; she passed out copies to the whole class, totally embarrassing me.
    When I went to Greenpoint, Brooklyn, to write a neighborhood feature, I
    brought back an assortment of marzipan from a popular bakery there to share
    with the class. She made a big fuss about that, too; my classmates were
    less pleased. I loved her exuberance and feel grateful to have had her as
    a teacher.
13. From Stephen M. Silverman, J’75; news editor, People.com:
    Phyllis and I taught together for eight years, during which time I’d
    criticize students and she’d smile at them — and then criticize them
    herself, often breaking into peels of laughter as she did.

    Phyl had the most infectious and hearty laugh, as well as a steady
    and determined focus. Getting her to reminisce was always the biggest
    treat, because the stories ranged from her playing Bloody Mary for
    Rodgers and Hammerstein (after two drinks we’d sing “Bali Hai”
    together), to her being greeted by Duke Ellington in his Chicago
    hotel room for an interview at which Duke wasn’t wearing a stitch.
    And she simply proceeded with the interview.

    We taught arts journalism, and Phyl insisted that the subject was
    important because, if nothing else, the arts allow us in our everyday
    lives to show the best that we can do.

    And there you have it: A true pro. A dedicated teacher. A real pal.
    And a gentle and very loving soul.

    She had my deepest affection and admiration.

14. From Thaddeus Hwong, J’93; York University professor, Toronto:
    Years ago in a seminar in the World Room, Professor Garland shared with us
    this little tidbit of her personal experience. One day she was walking
    along, if I remember correctly, the Upper West Side, and there were these
    nice little shops selling these nice and expensive things. When she walked
    around she heard someone made a reference to something like why someone from
    the Third World was here. She was indignant and defiant. Third World?
    Where’s the First World? Why is there a ranking? Why is there a class?
    Aren’t we all supposed to be equal? It’s a remiss that I didn’t have the
    opportunity to take any course with Professor Garland. But the spirit and
    tone of the challenge she mounted will continue to resonate in my mind.
15. From Priscilla Huff, J93; producer/correspondent, Feature Story News:
    Prof. Garland was my RW1 professor and I don’t quite know what would be the
    lede. She was both tough and tender, a stickler for learning and immensely
    supportive. She made fabulous fried chicken. She was one of my favorite
    teachers at Columbia and I have fond memories of her and her class. I think,
    thanks to her efforts, I can work as a journalist in all forms - newspaper,
    magazine and broadcast writing. Prof. Garland was that magical combination
    of an excellent journalist and a wonderful teacher.
16. From Luis Moreno-Gomez, J’63:
    May the Lord grant her a peaceful rest and courage to the faculty members at the school, where she is going to be missed.
17. From Janice L. Greene, J’82:
    Phyl was my Reporting and Writing instructor, where her incisive editing, encouragement and compassion for a young, confused, aspiring reporter helped build my confidence and increase my respect for the art and skill involved in reporting and writing, journalism’s core.

    Ten years later when I approached her for mid career advice, she encouraged me still. I regret that I kept postponing a visit to her while she was in hospice. I had been thinking of her off these last few months, but those thoughts inexplicably returned and intensified in recent days. Now I know why. Even at 71, Phyl left the world far too soon.

18. From Cy Welch, J’81:
    Phyl Garland was the kind of professor at the J-School that really expressed
    her generosity in assisting students to dig deep for their gifts. Professor
    Garland was my Reporting and Writing Instructor and because of her astute
    approach to bringing out my best, I successfully graduated in the 1981 class. I
    continued my relationship with Professor Garland after graduation as a personal
    friend. She was a welcomed guest in my California home in 1997,Professor
    Garland was still helping me, as she edited a piece I was working on at the
    time. Professor Garland was very proud of my accomplishments as one of her
    students and friend working in Cable Television. Phyl Garland was so very
    special to me. May her soul rest in peace.
19. From Martha Irvine, J ‘94; Associated Press national writer, Chicago
    Phyl Garland was my Master’s Project adviser and a well-loved professor — one who alway pushed me to be better, to stretch beyond what I thought was possible, to challenge how I saw the world around me.
    I grew a great deal during my time and Columbia, professionally and personally — and Phyl was among those who provided the space and care that allowed me to do that.
    She will be greatly missed and fondly remembered, always, with gratitude, affection and respect.
20. From Anisa Mehdi, J’82; president Whetstone Productions:
    Thanks to Phyl’s encouragement I published my first (and last!) story in the
    NY Daily News. For her class I’d reported on the Queens Museum and with
    Phyl’s red-penning and my re-writes the News picked it up. It was a
    two-page center piece story with a giant photo and my by-line. I got paid
    $25 to boot!

    Years later I became arts and culture correspondent for New Jersey public
    television and Phyl asked me to come in and talk to her class.

    The arts were never fluff to Phyl. These were the pillars and grit of human
    potential; the barometer of any society’s sucess.

    I am grateful for her vision.

21. From Richard Wexler, J’76; Executive Director, National Coalition for Child Protection Reform:
    When Phyl retired, she asked some of her former students to speak
    at her retirement party.
    At the time I made some notes, but didnt write it all down
    because, as I explained then, Phyl might see it, and find out that I *still* can’t spell.
    But I explained that it was no coincidence that I wound up in her
    RW1 class. I lived in New York City and Id gotten a tip that one could look
    at the comments previous classes had made about the faculty.
    One look at what the Class of 75 said and I begged to be let
    into Phyl’s RW1 class in the fall.
    And the comments Id read didnt even tell the whole story.
    They only hinted at how much would be gained from the class discussions the
    arguments with classmates. Theyd run well past the end of class and
    spill out into the hall and keep right on going as we marched downstairs from the
    5th floor.
    Phyls RW1 class was a no cynicism zone. A lot of us went
    into journalism if not to change the world then at least to improve one corner of
    it. We always came out of RW1 more energized in that mission. If the fire
    to do that kind of work wasnt there at the beginning, Phyl lit it; if it was
    already there, Phyl stoked it.
    And then there were the comments on our papers, the ones that always got to
    the heart of what was wrong and how to set it right. But most important was
    how she did it: Phyl always knew the difference between being tough and being
    mean. Our papers bled red ink, but we were never cut.
    So we could experiment, we could be free to try new things and
    get some mistakes out of our systems.
    Once I remember experimenting a bit with the line between news and opinion.
    As we went over that paper during a conference, Phyl came to that part and
    said: WHAT in the world were you doing? but followed immediately by her
    trademark laugh.
    I wanted to see if you could do that in a news story, I said.
    Well, you CANT! Phyl said, followed by another hearty laugh.
    And then talked about what could be done.
    All this had a bonus. I didnt know in 1976 that someday Id spend a few
    years teaching an undergraduate version of RW1; so it turned out, Phyl also
    taught me how to teach.
    It went beyond RW1. Phyls office was one of the oases of kindness at
    the school; and I dont know that Id have gotten through the year without it.
22. From John H. Britton, special assistant to the President, Meharry Medical College
    When we both worked for Johnson Publishing Company, Inc. - she for
    Ebony; I for Jet - Phyl Garland never failed to display the class, the
    dignity and the decency that informed all that she did, including
    especially her writing. She was a superb reporter and writer, and she
    possessed remarkable skills as a judge of news.

    I admired her intensely. I learned from her the important doors that an easy smile can open. And I regret deeply my failure to maintain contact
    with her during the autumn of our years.

    May she rest in peace. And may the life she lived - the dash between
    her date of birth and time of death - illuminate the roadmap guiding
    survivors who aspire to her kind of productive life and quality living.

23. From Terry Gildea, J’04; reporter, Capitol News Connection with PRI
    I was one of the lucky few to draw Phyl as my master’s project adviser
    during her last year at the j-school. When my fellow students would vent
    about how their advisers were too busy with other duties to care about
    their work, I was always the exception. Phyl spent an enormous amount
    of time working with me and the others in my group. When I told her my
    intention to write about celibacy in the Roman Catholic priesthood, she
    encouraged me to run after the story. She taught me how to interview
    and gave me the tools to write copy that engages the reader. Her wisdom
    and intellect were rivaled only by a profound grace she shared with
    everyone that crossed her path. Phyl invited us to her Greenwich Village
    apartment for one of our last meetings as a group. She greeted the four
    of us with her wonderful smile and enough food to feed twenty people.
    Hours later, she wouldn’t let anyone leave until we took all of the food
    with us. Phyl was the kind of once in a lifetime mentor that few get
    the chance to work with. I am truly blessed to have known her.
24. From Liz Willen J’87; assistant director, Hechinger Institute on Education and the Media, Teachers College, Columbia University
    I’ll never forget her laugh. I might have been intimidated by
    Professor Garland, except for that when I first sat down in her
    office for a chat, I must have (mistakenly in my j-school anxiety)
    said something funny, and she just started roaring with laughter.
    After that, we spoke often - about race, city politics, my thesis on
    Coney Island, music - twice I ran into her at jazz festivals and
    concerts) politics and the little tricks and details that could turn
    a dull story into a richer, more thorough and nuanced piece of work.
    She was one of those teachers who stay with you always, and we kept
    in touch for years. What a loss for the J-school.
25. From Duy Linh Tu, J’98; adjunct professor; founder, ResolutionSeven.com
    I took Professor Garland’s Arts and Culture reporting class in the Spring
    semester of my year at J-School. She was a great professor, but my fondest
    memory of her had nothing to do with the classroom. At the end of the
    course, she invited our class over to her apartment for some of the best
    homemade fried chicken I’ve ever tasted. The dinner party became an evening
    of storytelling; Prof. Garland had a great way of turning simple moments
    from her past into the most vivid anecdotes. And for a few hours, she
    helped me (and I suspect many of my fellow classmates) to forget about the
    pressures of J-School, deadlines, and finding a job, and she reminded us all
    of the power of a good stories and great company.
26. From Francis Ward, former Ebony colleague and currently a professor at Syracuse University:
    My wife, Val Ward, and I had known Phyl since 1967 when Phyl and I both
    worked for Ebony Magazine. She and I often talked about the upheaval events
    of the 1960’s and what a momentous a decade this was. Both of us were often
    irritated to the point of pure outrage when we heard or read comments that
    the 1960’s were only about Woodstock, getting high, using drugs and free
    sex. Phyl and I also shared a common and very deep belief that journalism
    should play an important part in bringing about positive social change.

    Val and I last saw Phyl during the Spring 2004 semester when she came to
    Syracuse University as a panelist for a conference on the 50th anniversary
    of the famous Brown vs. Broad of Education Supreme Court decision. We shared
    many remembrances at the time. I’m sure all of us feel a sense of great loss
    at Phyl’s untimely passing. But this is a time when all of us should recommit ourselves to the fundamental goals of freedom, justice and equality.

    Phyl, you will be missed, but never forgotten.

27. From Gayle Pollard Terry, ‘73, Feature Writer, Los Angeles Times:
    I am responsible for Phyl Garland joining the faculty of the J school. In
    the spring of ‘73, I complained to the dean about the lack of black women
    who were professors. Asked for recommendations, I suggested: Charlayne
    Hunter-Gault, then on leave from The New York Times; Marquita Poole, a J-school alum
    and a producer for CBS and Phyl Garland, then on the staff of
    Ebony magazine and based in New York. A year earlier, Phyl Garland swept
    through a Women in Communications conference, identified the three black
    student attendees and invited us to her home for dinner. She regaled us
    with stories from her career, and encouraged our aspirations. For years,
    she had no idea how she had come to the attention of the J school. The rest
    is history.
28. From Elise Virginia Ward, J’79; 9th Decade, Inc/The Theodore Ward Collection
    :
    Phyl Garland and I met in her Spring term magazine writing class. In striking contrast to the staid Professor Luther Jackson, Phyl could often be found scurrying around the building in her serape, like a sort of pixilated hippie, or looking up from under a pile of overdue student evaluations. In reality, she was a brilliant, focused, critical analyst whose importance to the J School’s women and students of color was profound and lasting.

    Phyl’s office suite mate, Penn Kimball, was my R & W 1 instructor and, despite their frequent irritation with one another, each became my friend. Later, during the period when he and I both worked for Ed Logue in the South Bronx, Penn told me Phyl was being considered for tenure, and I asked him to head up her committee. Two things stand out from that period: Her CV, which was more than ten pages long, and a wonderful article she’d written entitled Why I Stayed in the Black Press.

    She loved women’s tennis and Tiger Woods and Wynton Marsalis and Mahler as much as Ellington. She loved to cook and she loved her family.

    Our sisterhood was precious.

29. Esther Iverem, editor and publisher, www.SeeingBlack.com
    While Phyl was on sabbatical during my year at the J-School (’83),
    she was my mentor during the inaugural year of the National Arts
    Journalism Program, 1994-95. She was an endless source of
    inspiration, kindess and encouragement to me and the other two
    fellows, whom she affectionately referred to as her “children.” I
    will always be grateful for her encouragement of my voice as a critic
    and for her insistence that Black people write about and critique our
    own culture. I have dedicated my forthcoming book on Black film to
    her.
30. From Dennis Halpin, J’74:
    I was very saddened to learn of Professor Garland’s death. I was a member of her first class when she came to Columbia to serve as our faculty mentor in 1973-74. As we were all newly arrived, we shared a special bond in finding our way through the maze of Columbia Journalism School. I last saw her at our 20th class reunion in 1994 and told her I was then heading off to China. This was no surprise to her as she had encouraged me to write my Master’s thesis on my Peace Corps experiences in Korea when I was her student two decades earlier. Although I never made a career in journalism (one summer only at Associated Press in Chicago) I made use of the writing skills Professor Garland helped to cultivate in my work in government, first with the State Department and later as a staff member in the House of Representatives. Professor Garland shared her love of other cultures and taught, with her hearty laugh and twinkling eyes, how to see the hidden gems below the surface in any culture. She will be greatly missed. May she rest in peace. My sympathy to her family and friends.
31. From Peter White, J98:
    I am saddened to hear the news of Prof Garland’s death. How many times
    did she bring her class to her apartment downtown for a real Southern
    fried chicken dinner? Dozens probably. And she spent most of the time
    preparing and frying that chicken herself–refusing any help with a
    work she took complete ownership of. That is what I learned from her
    about writing.

    She was my teacher for the basic news writing and reporting class. As a
    rather privileged white boy and raised on Reader’s Digest, Phyl Garland
    was one unforgettable character. I remember her piece on Beverly
    Sills. She passed out the profile she had penned about the famous opera
    singer as an example of how to get inside a character and share with
    the reader her passion and respect for her subject.

    Personally, I didn’t give a rat’s ass about the civil rights era or
    opera either for that matter but Phyl’s piece made me care about those
    things in spite of myself. Sills respect for her craft, her talent,
    and indomitable spirit in a very European art form was an
    accomplishment that transcended race and class. And Phyl ’s enormous
    respect and understanding for Sills came through in every line. She
    cared tremendously and made the reader care with the feeling she had
    for Sills tucked in between the lines–not just the language and
    structure of the piece.

    It’s kind of like a cracker thinking Mohammed Ali was the best fighter
    of all time. That might seem like a weird analogy. But Phyl could not
    only get the reader to embrace complex and contradictory feelings about
    an issue but also to transform the reader’s heart about it, too. And
    that was a very powerful gift she had.

    She was very kind and astute and taught with a gentleness that
    encouraged rather than shamed. I was very privileged to know her.

32. Diane Powell-Larche’ - Phyl Garland’s mom was her mentor
    To really love and appreciate Phyl Garland you had to know her
    parents, especially her mom Hazel Garland. I learned of Phyl’s passing just today as I
    read stories on blackamericaweb.com. As a person who reads many
    publications daily, I was stunned that this news escaped me until
    now.

    Hazel Garland was my mentor and I her protege. As a reporter with the
    Pittsburgh Courier fresh out of the University of Pittsburgh, I was
    Mrs. Garland’s project. She taught me the “ropes” of writing for a
    newspaper and most importantly, she taught me the importance of
    women’s rights and being a leader of the cause.

    I attribute my deep committment to the rights of women, particularly
    black women, to Mrs. Garland. She invited me to a women’s tea in her
    beloved home town of McKeesport the first week of my job. She even
    paid the $5 fee for the tea. I could not make it and she and Alma
    Speed Fox of the NAACP in Pittsburgh kept after me.

    Today I am a member of the League of Women Voters of Atlanta board of
    directors and a charter member of the Atlanta Commission on Women. I write often
    about women’s causes and issues all due to my “training” received
    from Mrs. Garland.

    Phyl was her pride and joy and we spent hours discussing Phyl’s
    achievements. Phyl was so much like her mother and that wonderful
    glowing smile is one that she inherited from Mrs. Garland.

A note from Prof. Sig Gissler…

From: Sig Gissler, sg138 [at]columbia.edu

Dear all:

With very mixed emotions, I plan to step down as a RW1 teacher at the end of
this semester after 13 straight years in the classroom. It has been a
wonderful run. And I can’t depart without thanking everyone for his or her
support, good cheer and friendship. My course, to a great extent, reflects
the distilled wisdom you have shared with me.

I will continue to administer the Pulitzer program, which is a full-time job
in itself and getting more complex as we more fully embrace online
components in the competition. I’m also thinking of possibly crafting a
less-demanding three-credit course that would draw on the best of
Pulitzer-winning material; or perhaps I’ll just coach some master’s projects
as I did in the past. I certainly would like to maintain links to the
students.

Yes, RW1 can be tiring. But, with the help of stellar adjuncts, it has been
an honor to teach the course and work with so many talented students and
colleagues. As I told David and Nick the other evening, I’ve spent the
happiest days of my profesional life in this school.

Warm regards, Sig
Sig Gissler, administrator
Pulitzer Prizes
Graduate School of Journalism
Columbia University
2950 Broadway
New York, NY 10027

Dear Students:

As some of you know, one of the top political writers in American journalism
joined the faculty this fall when Tom Edsall, a veteran Washington Post
reporter was named the first Pultizer-Moore professor in Politics and
Journalism (bio below).

To give you an opportunity to see him in action, Prof. Edsall is going to
give a talk on Nov. 1, during the day. Please see the details below and RSVP
for this session. He is one of the most astute and experienced observers of
our political scene - you won’t want to miss this.

Please join Prof. Tom Edsall
Pulitzer-Moore Chair in Politics and Journalism

For a discussion on “Elections 2006″

Wednesday, November 1, 2006

11:30 a.m. - 12:30 p.m.
Journalism Building, Room 607A
Light refreshments will be served.

RSVP: JODI LIPPER
Limited seating.

BIO: Thomas B. Edsall covered national politics for 25 years at the
Washington Post. He is now a correspondent for The New Republic and
The National Journal. He is also a frequent contributor to such
magazines as The Atlantic, the New York Review of Books, the New
Republic, Harper’s, The American Prospect, the Nation, the Washington
Monthly, and Dissent. His awards include the Carey McWilliams Award
of the American Political Science Association, the Bill Pryor Award of
the Newspaper Guild, a year-long fellowship at the Woodrow Wilson
International Center for Scholars, and five Media Fellowships at the
Hoover Institution at Stanford University.

One of Edsall’s primary interests is the growth and strength of the
conservative coalition and Republican Party over the past four
decades. He is the author of Building Red America: the New
Conservative Coalition and the Drive for Permanent Power, which was
released in August, 2006. A previous book, Chain Reaction: the Impact
of Race, Rights, and Taxes, was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for
Nonfiction in 1992. In 1983, he wrote The New Politics on Inequality.
Before joining the Washington Post in 1981, Edsall worked for 14 years
at the Baltimore Evening Sun and the Baltimore Sun, covering a wide
range of local and national beats. In 1965-1966, he served in the
VISTA (Volunteers in Service to America) program, working in East
Baltimore. In 1965, Edsall covered suburban county governments in
South Rhode Island for the Providence Journal-Bulletin. Born in
Cambridge, Mass., Edsall received a B.A. degree in political science
from Boston University. He is married to Mary Deutsch Edsall and they
have one daughter, Alexandra Edsall-Victor, and two grandchildren,
Thomas and Lydia Victor.

A tip from Jon Dube, J’97, and his Cyberjournalist.net blog.

TimesSelect University
The New York Times is offering a special offer for college and university students and faculty that allows them to subscribe to TimesSelect for one year at $24.95, half the regular annual subscription fee of $49.95. TimesSelect University will only be available to current students and faculty.

Students and faculty can go to nytimes.com/university to sign up for TimesSelect and receive the 50% discount. Students and faculty who read The Times through their colleges’ readership programs will receive TimesSelect access cards from their colleges. The cards contain individual access codes that enable students and faculty to sign up for TimesSelect through the end of that academic semester.

Another in our “Notes From…” series - short notes by volunteers summarizing various events around the school, to help those of us who didn’t/couldn’t attend. Watch for several other “Notes From…” throughout the year (if you have one, send it in - or let us know in advance that you’d like to do one).

Below, highlights of the Sig Gissler’s talk about how to cover a beat. Many thanks to volunteer notes-takers Sheena Tahilramani and Irene Liu. Feel free to drop them a note or post a comment below (free, one-time registration required).

Notes From… Prof. Sig Gissler’s lecture: “How to Cover Your Beat”
By Sheena Tahilramani, J2007; e-mail: sat2127[at]columbia.edu
and Irene Liu, J2007; e-mail: ijl2105[at]columbia.edu

Listen to audio recording here:
http://www.jrn.columbia.edu/students/class_lectures.asp

[Introduction by Dean Sreenivasan]

It is my honor to introduce Sig Gissler, professor and administrator of the Pulitzer Prizes.

Sig Gissler is one of my favorite people at the J-school and one of this University’s treasures. You are all very lucky to have him as a professor - either in RWI or in sesssions like this. When I was a student here, we weren’t lucky enough to have Prof. Gissler on the faculty. But he has been a teacher and guide to me ever since his arrival here in 1994. I have picked
up tips on reporting, on editing and how to be a better professor - but I feel like I am always trying to catch up. He came to the school after a distinguished career as an editor in Milwaukee and brought with him decades of journalism experience - and a bucketful of midwestern, Scandinavian aphorisms. Those aphorisms and a unique teaching style that encourages you
all to “go there” have inspired generations of students and colleagues alike, resulting in his being named the school’s Teacher of the Year in 1998, and his winning Columbia’s highest teaching award in 2003.

[ Despite his folksiness, he has a geeky side. He was one of the first professors here to edit stories with the “tracking changes” in Word and he embraced digital photography, wireless networking and similar technologies long before most of the faculty, as has his wife, the wonderful Mary Gissler, who offers his students brownies and invaluable advice of her own.]

As administrator of the Pulitzers, he has been given stewardship of one of the journalism’s most imporant institutions and he has taken that to another level as well.

Everywhere in the world I go, his former students, friends and colleagues ask me to say hello to him and many of them say to me what I started my introduction with: You are lucky to have him.

Ladies and gents, Sig Gissler…

WHAT IS A BEAT:
It’s a topical or geographic area assigned to a reporter for regular coverage.
Examples of topical areas are education, politics and business. Examples of geographical areas are a city, county, neighborhood.

ATTRIBUTES OF A GOOD REPORTER:

• Works on the three fundamentals–sources, story ideas and execution plans (the “trifecta”)
• Works rigorously on three levels — short range, medium and long — juggling a mix of ideas
• Serves as a watchdog — accountability journalism
• Shows good organization
  - Organize your sources by affiliation
  - Get contact info: mobile, work, home numbers, email
  - Have these numbers so that if you have to, you can call late at night; you can say that you are “calling in the interest of accuracy.”
  - Cultivate sources
  - Keep a running list of story ideas, compiled by topic and subject.
• Stays in touch with editor (without being a pest) “Don’t interview the city desk, interview the city.”

“BEAT NOTES”
Make the best use of your time in August. This is an opportunity to put “hay in the barn” (if you are from the midwest), or “nuts in the nest.” Use this month to find sources, issues, story ideas.
Step 1: See what has already been written
Step 2: Make some initial contacts.

ATTRIBUTION:
All you know is what you’ve been told. Attribute everything, over attribute.

HOW TO APPROACH YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD:

• Attitude and appearance: Have a positive attitude, one of “joyful entitlement”. Build sources one at a time; don’t get bogged down by the enormity of the work. At the end of a meeting/interview, always ask for additional sources. Polite persistence. Don’t be needlessly confrontational. Be a sponge. We reflect the university and our profession so it’s important to maintain a professional appearance. Men should carry a tie wherever they go because you never know when you may be assigned to cover a funeral or other somber event.

• Good start: U.S. Census, “community district needs” handbooks (books created by the 59 community boards that identify “greatest needs” of each neighborhood. Take with a grain of salt, but a good starting resource. RW1 professors have copies), website for Department of City Planning.
  
• Libraries: Libraries provide back issues of community newspapers and other great sources that can be used to learn about this history. The histories of your neighborhoods are important to investigate. Look for defining moments in the history of your community…for example, the burning of the South Bronx. 
• Community Boards: 59 districts, largely advisory bodies. Try to talk to the district manager. However, don’t despair if you are rebuffed. The community board is not the golden fleece.
• Museums in boroughs
• Local historians: Residents who serve as informal historians to the area. Can give you a sense of the history, changes in the neighborhoods over time. The burrough presidents’ offices may be able to point you to them.
• Elected officials: Know the elected officials in your area… city council members, district attorney, congressmen/women, assemblymen/women, etc.
• Police: “Destined to be a murky relationship”. “America’s only fully-armed minority group.” Start at the precinct level. Talk to a community affairs officer or youth officer. Crime statistics by precincts will give you a sense of crime patterns. If referred to the Deputy Commissioner of Public Information, be persistent and you might get lucky. Cops really do like to talk.
  
• Firefighters: Firefighters can be a wonderful source. They’re considered heroes in NYC. They see a lot, they know a lot and they’re often gregarious characters. (if you are a freelancer, see
  http://www.nyc.gov/html/nypd/html/dcpi/presscred.html
• Mayor’s Management Report
• Churches, mosques, synagogues: “Havens in a heartless world.” Churches are a safe haven in the community. Be sure to talk to leaders and members. 
• Community Based Organizations: They are everywhere. Some have storefront offices, many are connected to umbrella groups.
• Schools: Try to meet the principal, PTA, Parent Coordinator (a staff liaison to parents), union reps, etc. Getting inside may be difficult due to “bunker” mentally, so you might have to report from the outside in. You might need a “passport” but you need to keep pushing.

• Hospitals: A good source on neighborhood health issues. Walk in and just wander around, better to beg forgiveness than ask for permission. 

• The Old: “Wallpaper of the human existence.” Senior citizens are the “eyes of the neighborhood.” They can provide you with a sense of history and context, they’ve witnessed the history of the community. They also have a lot of time. Can be found on the porch, in senior centers. 

• Shopping Areas: Show a good cross section of humanity and are good places to spot fashion trends among the young. Oftentimes, people are more willing to talk while shopping. 

• Community newspapers: Give a sense of what is going on it the community, issues, etc. Talk with editors and reporters; they can give you a sense of the problems and issues in the neighborhoods. An opportunity to pitch articles and get clips. 
• Parks: Look for places, like parks, where people slow down. People may be more willing to pause and talk to you. 
• Colleges: There are colleges all around the city. You may find story ideas. For example: welfare mothers trying to get an education to get out of their situations, innovative efforts to include minority kids in education.
• Sanitation workers: Rarely get interviewed, but are great sources, as are janitors, custodians, building superintendents. 
• Real estate offices: People in the real estate industry watch/are aware of trends in the area. 
• Bus depots: Drivers go up and down the street day after day, they know what’s going on. It is also a good place to catch cops coming home from work. 
• Coffee shops, bodegas and bars: Don’t forget the bars.

A LITTLE ABOUT TECHNIQUE:

• Review safety tips.
• Take a list of professors and phone numbers in case you get in a bind/trouble.
• Build up your comfort level and go with your gut.
• Don’t get complacent; it’s still a big city. The buddy system is a good option.
• Get a map.
• Don’t wait for phone calls…go there, go there and go there!
• Look up…look at the signs, second floors. We are constantly seeing things at eye level but, if you look around, there is so much more.
• Subway life is fascinating. A parallel of the world above. 
• Talk to strangers.
• Try the back door when stymied by a source. If you cannot talk to the principal, talk to the PTA.
• Get the Green Book: http://www.nyc.gov/html/dcas/html/features/greenbook.shtml
• Find the “mayor” of the neighborhood or the block. Every neighborhood has a self-appointed know-it-all.
• Think of creating your own “board of directors” made up of four or five people that are connected in the community, people you can go to get quick information.
• Establish “listening posts”; find your places to go and get info.
• Never burn a source. If you say you won’t include a quote, don’t include it. If you make a commitment, keep it.
• Nurture your sources; you can learn a lot from them. Show them your “published” story. This helps future Columbia students.
• Finally, learn to treasure the indomitable spirit of New York City.

Q&A:

• Q:Do you recommend tape recorders?
  A: Tape recorders can be useful, especially if a confrontational interview/story, but one of the problems is transcribing the tape. It is a tool and you should use it depending on the circumstances. 
• Q: How should we deal with translation?
  A: Maybe try to find a young person that can translate or help you communicate with a subject. Beyond that, you have to try to deal with it. 
• Q: Is there anyone that you we should not talk to on our beat?
  A: As a class or kind of person, everyone is fair game. 
• Q: What if you’re interviewing and the person becomes uncomfortable with a certain topic or wants to take something off the record?
  A: You can go on and off the record…people have a right to wall-off portions of the conversation that they don’t want published. 
• Q: How do you deal with a source that provides you with great information but wants to remain anonymous?
  You need to set some ground rules at the beginning of the interview. If you do this, the source knows that what he/she says is fair game. If you leave the situation very murky then it can be much more of a contentious situation. Clarity, clarity, clarity! 
• Q: Offering and accepting things from sources?
  In a professional setting, you don’t want to be accepting things from sources. But don’t worry about accepting a cup of coffee.

SOME GISSLERISMS:

• “Keep an open mind, but don’t let your brain fall out.” 
• “Taking information off the Internet is like taking food off the street. Be careful.” 
• “Sometimes you’re the windshield and sometimes you’re the bug.”
  

Q: What computer discounts can I get through Columbia?
A: Columbia has negotiated discounts for students and faculty with companies such as Dell and Apple and at J&R Computer World, a major NYC retailer. You can learn about all the discounts here:
http://www.columbia.edu/acis/sales/.

You can also read the University’s pre-purchasing advice (written for a campus-wide audience): http://www.columbia.edu/acis/sales/pre-purchase.html.

HOW TO FIX YOUR E-MAIL IDENTITY
One of the more frustrating things with our e-mail system is that Cubmail doesn’t automatically put your name in the “from” lines. So faculty and administrators end up getting e-mail from, say,
“srt2879@columbia.edu” and we have no idea who it is (especially when there’s no signature file in the message itself). Worse, some e-mail programs treat such senders as spammers and dump the message automatically into junk-mail folders. There’s a one-time, two-minute solution, and it is explained below. Please take time to do this.

If you try this and it doesn’t work, please e-mail consultant@columbia.edu explaining what you did. Also, while the problem is being fixed, please write your name and affiiliation in the subject lines of messages you send to DOS, faculty, etc. eg, “Marie Jones - M.S. print - with question about housing.”

Lauch CUBMAIL at https://cubmail.cc.columbia.edu

Go to OPTIONS

Go to PERSONAL INFORMATION

Go to EDIT YOUR IDENTITIES

Choose DEFAULT IDENTITY

Add your full name there, and any other details you wish.

[You can have a different “reply-to” address, add auto signatures, etc].

You need to do this only if you plan to use CUBMAIL (which almost all
students do at some point).

And please don’t forget to routinely sign your messages with your full
name in the body of the message - and to include a phone number, too.

Thanks and good luck with your e-mail (or if you prefer, email).

- Dean Sreenivasan

Last updated: Feb. 26, 2007, 10 a.m. Latest additions - NYT obit + audio clips + link to “The Struggle Against Forgetting”
Link directly to these tributes: http://snurl.com/jamescarey
Five sets of items below about the death of Prof. James W. Carey - one of the best known teachers in our business and winner of the 2005 “Teacher of the Year” Award at the Columbia Graduate School of Journalism. His bio is here.

1. Memo from Dean Nicholas Lemann about Prof. Carey’s passing.
2. Details of funeral arrangements and contact info.
3. Links to articles about his passing, including an eloquent tribute by Roy Peter Clark of the Poynter Institute.
4. Links to selected writings of James Carey, including “The Struggle Against Forgetting.”
5. Notes from former students and colleagues - share your thoughts here:
   Sree Sreenivasan - ss221@columbia.edu (subject line = Prof. Carey) - please indicate your connection to him.

- - -

Note from Sree: Among the links below is an audio-only podcast of a 1991 interview conducted by David Shedden. Roy Peter Clark wrote in to say, “Make sure you listen to the last two minutes of this audio clip, and share it with your colleagues.” I listened to the entire eight minutes and Roy’s right about the power of those last two minutes (and it was great to hear his voice again - you can also hear him emphasizing his points by forcefully tapping the table). Here’s what he said, 15 years before his death (you can listen to the audio here):

David Shedden: Jim, we are coming to the end of the interview and wondered if you might have a final thought on this life you have led and the things that you have written.

Jim Carey: There are no final thoughts. I quote all the time these wonderful lines of Kenneth Burke… Life is a conversation. When we enter, it is already going on. We try to catch the drift of it. We exit before it’s over. The first lesson any pragmatist learns is that at the hour of our death, we are rewriting our biography for the last time. And then the first hour into our death, someone else rewrites the biography for us. Our children, our spouses, our friends. Do you remember what he was like… what he said… what he did… And so in that sense, life is a conversation that continuously goes on, that continuously renews itself, and, therefore, renews you. All work is a matter of self-renewal, which is a renewal of the other. No one has the last word. There are no final thoughts, there is no end to the conversation.

- - -

From: Nicholas Lemann
Subject: Sad news
Tuesday, May 23, 2006

Dear Friends,

James W. Carey of our faculty died in his sleep last night, at his family’s home in Wakefield, Rhode Island. His family was at his side and he was not in any pain.

There is so much to say about Jim that I can’t do anything but scratch the surface now. Suffice it to say that he was a figure of world renown in the field of communications scholarship, the founder of our Ph.D. program, longtime teacher with Steve Isaacs of Critical Issues, and a man with a rare gift for touching practically everybody he met. He was a magical teacher. As is not universal in the upper-academic realm where Jim dwelt professionally, he loved journalists, and believed that universities have something important to teach us. (Jim’s last major accomplishment at the school was writing the syllabus for an ambitious new full-year course, which he never got to teach, called “A History of Journalism for Journalists.”) He is primarily responsible for our being just about the only journalism school where professional scholars and professional journalists live in true harmony, friendship, mutual respect, and collaboration–that’s a rare and precious gift.

Jim’s funeral will probably be this weekend in Wakefield–details TK as we
learn them–and after Labor Day the school and the Carey family will stage a full-dress memorial services. In the meantime, I’m sure Bette would appreciate any condolences, especially if they arrive electronically and not over the phone.

Best,
Nick Lemann

- - -

Funeral Services
Wake: 7-9pm, Friday May 26
Nardolillo’s Funeral Home
1111 Boston Neck Rd. (Route 1A)
Narragansett, RI
tel. 401 789 6300

Funeral mass: 10.00am Saturday May 27
St. Francis of Assisi
128 High St.
Wakefield, RI

Reception follows the mass, c. 11.30am
University Club
University of Rhode Island
95 Upper College Rd.
South Kingston, RI

- - -

If you wish to write a note to Bette Carey and the family:
Carey Family
362 South Road
Wakefield, RI 02879-7611

- - -

Stories about James Carey’s Death

• The New York Times: Obituary (May 26, 2006)
• Poynter’s Roy Peter Clark: A Model for Journalists and Scholars Alike
• MTI’s David Thoburn: In Memoriam
Providence Journal: James W. Carey, journalism scholar, teacher, dies at 71 | Family’s obiturary | Online guestbook
• NYU’s Jay Rosen: An Appreciation (from 1996)
• Poynter’s David Shedden: A 1991 interview, via podcast (audio only)

- - -

Links to Selected Works of James W. Carey

• “The Struggle Against Forgetting” - an essay from his Sept. 1995 opening day speech at Columbia.
• James Carey: A Critical Reader (a book read around the world)
• Communication as Culture (Univ. of Colorado at Boulder)
• Audio clips of Prof. Carey’s lectures on the History of Journalism to the M.A. class at Columbia:
  Jan. 24, 2006, 54 min, with Prof. Andie Tucher | Mar. 28, 2006, 1 hour, 45 min (unedited; recorded by student Elva Ramirez).

- - -

Comments From Former Students & Colleagues
The newest ones are being added to the top.

1. Erika Angulo, J1996
   Professor Carey was a kind boss and a brilliant teacher. I was lucky
   to be his research assistant during my time at the J School
   (1995-96). I was also lucky to be his student in his religion class.
   He himself studied constantly, researching, reading, looking for the
   wider historical perspective of each news story. He had such a vast
   knowledge of journalism, ethics, history, and countless other fields
   that it was sometimes intimidating to have a conversation with him,
   yet he showed no ego. The son of immigrants, he once mentioned he
   was amazed he had made it that far. He loved his family and his job.
   I feel blessed I got to know him.
2. From: Alex Puissant, J1999 (writing from Brussels, Belgium)
   There was nothing fake about this man.
   Nothing was ostentatious
   about this teacher
   who had so much to share.

   He cared. He was an example.

   He was a proud American
   in the best sense
   who saw the conversation of journalism
   as truly worthwile, in any society,
   so human beings can be true to themselves,
   as he was.
   Goodbye, Professor Carey.

3. Pamela Troutman Palmer, J1998
   In Fall 1997, I think, Professor Carey taught a course on the political and
   social dynamics influencing media in the 20th century. I’m not exactly sure
   of the semester, but what I do remember is that the course was offered in
   the evening. I would arrive, along with about 20 other students, tired
   from a full day of work. But once Carey’s lecture began, the ensuing lively
   discourse reinvigorated us. For Carey would prod, push and cajole us to
   turn issues inside out and examine them anew. He punctuated his instruction
   with humorous asides, and then seamlessly brought the discussion back to his
   original thesis. At the time, I remember initially feeling intimidated by
   his accomplishments and stature. But as we became better acquainted, I
   realized that Carey really was a man who knew a great deal about some
   things, did his best to share them and remain a decent human being in the
   process. And that is the essential meaning of “teacher.”
4. Todd Gitlin, Columbia Journalism Professor

It comes back to me that the oldest debt I owe to Jim Carey goes back about twenty-five years. I had just published The Whole World Is Watching and through some comedy of errors the book had been picked up off the New York Times Book Review’s shelf by a journeyman hack reviewer with a political grudge who sneered at my use of rarefied terms like “hegemony” and “paradigm” by way of avoiding reckoning with the slightest trace of the book’s arguments. My letter ensued, with the Book Review’s editor halving it before running it. The Chronicle of Higher Education commissioned a piece on the contretemps, and the piece quoted Jim, then dean of the College of Communication at the University of Illinois, saying something to the effect that the field of media studies had been thin on theory for a long time and my book was welcome because it presented and defended theories.

To say I was enormously grateful would be an understatement, for Jim was one of the few visible people in media studies who took ideas seriously. Truth be told, when I finally met him, some 10 years later, I can’t remember talking about my book. I still don’t know whether he thought I was right or not, or what exactly his politics were, or what he was up to in the ’60s and how he lived the period I was writing about. But what interested him, in the Book Review squabble, was none of that, really. He was really defending three propositions: that a book reviewer ought not to be allergic to thinking, that thinking ought not to be alien to a newspaper, and that thinking about big social questions ought not to be alien to the study of journalism and mass communication, either.

As it happens, then, his defense of my book cut to the core of his big project: to muscling intellectual seriousness into a field that, because of its funding and the bureaucratic boundaries of the university and the cop-out that the social sciences were committed to, was adept at taking too many easy ways out.

Against this background, I can well understand how important was the confirmation he gave so many of his students over the years.

5. Mike Hoyt, Columbia Journalism colleague:

One of the many things that I liked about Jim Carey was his immunity from the disease of self-importance that sometimes afflicts journalists here on the little island of Manhattan. He valued all striving journalists and all good journalism, whether it served sports fans in Indiana or lawyers in Miami or teachers in Kansas City. Status was not part of his calculations. His wisdom was available to anyone smart enough to ask for it, and that big Irish smile was the bonus.
6. Deborah Wassertzug, Columbia Journalism colleague:

I always enjoyed my brief conversations with Professor Carey (may his memory be a blessing). One evening last winter, I saw him on the steps in front of the building, and we spoke about his health. He said that while his doctors wouldn’t give him a clear indication of whether he should retire, they all seemed to have a very good idea of what retirement should mean: They wondered why he wasn’t yearning to lie on beaches, drink rum and Cokes, and read magazines. It was a droll yet incredible insight on the medical profession - and the human condition - distilled into one sentence. Staring out over the plaza he sighed, and said in his charming
accent, “You know, the heart is a dark continent.” I went home and started a poem on this conversation, which I must finish now. May the many, many people who were touched by this extraordinary man find comfort in their memories of him.
7. Arlene Morgan, Columbia Journalism colleague
   I met Jim, as so many editors did, during a coaching session at an ASNE committee meeting on the changing news media. He was one of the most engaging, literate and gracious scholars the business has ever produced. And he was most certainly a poet about the role of a journalism in our society. It was an honor to work with him then and even more so when he became my colleague when I joined Columbia six years ago. His kindness and advice to everyone who knew him and his brillance in the classroom will never be replaced. He was one of a kind.
8. Julie Englander, J1999
   In my first go at grad school, at the University of Chicago, I took classes from luminaries J.M. Coetzee and Joseph Cropsey, and a fellow classmate pointed out to me, with a smirk, that these professors shared initials with someone else whose brilliance could only be explained by having a direct line to God–that is, Jesus Christ. I laughed then at my classmate’s joke, but when I reached Columbia, and found myself floored by Professor Carey’s first Critical Issues lecture, I realized, with a touch of amazement, that I was in the presence of yet another JC. And he lived up to the cockamamie theory of my old classmate: Professor Carey’s insights seemed not merely compassionate, not merely brilliant; they seemed, somehow, essential to how we work and live. He was profoundly humane and wise, and I feel extraordinarily lucky to have
   had the chance to learn from him.
9. Chay Hofileña, J1998
   The mid-career students of 1998 had Jim Carey as our adopted father. The late night classes of his were golden opportunities to just listen to him. We will remember the hospitality of his home that was extended to us (we truly felt privileged) and the celebratory luncheon treat after classes were over. Prof. Carey, thank you for the chance to be your student. You will surely be missed and you will leave a void difficult to fill.
10. Marta Bennett, J1998
    Like most, I “knew” Professor Carey through Critical Issues. I don’t recall any particularly memorable conversations with him but the sadness I felt when hearing of his passing has lingered with me these past few days. It is rare to come across a person whose intelligence, warmth, decency and caring can touch so many from so far. I am very lucky to have attended the Journalism School during his era. For me he embodies an important truth: very great people don’t advertise.
11. Lisa Spinelli, J2004

He was the only teacher at J-school that had nothing but pure good energy about him. There were other nice teachers, but he was on a whole other level. I am very sad even though I didn’t really know him well. He made me smile real big by just being in same the room.
12. LynNell Hancock, Columbia Journalism Professor:
    How can we even contemplate the loss of Jim Carey? It is impossible to imagine anyone filling the void he has left us. He was a superb scholar and a dedicated teacher. Students would often come into my office just to talk about Jim’s lecture in Critical Issues that morning, and how much it inspired them to scale impossible walls, or to think beyond the predictable. It happened so often, I came to expect the conversation every semester. Jim probably missed his calling as an international diplomat. He could quell any academic storm, with his calm wisdom, and kind attention to all the impassioned arguers. How many times did we have a volatile faculty meeting when one issue or another would threaten to consume us all in anger and confusion? Jim would then stand up and turn quietly around to face us, taking a deep breath, chuckling wryly, and settle the matter with a wise lesson in history, precedent and civility. He was a rare human being and the best kind of friend–kind, supportive, warm, expansive and funny. I will miss him terribly.
13. Victor Navasky, Columbia Journalism Professor
    Jim once proposed that we think of journalism as “an exercise in poetry”– and that, often, is the way he spoke. His idea was that we discard the notion that the job of the journalist is to bring the facts to a passive audience, and instead he recommended that we say goodbye to this “scientific” conception of journalism. He wrote: “All journalism can do is to preside over and within the conversation of our culture: to stimulate and organize it, to keep it moving, to leave a record of it sop that other conversations — art, science, religion — might have something off of which they can lead.” Talking with Jim was like that.
14. From: Chris Anderson, Columbia PhD Candidate
    Over the course of my three years at the Columbia, I have been honored
    to call Prof. Carey a mentor and an intellectual inspiration. But even
    more importantly, he was a truly wonderful and kind man. Brilliant *and*
    a kind — those of us who have spent some time world of academia know
    how infrequently those two adjectives are conjoined. Prof. Carey taught
    me that it is OK to study journalism in an “academic” way; one only need
    to have witnessed the biting hostility often expressed by academics with
    regard to journalism (”you’re getting a PhD in journalism?? What does
    that mean??”) to know what a valuable contribution that really is. Prof.
    Carey also reminded me, and still reminds me through his writings– that
    the media is nothing without democracy: it might exist, but its
    existence is hollow. In the dark times in which we live– times in which
    it seems like we have more and more media and less and less democracy–
    that’s a lesson worth holding on to.
15. From: Karina Alexanyan Fitch, Columbia PhD Candidate

I first met Prof. Carey about 4 years ago when I was considering applying to the Jschool Phd program. I remember being amazed that he would take the time to speak with me, and I remember leaving his office feeling like I had found a home. His background and mine are drastically different - Russian Jewish immigrant and Irish Catholic Midwesterner - and yet I felt that he understood me instantly. He had a breadth and generousity of spirit that could find a common ground with anyone. It took me a few weeks in class to figure out why I had such an instinctively warm response to him - there was something about his voice, his smile, the twinkle in his eye….and then it hit me - he reminded me of Santa! Prof. Careys essays, like his lectures, combine a mastery of language with a depth of scholarly thought with a compassionate understanding of human nature that is truly exceptional. Its why his works are classics - fundamental to the field. And why his lectures were always riveting and mind broadening. And why his presence will be sorely, sorely missed. I feel extremly fortunate to have known him.
16. From Andie Tucher, Columbia Journalism Professor and director of the PhD program

I first met Prof. Carey more than 20 years ago, when I was a graduate student groping my way into the virtually non-existent field of journalism history (or at least the virtually non-existent field of *good* journalism history). In a talk at a conference he was so insightful, provocative, witty, and inspiring — seemed to see and map so clearly what journalism history could do and be — that I rushed up to him afterwards to blurt “I’ve been looking for a man like you!” He handled that with his customary grace. And I’ve looked up to him ever since. I feel extraordinarily privileged and grateful to have worked with him at Columbia and to have enjoyed the generous warmth of his friendship and mentorship. The adjectives that spring to mind when I think of him would sound almost quaint applied to anyone else in the world — honorable, cordial, gallant, humane, public-spirited, open-hearted — but he was decidedly a citizen of our world and a sometimes exasperated lover of it as well. Our world will miss him.
17. From: Lucas Graves, Columbia PhD Candidate

I was lucky enough to take Jim’s proseminar two years ago. Before that I knew him only by reputation, and from a pair of brilliant essays. But spending a few hours with him each week I was struck by just how offhand his brilliance could be, how easily the most penetrating insights and perfect turns of phrase came to him; and by his uncommon quality of warmth and engagement which seemed to enliven every setting. I wish I’d had the opportunity to know him better, and I can only offer my deepest sympathy and the assurance that all of us in the PhD program are very proud to consider ourselves an enduring part of Jim Carey’s legacy.
18. Kim Khan, J1998:
    My favorite memory of Prof. Carey was outside the Critical Issues classroom, a class that I enjoyed immensely. I had a brief talk with him at the end of a class one Friday and then happened to run into him at the Columbus Circle subway that nigh. I shouted to him and it took him quite a while to recognize who I was. It was Halloween and I was dressed as Austin Powers. I don’t know if he every saw the movie, but he always remembered the costume when I saw him around the J-School.
19. Kurt Gottschalk, J1997
    One of my fondest memories from Columbia was running to the bookstore after Lonnie Guinier spoke in his class. I had to get to LaGuardia to catch a flight to Chicago but wanted her book for the trip. I almost missed the plane but ran aboard at the last minute, disheveled and panting, still holding the book I hadn’t bothered to put in my suitcase. And there was Father Carey, sitting in first class, looking at me and looking at the book and smiling broadly. There’s something nice about those moments in life when nothing needs to be sa