Oscar Wilde

We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely.

All art is quite useless.

Oscar Wilde

Wednesday, 1 May 2019

Trainees on the front-line. Your news in their hands.

Grim fascination hung in the air. Nobody quite knew what was going on. October 9th 2018 was not a normal Tuesday in Lincoln.

I was only in town to buy a new phone case over my free hour. But there I was, taking money from a cash machine, when police officers start rolling out the cordon around Lincoln’s Cornhill. I’m ashamed to say that the journalist in me didn’t come out right away, I assumed it was nothing out of the ordinary and went about my day.

It was around five minutes later that I saw more police officers and a crowd around the St Mary Le Wigford Church. A cordon had been put up across the road, blocking anyone from reaching either the train station or the bus station.

That’s when I heard it. Hushed whispers in the crowd. A repeated word.

Bomb.

Now the journalist in me was fired up. I walked through the crowd, listening to everything I could. A suspicious package had been found on a bus.

The London Freelance branch of the National Union of Journalists states ‘one rule that comes out of everything below is: do not go into dangerous situations alone.’ That box was ticked. There were plenty of people around, but that isn’t much of a rule to go on.

It’s easy for a trainee journalist to sit back in these opportunities. It’s easy to just walk away. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought countless times before: “The real journalists will deal with this.” After all, I had no clue what I should really do in this situation. Surely the real ones would have been trained for exactly this?

But not this time. But what is the difference between a trainee journalist and a full-fledged one? Is it publication or broadcast? But in today’s world social media is often used as a news source too. This time I wasn’t backing down. I was going to get onto the front-line, because why shouldn’t I?

I took pictures with my phone, found the newest information from what was happening around me and got on Twitter. The great part about Twitter is if you can find the right hashtags your 280-character post can be picked up not just by individual twitter users, but by news sources and other journalists as well.  I kept going. With every development I sent out another tweet and the retweets and favourites trickled in. There weren’t many of them, my first post got 6 retweets. But 6 retweets go a long way, with that single tweet gaining 6,892 impressions across the site.

People were finding me, a trainee journalist, through my reporting. I was reaching an online audience by spreading breaking news from the scene. Not by posting a scandalous picture on Instagram like so many others my age.

This wasn’t a situation we had trained for. Reporting after an event would have been a breeze but live reporting was a whole new test. I thought to the IPSO Editors’ Code and everything else I had studied, I needed to keep the reporting by the book. I went back to basics, making sure my tweets were simple and to the point, nothing but the facts. Not posting any unverified information and making sure the phrasing would not cause undue panic.

‘It's a very difficult situation,’ said Katie Vickery, a trainee journalist and freelance NUJ member. ‘All of my journalistic training teaches me that the best place to be is in the middle of the action, but when it comes to an emergency, that goes against everything else you should be doing as a person caught up in that.’ These were the same thoughts that were going through my head, should I throw caution to the wind or follow my instincts and get away from the danger. After all, I was also missing a lecture to be there.

As time went by, other journalists started appearing on the scene. People with BBC lanyards and TV cameras. That’s when it hit me. This is the world of a journalist. I was on the front-lines just the same as them. I was getting the same story from the same source at the same time. They were taking the same photos as I was, granted they all had far superior equipment, but I had been there from the start, phone in hand, reporting from the scene.

That’s when the first press briefing began. Chief Inspector Stewart Brinn, the Incident Commander on scene, stepped forward to take early questions.

I began to question myself again. This whole situation was new to me and of course I was on edge. We’d done exercises about this kind of thing, but I had never really imagined myself in the middle of it. In all honesty, I had begun to doubt how much of a journalist I really am, preferring to spend most of my time writing creatively rather than factually.

Should I have stepped forward to take part in this first meeting with C.I. Brinn? Maybe he only wanted to speak to the professionals, but he never asked to see press cards or any formal credentials. “What’s the worst that could happen?” I asked myself.

‘At the moment our priority is to make sure that we identify whether or not there is a viable device present,’ said C.I. Brinn ‘we are prepared to deal with these instances.’ He explained that the police were taking all necessary measures in the face of this threat. A statement that made me feel slightly more reassured.

This was my first interview at a breaking news event. The first time I had taken the initiative to be a real journalist and it had been amazing. I got my voice heard, taking part in posing questions at the end of the briefing. I had been taken just as seriously as everyone else there. Of course, this was partly down to the professionalism of the interviewee. C.I. Brinn had offered up enough information to the surrounding journalists to start feeding back to newsrooms and social media and had been nothing but pleasant when it came to questions.

For any trainee journalist on the front-line of breaking news, find the right people to talk to. A helpful interviewee can be a huge confidence boost, but the most relevant interview is still the most important part. C.I. Brinn had ticked both boxes and with this briefing under my belt my tweets had gained important validity.

The first briefing had been short, so soon I was back to taking photos and posting on twitter. This is when a new pressure came into play, I hadn’t charged my phone. Trainee journalists are always told that when you are using your phone for interviews to take a power-bank with you. But this wasn’t planned, and I had overlooked one of the most basic pieces of advice. It was time to be more economical, take only the pictures that would tell the story best and not keep twitter open just to see the retweets come in.

This was an invaluable tactic. Being forced to be economical meant I had to keep everything relevant and always look for the most important bit of information. I knew there would be another press briefing when everything was wrapped up and I would need some amount of battery left, even if I couldn’t record the whole thing.

Developments became fewer and fewer, and around an hour after the first press briefing the emergency vehicles began to clear and officials began to move back towards the train station. Ten minutes later the cordon had been lifted and once again I was stood in front of C.I. Brinn for the final press briefing.

The suspect package had turned out to be completely harmless. C.I. Brinn had called it ‘a genuine mistake.’ The news was a relief in a multitude of ways. First and foremost, it hadn’t been a threat or a hoax, simply the police reacting in a calm and coordinated way to keep the public safe. It was also a relief for me personally, I had followed my journalistic instinct, no matter how long it had taken for it to kick in. I had kept myself safe in a situation which could have been far from safe and had taken no undue risks.

Without any formal training my instincts had carried me through the entire event, but if the event had been real would it have been enough? Should I have been more on guard? Should I have asked more questions and made my voice even louder, or was I right to leave the officials to their jobs? I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll know unless I’m in that situation again. I hope I never know.

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