Tom Avila is a contributing writer to Metro Weekly news magazine and a staffer for the National Lesbian & Gay Journalists Association (NLGJA) .
The Internet is a dangerous place. But you know that.
Viruses, predators, bullies … the list goes on and on. The virtual world that once stood like some cyber city on a hill where information would be free and available has begun to resemble the real world we all occupy. If we, of course, ignore the overwhelming number of Nigerian princes and folks whose happiness depends on access to our bank accounts. Speaking for myself, in the real world my bank account isn’t going to get you very far, so best of luck to you, my sweet prince.
For many in journalism, the Internet (and I’ll say from the beginning to all tech terminologists out there that I’m one of those borderline luddites who freely uses Internet when I should be referring to the Web and vice versa) posed a different kind of danger. Or, more accurately, fear. A fear that one day, we will forget the tactile joy of hefting the Sunday morning newspaper up on the couch and instead curl up with our laptops and a cup of coffee.
I’ve gotten into any number of sometimes heated discussions with people about the idea of a world without paper. Of course, I still listen to the radio and only just learned how to use iTunes, so Wired magazine isn’t going to be calling me to do a story for them any time soon. Amish Monthly, maybe.
Some of this is because I’m an admittedly stubborn and change-phobic New Englander. And some of this is because I like the solitary aspect of reading the newspaper and listening to the radio. When you head to the Internet for your news, you’re elbowing your way into a mob. You’re taking a seat in a crowded movie theater. Worse, you’re taking a seat in a crowded theater where people are not only allowed to talk back at the screen, it’s encouraged.
Lately, I’ve found myself drawn to those sections online that often run below news stories. The section that I sometimes think is only euphemistically referred to as being reader responses. It’s not that I discount the value of people being able to offer their thoughts and opinions on the issues going on in their communities. I mean, I stream Talk of the Nation. My favorite day of the week is Friday because the Diane Rehm Show is two hours of political talk that includes listener call-in.
But, to be very frank, the reader comment section of most online news stories depresses me because they usually aren’t individuals responding to what’s been presented. They’re stating the opinion and beliefs they had when they sat down at their computer.
This is something that comes into sharp relief for me on days like this when I’m hopping from news site to news site reading up on a particular issue. For those of you who somehow missed it, yesterday (Thursday, May 15, 2008) the California State Supreme Court found in favor of the plaintiffs in a case that contested the constitutionality of the state recognizing only marriage between one man and one woman as being valid and legal.
The decision makes California the second state in the United States to recognize same-sex marriages. Four more states formally recognize civil unions: Vermont, Connecticut, New Jersey and New Hampshire. And everywhere, it seems, people are debating the issue.
Organizations like my employers at the National Lesbian & Gay Journalists Association have long put out advisories to members of the media recommending terminology and resources on covering same-sex marriage legislation. Advice like using phrases such as “same-sex marriage” or “marriage rights for same-sex couples.” “Gay marriage” implies the creation of a new set of legal guidelines outlining the rights and responsibilities of a married couple. What most in the marriage equality movement are seeking is the extension of existing rights, not the invention of new ones.
And you’ll note – at least I hope you will – that I refer specifically to the legal aspects of marriage. Even with the decision by the California State Supreme Court and that made in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts and the four civil union states, no religious community or community of faith is required to offer wedding rites for same-sex couples should they elect not to.
There’s also a bit of legislation that doesn’t get the attention it once did called the Defense of Marriage Act or DOMA . Basically, DOMA means that no matter what individual states decide, the federal government will not recognize same-sex marriages. That covers everything from Social Security benefits to the ability to file a joint tax return.
If you take a stroll online, you’ll see a lot of folks doing some really good reporting on these aspects of the decision. But many of the reader comments seem stuck in an endless loop, and it always makes me wonder what happens between the really good reporting up top and the sometimes distressing comments down below.
Make no mistake: I hardly expect a single news story to change someone’s entire belief system. The ability to civilly disagree with another individual or group of individuals or speak eloquently about your own well-informed opinion on a given issue is to be applauded. But to do that, it means being ready to listen as well as speak. To respond to someone, you have to hear what it was they said.
I realize that this column is talking a bit more to the audience than the journalists. I also realize that this is one of those columns where the writer is asking a question that seems destined to simply hang in the air.
Maybe I’m just another person out there talking to myself.
Tom Avila is a staffer for the National Lesbian & Gay Journalists Association, which recently released a media advisory on covering same-sex marriage legislation. However, in this essay he is not only speaking to himself, he is speaking for himself and not NLGJA.