I Hate Honorifics

I hate honorifics.

Not honorariums, like speaking before you today, but honorifics. Mister, missus, miss, and miz.

I had to deal with honorifics every day when I worked for a very conservative newspaper out in Manhattan. They had a rule: everyone got an honorific, unless either (A) they were dead, or (B) if they were convicted of a crime in an American court.

So Osama bin Laden… well, I used to joke he was still on the paper’sChristmas card list. Needless to say, Martha Stewart is still jealous.

Well, actually the real story behind this was I was once copy-editing an article about fascism in World War II. Now my editor comes up after I finished a draft, and she slams the paper on my desk and says: "It's MISTER Mussolini!"

So, I didn’t really know how to respond to this. I kind of looked at her, and all I could say was... Boss, Mussolini's dead. He's been dead since like, 1945. My boss, though, she didn't believe me. "I need to show me some proof.” Like a history book…? So anyway, I finally just sent her the New York Times obituary from 1945, saying that Benito Mussolini was shot to death by a firing squad.

A few minutes later, she comes back to me, dead serious look in her eye: "You know, we don't believe in the New York Times."

Now, the reason I tell you this story is that people get so obsessed with things like honorifics that they forget what journalism is really about. Journalism, despite what Columbia might tell you, is not the inverted pyramid. It's not AP style, or the rule of thirds. In a world where anybody with an Internet connection and an axe to grind can call themselves a "journalist," it can't be that easy.

Journalism, at its core, is a state of mind. It's about asking hard questions of your society and of yourself. It's about drawing the moral line in the sand, even when the tide is coming in. It's about never taking "no" for an answer. It's about when you can't find a door, you break in through the skylightinstead. It's about keeping your eyes and ears open for the perfect moment -- about seeing what no one else can see -- and breaking it wide open for everyone else.

In other words: journalism is liberal arts plus. Because there is no one way to hunt down clues or to write a feature –instead, the most important thing you could have picked up in these past four years is the difference between writing and reporting. Writing implies a set course and a closed mind, putting down words that you think sound good: reporting entails a whole other skill set. Reporting means you’ve learned how to listen. How to question. How to make connections. How to see the angles. And to have a life outside of journalism. Believe me, you can pick up craft on the fly – but in this supercharged, linked-in, tangled mess of an economy, any and every bit of life experience counts.

And in many ways, Brandeis is the perfect place to build this curiosity, this healthy skepticism combined with a finely tuned sense of outrage. Our namesake, Louis D. Brandeis, once said that sunlight was the greatest disinfectant. And I can safely say that your teachers challenge you to seek the truth, no matter how much it hurts. In many ways, the liberal arts education you have received here has given you a wide range of specialties that a one-track program just can’t. And that’s to your advantage: in the economy you will be entering, there is no room for one-track minds – you have to be as broad as you can, because you never know where you might end up. But the one thing quality that you have to have, no matter what the job you’re looking for, is persistence. Thankfully, that’s just another word for journalism.

So don’t take no for an answer. Ignore the job sites – they’re for people who aren’t hungry enough to make their own opportunities. Show these employers you’re made of sterner stuff – cold call everyone. Beat down their doors. Follow up with a vengeance. If you know anybody doing anything, give them a call. Heck, call me. And when life hands you failure, you lick your wounds and keep on going. The worst-case scenario is you’re no worse off than before – and the best case, you send the right e-mail at the right time, and you end up getting a great gig like mine. But just know – as someone who was in your shoes one year ago – if things get tough, don’t give up. I spent eight months looking for workbefore hitting the jackpot, and I can tell you: nothing good ever comes easy.

But if you work the angles right, journalism will take you places. I’ve covered stories in Israel, the White House, and the San Diego Comic-Con. I’ve crashed on the couch of a Washington Post copy editor, walked home through Times Square, and sat at the hallowed halls of DC Comics. I’ve met congressmen and covered presidents. I’ve even knocked back Gatorades with the local chapter of the Hell’s Angels – who, believe it or not, are trying to go sober. The big cities are radioactive to new graduateslike yourselves – but journalism in small towns, like my job in the Berkshires, is still thriving. Your exploits as a reporter are only limited by your imagination and your perseverance– if you have an open mind and play your cards right, every day in this career should be an adventure worth writing about.

Of course, there will always be naysayers. Somebody famous who once said, "dealing with the media is worse than bathing a leper."

...Yeah, that was Mother Teresa.

True, saints and sinners alike will misunderstand you. Many times you will be judged not on your own merits, but the merits of your colleagues, even those from the other side of the globe. All you have in this world is the name that you cultivate: I’ve always said that health insurance is nice, but the best job benefit you can get is having the ability to do what you think is right. The only furniture I own is an inflatable mattress, but because I’m true to my beliefs, I've never slept better in my life.

And certainly you'll hear the old clichés. You’ve probably been told again and again that "journalism is dead." Meanwhile, the older reporters will cover their ears and tell you, "no, journalism’s evolving!" But the truth of the matter is, while journalism may be evolving, the people who are saying that… aren't. Journalism, despite priding itself on forward-thinking and incisiveness, is still an industry that is starving for new ideas -- ideas that will only come from you.

You have had four years with some incredible resources. This is a school with the Hoot, the Justice, WBRS, BTV, and Innermost Parts. This is a school with professors from the Voice of America and the Boston Globe. In this room might be the next Bob Woodward, the next Arianna Huffington, the next John Stewart – while journalism has been floundering in this economy like everyone else, the need -- and desire – for news and commentary has never been more in demand. It will be the decisions you make that help shape the ethics and institutions of this brave new world.

And know that it is not just at Brandeis where injustice can be found: everyday is another Hindley. Another Rose Art. Another Voices of Palestine. I made a living from bringing these stories and ones just like them kicking and screaming into the public forum. And I challenge you to not do the same… but to do better.

When I was researching Stephen Colbert for my senior thesis, I came across a quote I think might be a good mission statement for your entry into journalism: "Disabuse me of my ignorance. Don’t let me get away with anything. Don’t try to play my game. Be real. Be passionate. Hold your ideas. Give me resistance. Give me traction I can work against. The friction between reality, or the truly held concerns of the person, and the farcical concerns that I have, or my need to seem important, as opposed to actually understanding what’s true... Be real. That's the best thing you can do. And call me on my bullshit."

In other words: be true, even unto its innermost parts. So congratulations, Class of 2009 -- may you have good luck and good fortune calling 'em like you see 'em. Thank you very much.