I have been working as a professional journalist for
more than fifty-one years, but I have not ever attended
a journalist class, nor ever enrolled in a journalism
school.
I did attend the Writers Workshop at the University of
Iowa, received a masters degree in creative writing,
but learned quickly that earning a living in writing,
especially writing poetry, was not a promising economic
prospect.
In fact, very few creative writers make their living with
their work. It’s true that a small number of successful
and best-selling authors make enormous sums from
their novels and subsequent movie rights, but most
serious writers become college professors, and others
don’t seek a day job.
Circumstances, more than planned intention, led me
to be a self-taught journalist in the early days of
neighborhood and community journalism.
After graduating from Iowa, and a short stint teaching in
public schools in my hometown of Erie, PA, I moved to
Minnesota with the intention of founding a literary
publishing house as well as writing poetry and fiction.
Economic reality quickly set in as I found myself with
an office, a new computerized typesetter, lots of debt,
and few resources. I lived at that time in the first Title IV
new town, one that was literally started from scratch
out of rural farm fields. It occurred to me that this new
town (named Jonathan) had no newspaper of its own,
and was growing in population rapidly. Its own newspaper
seemed like a good idea, and being young, I went ahead
and created one, oblivious to the obstacles that might
discourage a professionally-trained journalist.
That began, in 1971, a fifteen-year career as a community
journalist, a career that required me to be not only a writer
and reporter, but also an editor, publisher, lay-out designer,
ad salesman, bill collector, delivery boy and janitor. It also
gave me a much more practical and useful education than
i had received in my Ivy League undergraduate university
and later in graduate school.
I soon started a second newspaper in a neighborhood
called Cedar-Riverside near downtown Minneapolis, which
also had a Title IV new town, and which had a much larger
circulation.
The issues which faced the rural new town were far less
complicated than those in the new-town-in-town. The
Title IV program, begun in the late 1960s, eventually saw
the creation or planning of about 20 new communities, but
these federally-guaranteed developments did not survive
an economic downturn in the mid-1970s, environmental
lawsuits, and community activism. Jonathan still exists as
a subdivision of the city of Chaska; and Cedar-Riverside is
now primarily an ethnic neighborhood, but their original
corporate entities and urban innovations are no more.
My Cedar-Riverside newspaper lasted fifteen years. It was
not the first Twin Cities neighborhood newspaper, nor the
largest, but it was immediately different. The neighborhood
was a performing arts center in those days, so my paper
was filled with reviews and arts coverage. Local politics
then was burgeoning, and the city’s large daily newspaper
did little community coverage. I had a lifelong interest in
national politics, and again, the city’s large daily fell short,
so I wrote about state and national politics. Early on, I
predicted a surprising upset in city elections, and acquired
readers from outside the area. But a feature I had casually
added in each issue: reviews and recommendations of Twin
Cities restaurants, became one of the most popular features,
garnering me considerable local attention and advertising.
In the 1980’s my editorial forays into national politics even
got noticed outside Minnesota. I covered my first presidential
campaign in 1972, but took a more active role in 1976 with
early notice of Jimmy Carter. In 1982, I predicted the rise of
an obscure Colorado senator named Gary Hart — which,
after the New Hampshire primary in 1984, had national
columnists calling me. A year later, I wrote a front-page
article predicting the emergence in 1988 of another
obscure senator to become president. His name? Joe Biden.
I made only a very modest living from the newspaper, and
the work was exhausting, so by 1987 I had shut down the
publication, and was writing freelance articles about politics
and restaurants. I had continued doing my literary writing
all this time, and my poems and short stories were
widely published in magazines, anthologies and even
a few books. It was time to move on to new careers, but
my experience in community newspapers had been not only
an invaluable education, but a rich grass-roots experience
that I would call on again and again in later life.
Forty years ago, there were more than three dozen Twin
City print publications serving neighborhood, community,
cultural and other local interests. The internet, social
networks, inner city political correctness, the pandemic and
its aftermath, and print economics have now reduced their
number sharply.
But today, more than a dozen neighborhood and community
newspapers are still going strong in Minneapolis and St.
Paul.
These small local print news sources also flourish across
the nation. One notable example is The North Shore
Leader. a Long Island, NY community weekly that exposed
the misrepresentations of local congressional candidate
George Santos weeks BEFORE the 2022 election. Their
scoop was ignored by local Democrat and Republican
campaigns as well as the major nearby daily newspapers
and broadcast media until after the election when The
Leader’s community news story became front page
national news.
Community newspapers can give their readers news and
information the dailies and other media do not, and
contribute to the local identity and spirit in this difficult
urban time. They can enable their local businesses and
community organizations to thrive. Community print
media defy reports of their demise. I honor their service,
and salute their survival.
_________________________________________________
Copyright (c) 2023 by Barry Casselman. All rights reserved.
