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Since we& #39;re taking about privilege. Many moons ago at job interview, a legendary editor with a worthy journalist daughter who everyone celebrates, I was asked, "what do your parents do?" He was unimpressed with my answer. I was 23, I wanted to change the world. "Anyone in media?"
I said no. I was from a lower middle class family. First generation journalist. I got the job. But I learnt to notice who the imp people around my age or slightly older were. I was learning the ropes of midnight SI Press while ppl close to my age were on plum reporting beat
They spoke of midnight visitors - famous poets, theatre artists. We were learning to unwrite middle school English & unlearn "ki" as punctuation. They were "sharing a drink with dad." Homes with teak bookshelves. Reading was curated by intellectual upper class working parents.
I realised that intellectual, social and class capital of second and third generations of journalists is something we& #39;ll never compete with. It refinement the rest of us will acquire over years of hard work and still many doors will be closed to us. Do something -
Google the names of all truly well known journalists today. Those you hear as household names. They are brilliant, I& #39;m not denying it. But brilliance is also a combination of right opportunity + practice + privilege + experience capital of parents and their intimate social circle
Many of these journalists are doing phenomenal things bec they& #39;re actually good. But almost all of them are product of stunning privilege. The doors that opened for them as young reporters. When you can call a newspaper& #39;s managing editor "uncle" at work, where is the struggle?
May I end this by saying that if as middle-aged editors (personally witnessed twice, man + woman, many others did too) you have to scream at trembling interns over the phone, "how dare you not recognise my voice," & "do you know who you& #39;re speaking to?" your career is a waste.
