Column: Awesome responsibility, meaningful change

There is a saying in journalism that suggests reporters are charged "to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable." Often attributed to early 20th-century New Yorker writer A.J. Liebling, the adage originates from a time when political machines and large corporations concentrated power even more than they do now. It also reflects, whether Liebling intended it or not, a school of thought that asks journalists to do more than just report the news - to lead a moral crusade on behalf of the public's best interest, whatever a particular editor decides that may be.

The Chronicle has always shied away from such a calling, in part because few people are interested in the moral crusading of a group led by 21-year-olds. But to me, the more compelling reason not to do this has always been that a more traditional journalism, one that sincerely seeks to report the whole truth, allows an organization like The Chronicle to maintain its credibility and promote open, informed dialogue - the result of which, I believe, is a more moral society.

It is difficult for me to imagine Duke University without The Chronicle, and not just because I have spent so much time talking with its staff members, writing at its computers and sleeping on its couches. Over the past four years, I have had the privilege of witnessing great reporters accomplish great reporting and, by sometimes-painful extension, making this community that much more rewarding for those who participate in it. We have covered the day-to-day events that define a major research university and a vibrant undergraduate life, but we have also exposed the more sensitive dynamics of this disjointed campus: the backstabbing politics of various academic departments; the large percentage of students admitted after direct influence from University fundraisers and athletics officials; the departure of black faculty members who felt alienated from Duke because of their race; the harassment of women in the physics department; and plans to downsize the biological anthropology and anatomy department, as well as many other stories that have a deep impact on people's lives.

Then there are the campus stories that we missed or, sometimes worse, were off the mark on. There's another saying in journalism that for every story you tell, there are 10 more out there that you missed. We could not have reported them all, of course, but there have been times when we dropped the ball and stories of true moral importance went untold. Campus alcohol abuse and sexual assault come to mind. But more often than not, such examples speak to the inexperience or limited resources of a student-run newspaper, not to a lack of passion to seek the truth.

I haven't always found it easy to assume the role of a reporter. Politics has been my passion since I was in middle school, but as a journalist I have had to hold back my political views in public, in class, and even - with perhaps a touch of paranoia - on instant messenger away messages. This internal conflict really hit home during a pre-class discussion one day junior year, when a fellow student, noticing my hesitation to talk politics, asked whether a journalist could be considered a real person. Ouch.

Nor does it help a young journalist's devoted quest for truth when some of his sources live down the hall or sit near him in class. Duke has a small, tight-knit campus, and the walls creep in even more when you bump into the person who, the night before, begged you not to run his name in the crime briefs. I wish I could say our reporting hasn't wounded friendships, but I can't.

Still, a few exceptions aside, the people with whom I have reported, edited and talked into the early hours of the morning have managed to remain sane, real people, and wounds tend to heal over time. We have, for the most part, still asked the tough questions and challenged campus figures to keep to their words.

What's left over in the end is the media's capacity and awesome responsibility to bring about meaningful change in what we call our community - probably the hottest buzzword on Duke's campus over the last year. I ran for editor with a vision of strengthening The Chronicle's connections with its community, manifested in reporters getting a better sense of their readers' lives and in readers feeling more invested in our daily coverage. To me, then, community has meant intense and challenging interaction, just the opposite of the stale consensus sought by some of the campus' fiercest proponents of a greater sense of community.