Re-learning the Interview

I first learned how to conduct an interview in JOUR 320, an intense reporting and writing course that had me popping out weekly news stories and 10 published clips. I got used to cold-calling sources and asking lots of questions-- some more provocative, some less so. I learned to type people's comments while simultaneously listening, responding, and thinking of follow-up questions.

I spent hours speaking with a Brooklyn sculptor about her life's work. I interviewed the mayor and all four members of the Rockville City Council about proposed changes to the city's trash pick-up. I talked to senior advocates about pending legislation in Maryland and Virginia.

I did about 75 interviews that semester, and by the time finals rolled around, I felt pretty comfortable talking to people I didn't know about subjects I wasn't familiar with.

But I wasn't thinking visually.

Now, a few weeks into the college's Non-Print Media course, I'm re-learning what I thought I already knew about journalism: how to do an interview.

Capturing an interview for a video means that I have to film the subject in the correct place on the camera screen. Instead of paying attention to how I respond to someone's comments, I now remind myself to keep quiet-- I don't want my "mmm-hmm"s and "really?"s to clutter the footage. I also have to concentrate on keeping a steady hand on the camera so viewers don't get motion sickness from a shaky video.

There's more pressure doing on-camera interviews. As a strictly print reporter, I always knew I could call a source back if I had additional questions. But if I'm covering a live event via video, what I get is what I get. Missed a shot? Too bad-- it's gone.

After producing another 70 stories on video, I hope I'll reach the same level of comfort I have in the print medium.

At that point, it'll probably be time to try my hand at photojournalism.

In Pursuit of an Interview

I love going to Dunkin' Donuts. There's something about opening that door and walking into a place full of fresh donut-y smells that never ceases to excite me. So when it came time for the man-on-the-street interview assignment, I knew where I wanted to go for my interview.

I planned to talk to one of the employees at an area Dunkin' Donuts about what it's like to work there. Have they been serving the same guy the same type of donut and coffee every day for a decade? Do the employees eat bagels for lunch every day? And do they really throw out all those donuts just before closing time?

I thought I'd have a better chance of getting the interview if I went when the store wasn’t busy. But there's "not busy," and there's "really, really not busy." When I showed up shortly before 10 p.m. on Saturday night, there was only one woman behind the counter.

She was camera-shy.

And she didn’t speak much English.

I was faced with the same problem Sunday afternoon when I took my Flip camera to a Baskin-Robbins: One woman behind the counter, and not much English.

I had even less luck at the grocery next door. No language barrier, but the man I interviewed answered most of my questions in about three words.

I finally got my interview just two minutes from my house, standing outside a pizza restaurant in the shopping center I've visited five times this week alone.

I'm convinced that when it comes to catching an interview, close to home is best.

Learning from the Pros

I attended the judging for the White House News Photographers Association Eyes of History contest on Sunday. I was surprised by a lot of what I saw there, not by the video entries as much as by the judges' reactions to the entries.

One criterion the judges mentioned in their final selection of contest winners was whether particular entries could be considered "enough of a challenge".

This seemed to be the reason the "Sputnik" entry did not place at all in the short-form category; the judges liked it but decided that its use of historical video footage made it "less challenging." They said the same of "A Wave of Uncertainty," a long-form entry about Cuban immigration. The issue came up a third time with regard to "The Joberts," a long-form entry the judges called "seamless" and praised for its wildlife footage, but ultimately said was "not challenging". "Brazil Ethanol," on the other hand, was called "way more challenging" than "Sputnik," and it placed third in the short-form category.

Another issue the judges dealt with was just how gruesome video footage could be before it crossed the line.

The long-form entry "Surgical Fires," for example, showed three women whose faces had been burned during surgery. The gruesome nature of the footage seemed to be part of the reason that video did not place in the contest.

Another long-form entry, "Evidence of My Existence," also contained upsetting footage. The video is a photojournalist’s story of his experiences working in various dangerous situations, and the footage was at some points so disturbing that I no longer wanted to watch.

The judges, though, decided it reflected the reality of the harsh conditions without "overdoing it". The judges also mentioned that the video had good pacing; one commented that the story "drew me in."

"Evidence of My Existence" was given an Award of Excellence.

I guess showing gross footage isn't always a bad thing.

Veggie Burgers Suit Me Just Fine

I grew up in a household where eating healthy food was a priority. No candy. No gum. No chips. We don't keep sugar in the house because we don't bake. If you want bread, it's going to have to be whole wheat. Rice? You bet it'll be brown. And we’re vegetarians, too.

I have probably been asked more often about my vegetarian diet than about anything else. Many people seem to have a hard time envisioning their meals without meat. At some point I started noticing a pattern in the reactions of people who had just discovered I am a vegetarian. It goes something like this:

"You're a vegetarian? What do you eat?"
"Oh, you know. Pasta…vegetables…soups. Everything you eat, just no meat."

(Dumbfounded silence follows.)

But when a child becomes an adult, he dictates his own diet. One of my brothers took advantage of this by throwing a “meat party” on his eighteenth birthday. He and a group of friends went to a local restaurant for dinner, and one of them used his digital camera to take a video of him eating shawarma and chicken-matzo ball soup for the first time.

I chose not to follow him on The Meat Path.

I found myself on the brink of adulthood while on a study abroad program in Jerusalem, 5,901 miles from my parents. Even with the freedom that came from being so far away, I stuck with my veggie burgers. I just didn't feel a need for anything else. I guess an authentic Israeli shawarma just isn't my cup of herbal tea.