Luckily, I count many of these colleagues among my friends, and we continually learn from each other.  But for a good roundup of what’s happening, Poynter’s Steve Myers wrote a fantastic roundup of the state of news apps.  I was eager to contribute to Myers’ survey of the field.

Yet in addition, in my push for openness and transparency, I wanted to share my responses with the community as well.

As you read, consider that just today someone reached this blog searching for “how to build journalism news apps”. Surprise, surprise, the answer’s not here — yet.

After you take a quick tour through my day-to-day experience at work, please reach out to me through the comments, email, Twitter, whatever and share what you would consider in this environment if you were starting from scratch to combine data, journalism and programming in 2011.  That could be topics, approaches, hints of what to avoid, ways to maintain a good tech-and-data-friendly culture. I’m hoping we’ve moved forward enough that there are different answers to these questions in 2011 than there were in 2008 or 2010.

We’ll be working to figure out what the future of data, journalism and technology might look like, adjusting our philosophy as we go, and taking feedback from the public both inside and outside of the journalistic community.  I’d love to hear your recommendations, thoughts or cautionary tales!

How is development structured at PBS?

We have more than 30 developers in house at PBS, working on education, general audience, and kids applications.  Django is our core development techology that serves as the backbone for the entire PBS.org website.  But that’s distinct from the group that works to power our upcoming PBSNews.org website.  I run my work off of a separate server, that’s specifically for data applications, and the main developers spun up a development environment for me.  That’s common practice for various PBS projects. But it’s my responsibility to not break it, and fix it if it does break.  So, I try to keep my database queries low – that’s on me.  But creating a program to back up the database, that’s on another team.

How does a data producer spend her time?

I spend 100 percent of my time on news-oriented Web projects. The development is literally a means to practice journalism.  Separating data project development from overall site development is something we’re still addressing.  So, for instance, embedding a document on a template — that’s on me.  Creating an index of all our documents that fits in our overall system is the responsibility of a supporting developer.

Because of how we’ve emerged from the tradition of computer-assisted reporting, posting data online is often a side project to an investigation, or some sort of online directory that doesn’t necessarily tell a newsy story.  That is, they often don’t stand on their own as editorial pieces beyond what I call a “pretty data ghetto,” extending a phrase coined by journalist Matt Waite. They lack substance unto themselves.

How are we approaching the idea of data pieces?

We’re pioneering the concept of DataStories, which combine the visual power of data visualizations with the structured organization traditionally associated with data applications, and add a layer of editorial contextualization to enable Web users to learn something new about their world that is most relevant to them.

I’m also thinking about how to make data projects easier and templated for PBS member stations and show producers, as well as other public media entities.

How does our team work together?

The PBS setup we’re creating is ideal. While I could do server administration from scratch, it would probably have more issues than the setup of someone who deals with dozens and dozens of servers. And developers working on content management system infrastructure will take care of the organization so I can focus on using my editorial and technical skills to find, collect, analyze and present data for news.

Our staff consists of producers with intense journalism experience who’ll be curating content from a variety of public media sources, but there’s strong daily collaboration between me and those producers, as well as our team leaders. I’m considered a member of the team with a specialty in data visualizations and data-driven applications. Those apps are considered as much a journalistic product as an article or a video, so I’m fully integrated into this team.

How do non data geeks react to working with a hacker journo?

There’s definitely a bit of mystique to what I’m doing, but that mystery is met with strong interest and enthusiasm, not trepidation or intimidation.  It’s a very new media savvy newsroom. HTML isn’t intimidating to my new media friendly colleagues, and if people haven’t worked much with data viz/apps before, they’ve certainly heard of them.

My newsroom colleagues know what interactives are capable of, but they rely on me to know the data journalism world inside and out, and to provide my thoughts. There is a solid understanding of the time data pieces take to build — we’re not going to do ten a day.  My opinions are taken very seriously, never dismissed. I’m given a wonderful amount of freedom to “do what it is I do best”, and am encouraged to innovate.

It’s unusual in my experience to see journalists who use programming to tell stories being so thoroughly integrated into a team. All of my colleagues bring immense experience, an educated perspective and creativity to the team, and that helps us all produce the best work possible.

Explore other posts:

• January 20, 2010 -- How to “Group By” in Excel
• September 21, 2010 -- The power of linkable data apps (my second LAT app)
• January 31, 2010 -- Data Delver: Matt Waite, St. Petersburg Times
• January 4, 2010 -- My new perspective on math – it’s a journalistic tool!
• September 3, 2011 -- This work I do, it’s difficult, and that’s okay
• February 28, 2010 -- Django app #2: Conquering forms and Google Maps API

My “summer” internship at the LA Times is almost over. It’s lasted from April until now, and I could stay longer. I swore you’d have to drag me out of “dream internship” kicking and screaming, as I clung to the massive walls of the still-impressive building. I will never forget the chance I was given at the LAT, and the boost it gave my career. But it’s time to move on.

I’m delighted to report that I’m joining PBS as a Data Producer for the organization’s website. Specifically, this will be a new news and public affairs component of the site. Yes, I’ll work for the national headquarters. Yes, that’s in Washington. We’re going to start something brand spanking new, capitalizing on the engaging, riveting, in-depth style PBS is known for, and translating that to the Web. I’ll get to serve as a generalist, with a specialty. Exercise my entrepreneurial spirit, but within the structure of a strong organization.

We’ll push the data visualization and application side of things, but I’ll also get to use the plethora of skills I’ve picked up along the way outside of data journalism. We’ll go on an adventure together. There’s so much I can’t be specific about, because it’s all new. But I do promise to not only keep you updated, but pick your brains for advice on what you want to see from the digital side of public television.

That being said, my hope is that we can say a few things for certain: We’re not going to be doing the same old journalism the same old way. We WILL push the boundaries of storytelling. We WILL help people stay informed and engaged with the news. We WILL help people make sense of the world, and we will do it with concrete facts. We WILL remember we do this for the users, the public. We WILL combine the best qualities of data journalism, online journalism and public television.

This transition is made easier by the fact that I have high hopes for bosses who “get” the mission I’ve been yammering about for a year. It’s not just about data, but about integration. We’ll be a nimble enough team that we can learn from each other, and not be segmented. The folks already on board have significant experience in this world, whether it’s fellow TribCo alum Tom Davidson or St. Pete Times alum Christine Montgomery — Matt Waite’s boss during the launch of Politifact. They know what data apps are. That means we push harder. Not good enough for me to say, “Hey, you ever heard of data journalism?” Got to come up with something better, something fresh and new. We’ll push each other to create the best product we can. We only fail if we fail to try.

I’ll be moving to Washington DC, in a very few short weeks — planning to land there by the end of October. So excited! After all, about a year ago, I had the pleasure of being introduced to this sort of work. It all started with one class. I discovered more and more people like me, and the community made me better. You can learn a lot from engaging online, but I miss the real-world conversations we had a year ago. I love the people I’ve met in LA with all my heart, but I still can’t help but feel that Washington is my intellectual home.

I’m excited to return to PBS. Last summer, I served as a Web intern for Chicago Tonight at WTTW, Chicago’s PBS affiliate. It was one of the best summers of my life, and I learned so much about broadcast and the Web, and the relationship/integration between the two. But that’s also when the wheels started turning. I wished I knew more about how to get data on a map. I wished we could go more in-depth with Web packages. I wished we could use pure facts, data, not just for investigative pieces, but to enhance people’s knowledge on topics across beats. Now, I have enough knowledge to push further, and to accomplish so many things I just couldn’t a year ago. And I’ve long thought public television sites were a niche ripe for the picking.

And now’s as good a time as any to acknowledge that I wouldn’t be in this position without the mentorship of NICAR folks. You know who you are. And the greatest class I ever took after Medill is the classroom I’m in every day, the LA Times Data Desk. The data analysts show me the thought process, and intense checking, that goes into every data project. My boss, Dan Gaines, listens to new ideas and floats his own, always looking at you with an intensity that shows just how much he cares about journalism, and you as a person. But my greatest teachers have been Ben Welsh and Ken Schwencke. Fellow journalist-programmers, we geek out together and support each other. And no matter how messy my code, how many mistakes I made, how much I’m still in the rough, they make me better, and never with a harsh word. If I get stressed, I only need to look over at them to see it will all be okay. Leaving them will be the hardest part of all. But they’ve prepared me to get to this point, and I’ll find even more mentors and supporters. And guys, you know you’re just a GChat or a tweet away, even if a continent separates us.

On an even more personal note, this next step represents some sort of victory. Yes, I know it’s only the beginning. But at the same time, it was this sort of position that I’ve been working for all along. I didn’t learn programming so I could write some awesome loader, geek out about server loads, etc. It’s all fascinating, sure! But I did it, I do it every day, and I will always do it — for the journalism. It’s a tool, just like a photo journalist using a camera. That doesn’t make him or her a wedding photographer. They practice journalism through photographs.

We see so many posts in the journo-community, asking if journalists should learn programming, if programmers should learn journalism, what do we name people with this hybrid?

But, here’s the question I forgot to ask. Once you start getting all these skills, where can you go to use them? Some of my mentors received quite a few late-night emails, listened to quite a few rambles. Where is the place that understands my tech skills are deeper than uploading my story to a content management system? Where is the place that understands I could add features to your site, and do general tech/IT maintenance all day long, but I have these journalism skills. The tech skills help to tell the story. It’s not one or the other. I consider myself equal parts programmer and journalist, journalist and programmer.

I had a fascinating job search, and managed to never file a single application, without someone from an organization reaching out to me first. That’s not what they tell us will happen at Career Services! If you want to pursue this career change, there isn’t a better time. Still, finding the right organizational match is no easy task. And I can’t tell you how ecstatic I am to have found that match.

In a world where we decry the death of journalism on a daily basis, where we’re afraid we won’t get jobs, I say there IS hope if we hold out. If you believe in what we do, follow your interests and skills, you’ve got a better shot. We must always push onward. And I, well, I never believed that less than a year after graduating Medill, not only would someone pay me to do what I love, but I would get to do it at an organization that instilled my own love for education. It still seems like a dream that’s coming true. I never believed I’d get to a national organization this fast. I never believed I’d get to take my ideas outside of a blog, outside of an academic paper, outside of internship after internship. Doesn’t mean I’m right, I’m probably not. But if the ideas just stay incubated, and are never considered professionally, what good is that?

We don’t have time to waste. The moment is now. We can’t afford to wait, the industry’s already behind where it should be in 2010.

So, I promise anyone reading this, friends I’ve known since elementary school, my dear supportive parents, teachers from all levels of schooling, fellow journalists fighting the fight for truth and knowledge every day, I promise that I will give this everything I’ve got. I recognize the preciousness of this gift. And on behalf of young journos everywhere, PBS, thank you for believing in us, in our potential. Thank you for the opportunity to experiment on a national playground. We only move forward by trying something new.

There will be no resting on laurels, there will be no complacency. Thank you all for your help so far, and I know we’ll be calling on each other in the days, weeks and years to come.

But for now, journalism must push forward. Let’s get started.

Explore other posts:

• January 12, 2010 -- Data Delver: Ted Mellnik, Charlotte Observer database editor
• March 8, 2010 -- Data Delver: Anthony DeBarros, USA Today
• March 5, 2010 -- Why we do what we do: Pursuing the sparkle
• January 25, 2010 -- Keep it subtle, stupid: Differentiating data values in visualizations
• February 28, 2010 -- Django app #2: Conquering forms and Google Maps API
• April 7, 2010 -- Columbia’s new joint MS: Good start, but no panacea

That’s why I absolutely loved last week’s post by TBD’s Steve Buttry on this isssue. Read it, seriously. I was going to write up my comments, but I’ve got something better.

I started discussing this issue with my father Mike Minkoff, who happened to be in town last week. And he helped me realize the struggle our education finds itself in, well, it’s nothing new.

Mike is a computational scientist at Illinois’ Argonne National Laboratory, using his cs skills to enhance the work of his fellow scientists, and enables them to explore problems whose complexity or sheer magnitude is beyond the reach of mere humans. It’s applying tech skills to another field. And that’s a little bit like what we do as journo-programmers, bring the cs to the journalism.

But when he was going to school, computer science curricula weren’t all that certain. And we can learn from that transition. I’ll let him take it away.

I am a computational scientist with an interest in data in journalism. I find a number of exciting and interesting parallels between the current evolution of journalism as discussed in this post and the early history of the field of computer science when I went to grad school in the 1960s.

I studied computer science at the undergraduate level through Ph.D. between 1963 and 1973 at the University of Wisconsin and Princeton University. During that time, there were relatively few schools that had curricula in computer science (Cal Tech, MIT, the University of Wisconsin and a few others) and the programs were principally at the graduate level. In fact, schools didn’t always call it “Computer Science” — some of the courses were listed as “Programs in Numerical Analysis,” as at Wisconsin.

There are two points I’d like to comment on:

1. In the 1960s, as computer science programs developed there was a fundamental debate regarding what should be taught and where. On the one hand, grad students and faculty felt that learning a programming language was of utmost importance in order to get a job after graduation. On the other hand, others felt that theory is more important so the student can develop and move with the technology rather than become stagnant as technology advanced. Later on, the theory approach justified the placement of computer science in major universities rather than trade schools. There is a parallel here to the “basics” vs. “technology” issue in journalism.

   As this debate developed, the professional societies (notably the Association for Computing Machinery) established a committee to define a core curriculum of an B.S., M.S., or Ph.D. and allow for electives that could be locally defined by the institution. The courses in the core represented the key areas of computer science and are reflected in their decendents today in simulation and modeling, data analysis and operating systems theory:

   • numerical analysis and mathematical optimization
   • systems programming
   • artificial intelligence and automated reasoning

   Of course these are historical topics and just as the technology used in journalism will develop in new ways, so did these areas.

   As to the theory vs. language issue the obvious answer is both. In all fields, as the subject advances there are always new topics to integrate into a curriculum. I would expect that a journalist be as good a writer as in the past, but also he or she must know how to utilize the technology of today (and tomorrow). I would hope that in the rush to move with technology the programs and faculty of traditional journalism is not neglected. There is the danger of being so committed to technology that the core of basic journalism is lost.

2. One of the most exciting parallels to me has lasted my career. The pioneers of computer science were my teachers, mentors and lifelong friends and advisors just as the present digital journalism teachers and mentors are for their students. Graduate school is not just a spoon-fed set of courses, but a place where inquiry and learning can be nurtured. One of the commonalities of computer science of the 1960s and the technology journalism of today is that once in a generation a field provides the opportunity to meet and learn from the people who created the field. This gives the mentor and student to opportunity to rise to the challenge of working in a new and growing field. While students in both areas need to decide for themselves what they want to get out of a career, for me it is exciting to meet and learn from the people who created the field. As a student, I felt that the difference between studying math and computer science was that you could meet and talk with the developers and authors of the textbooks. Of course today it is the blog rather than the textbook, I guess!

I thought this was definitely something to ponder, and I hope that in a generation, I’ll be the one telling my children about the parallels between what we consider modern journalis, and some new transition their field is going through.

Has this gotten you thinking, too? That’s what the comments section is for!

Related posts you might enjoy:

• April 7, 2010 -- Columbia’s new joint MS: Good start, but no panacea
• January 31, 2010 -- Data Delver: Matt Waite, St. Petersburg Times
• November 24, 2009 -- A letter to journo-programmers: Teach me, inspire me

I’ve been paying rapt attention to the journey of designer/journalist Chris Courtney.  He’s fighting a battle bigger than the ones we fight against agencies refusing to hand over document, journalists stuck in an old mindset, people too bored by media to become informed.  He’s fighting cancer.

We don’t know each other, Chris, but I’ve followed your work, and I’ve been meaning to introduce myself.  I can’t help but feel connected to you, though.  Reading your thoughts reminds me of my own similar journey. And having spent the day arguing with Javascript functions, and wanting to punch them in their metaphorical faces, it’s easy to forget there was a time when I had much bigger issues.  Life-threatening illnesses have a way of clarifying things.

Reading Chris’ thoughts reminds me of a time in my own life I don’t talk much about, but I don’t avoid it either.  Back in 2002, I was diagnosed with IgA Nephropathy, an illness that caused my immune system to attack my kidneys as if they were foreign, resulting in kidney failure, and ultimately a transplant in 2006, which I received from my dear aunt Karen Kwan.  More background on this in a Medill article I wrote when I returned to UIC as a journalist: This time, it’s not my kidney

For too many days to count, it was the focus of my life.  Tends to happen when you don’t have the energy to move, or even write.  And you wouldn’t know it now, other than the fact that the experience forces me to examine each day and ask myself what I did with the gift of life.

I suppose this is a letter to Chris more than anything. I’m heartened to see your positive attitude.  I believe that’s what enables people to get through situations like this.  Also key — a great network of support from friends and family.  Don’t be afraid to come to them for anything you might need, help making a meal, advice, or what I found most helpful — a friendly ear ready to listen.

I applauded out loud when I read your dismissal of flowery get-well cards that could just as easily be expressing thoughts of sympathy.  I mean, come on, I tell my editor when I don’t agree with him, I argue with sources all the time.  And the stories my parents can tell you about when I was a teenager, okay, yesterday.  So, kidney failure, cancer, whatever you are.  You think you can scare me?  Hit me with your best shot.

These sorts of illnesses have a way of giving you life clarity.  Chris explains that the only thing > than cancer is death.  But “My team losing < Cancer.”  Absolutely true. I find this to be a double-edged sword.  I value everything in life a lot more.  I care a little bit, no, a lot, less that your boyfriend broke up with you.  Because, you see, I could respond to it all saying “Try living with kidney failure.  Do you like how you have the strength to stand? That’s not a guarantee.”  Looking at life that way gets quite tiring, though.  But ultimately it’s another feather, and a big one, in your cap of life experience.

And Chris, I couldn’t agree with you more about being too young for all this. Take it from the girl who went to a session on post-kidney-failure options at Northwestern Memorial and passed out after looking at all the “old people.”  Only time I passed out in my life, by the way.  Oh, except for when I was five, and that tall guy kicked the soccer ball into my head.  </michellesathleticcareer>  Point is, you look around.  And you’re not supposed to be in that hospital, you’re not supposed to be bailing on your friends cause you’re tired.  But that’s what life’s thrown at you.  You discover your true friends, discover what’s important.  And by the way, when are you old enough to get sick?  I have some relatives in their 80s who would tell you they’re too young to get sick.  And that attitude, I argue, is part of what keeps them out of the hospital.

Yeah, hospitals suck.  What do you mean I can’t take my phone into the operating room?  What’s your wireless access code?  My story: the nurses eventually told me I could use the Internet on the nurses’ station computer if I did a lap around the floor.  The 180 seconds they alloted me was less than I use in a 10-minute window on a routine basis.  When I was well enough that the tech situation really bugged me, it was time to go home.  And in the meantime, I grew to appreciate my friends and family more than ever.  And did a lot of thinking and contemplating. We don’t make time for that in our workaday lives.  When you’re forced to slow down, things seem a bit different.

As a journalist, the process is fascinating.  You have your own window onto the beat of your medical condition.  I can tell you all about kidneys now.  And I follow future developments in the field like it’s my job.  Because someday my transplanted kidney will fail.  The medication we take to protect a transplant also contains ingredients that destroy kidneys over time.  And this time, I probably won’t get a donation without going on dialysis.  But that’s no reason to give up.  Only a reason to press on in the present!

Don’t get me wrong, dealing with this sort of thing is all horribly unpleasant, unbearable at times.  But your support system and your optimism will aid you in giving your nemesis your best shot.  And that’s all you can ask of yourself.

I would never say everything’s going to be okay, to anyone going through this sort of thing.  I hated when people told me that.  Show me the data on that one, how can you tell the future?  But I do believe you’ve got a better shot if you kick, scream and fight against it with all your might.  That’s why journalists are so well prepared to fight these sort of battles.  It’s what we do every day.

And as for my life now? Well, I’m behind you 1000 percent.  And I’ll be watching, Chris.  And thinking of you.  Take cancer down.  If you happen to see the UIC chief of surgery, Enrico Benedetti, say hello to my dear friend, who was head of the transplant team when I was there in 2006.  And if you need anything at all, you know where to find me.  But I won’t be sending any flowery cards, electronic, handwritten or otherwise.

And when you’re not too busy fighting the fight, and relishing the extra time with your family and friends, we need you here in the journo world.  After all, cancer or no cancer, kidney failure or no kidney failure, there’s work to be done.

Explore other posts:

• January 2, 2012 -- The word of 2012 — Moderation
• September 28, 2011 -- Journonerd Crisis: Where am I, and where am I going? (ONA Wrapup)
• June 13, 2010 -- Post IRE wrap-up + shameless self-promotion
• February 18, 2010 -- Many Eyes: “Catalyzing the community around data”
• April 5, 2010 -- Women with coding skills are no Passover miracle
• April 5, 2009 -- NYTimes Global Edition — do people care? Should they?

So, there’s that. First launch!

My checklist:

• Figure out what part of journalism inspires me. CHECK (Data, programming)
• Find place where I can learn about it from others, but have freedom to try out my ideas and learn from knowledgeable and patient folks. CHECK (LAT)
• Use this opportunity to learn enough about programming to create at least one app. CHECK (See first line of post)

That was a good time.

I’m planning a post on best practices for creating a searchable database application like this, with examples, and technical geekery, and all that, and I’d love your thoughts in the meantime.  Let me know if you have specific questions.

But in a moment of self-reflection, I’d just like to say this.

I was sitting in my apartment this morning, and found that a butterfly had somehow gotten in (blame a broken screen, maybe).  It sat on my windowsill, facing the outside world.  It would feel around the window, trying to find an opening.  After circling the perimeter of the window, it laid back down, almost motionless, just searching.  An hour later, the cycle repeated.  Wanting to help the poor butterfly, after watching it struggle, I tried to capture it in a small box to take it downstairs.  It was too smart for that.  Fine.  What actually worked?  Covering all the windows and opening the balcony door.  You can’t force the butterfly out, even though you’re helping, it had to find the path out on its own.

Why do I bring this up?  Am I slowly going insane after spending the day with Dive Into Python (rec’d)?  Perhaps. But I have a point.

Let’s take the common journalist, yearing to know more about data-driven apps.  (I can’t be the only one, I just can’t!)  I search for the answers, voraciously read, alternate between laying still while observing the space and wandering around the perimeter, feeling it out, trying to dip my toe in the water.  I jump into the pool, head-first, realize it’s not working.  Can’t do it on my own.  Many people who’ve already made the journey try to help.  But they just can’t just give me the knowledge, can’t just take me to my goal, can’t just make it happen.  They must lead me there, give me the same resources they used.  Recommend the books, the sites. But in the end, I’ve got to find my own way out of the house, the prison of not knowing enough coding basics to begin.  Pushes in the right direction, guiding me away from those false starts, this is essential.

I’d just like to take a moment to thank the experts, who guide me away from the false starts, who don’t give up when I keep turning the wrong way.  In particular, in terms of the programming skills I’m learning, it’s Ben Welsh (who I happen to have been working most closely with), who exercises that kind of patience.  Who never tells me not to fly into that closed window, because while it was closed for him, I might discover a way to get out.  Of course, I don’t, and he’s no less interested in helping me get back on course. Thanks!

Still a long way to go.  So, what’s changed?  Now, I’ve gotten outside.  I made my first app.  When someone asks me what steps make up a project, how long it’ll take, I can give a legitimate answer, or know how to find one.

I still remember wondering if I could ever build an application.  And Derek said to me, “There’s only one way to find out.”  Derek, who I used to bug on a daily basis about this stuff.  Derek, who I haven’t asked a Python/Django question of since March.  I’m the LAT’s problem now!

Well, as Derek said, find out we did.  Time to push it further, I say.

There’s a whole world to explore now that I’ve escaped being stuck inside.  LAT folks, prepare yourself, the questions you’ve seen so far are only the beginning.

Explore other posts:

• March 8, 2010 -- Data Delvers: Ben Welsh & Ken Schwencke, LA Times
• November 23, 2010 -- Join the data convo at PBS NewsNav
• April 5, 2010 -- Data Delver: Phil Meyer
• February 22, 2010 -- “Demos, not memos”: My first Django app
• February 8, 2009 -- “You don’t have to reinvent the wheel, Michelle”
• February 12, 2010 -- Data Delver: Gregory Korte, Cincinnati Enquirer

Added additional female programmer to my list below, thanks to a tip in the comments from the ever-present-in-my-life Derek Willis *waves*.  Do any of you know others I should add to the list?

Also fixed minor typos and omitted words, and added a few links I meant to include.  Omissions resulting from blogging at 3:30 am.  Painted blue skies inside IRE hotel messed up my sleep pattern more than usual — although it’s pretty messed up to begin with.

If we just met in the last few days at the awesome Investigative Reporters and Editors conference, welcome! (And if you’ve been following for months, weeks, days or hours — thanks for putting up with me!)

I had a marvelous time this week meeting new people, learning new things, and even teaching a little bit. It’s so invigorating to see how much great work is being done.  The minds of some of the greatest folks in investigative journalism are your classroom.  I’m delighted and honored that once in a while these same brilliant minds ask me about easy tools to help visualize data sets (*cough* Many Eyes, Google Fusion Tables *cough*).

I got some new ideas for my LAT work, and posts both here and at poynter.org. Although I do have to admit, I’m getting antsy having stepped away from coding for three whole days already. May be time to pick up a project at the airport while traveling.  Funny that about a year ago, I couldn’t have written a line of Python.

Now, some quick housekeeping notes. I will be occupied with graduation activities most of this coming week, although I may write a bit.

I am working on a couple of posts:

1. Bit off more than I could chew during my IRE lightning talk — so I’ll write more on what you can do (and how you can do it) to make your databases more “discoverable.”  That means making it easier for people to find their own stories.
2. A walkthrough of the static Google Chart API, which some have asked for. I’ve been messing with it a lot at work, colleague Ben Welsh has a great post on this here
3. 2 leftover Data Delvers I STILL haven’t posted (sorry, Cheryl Phillips and Andy Boyle — this has been going on for too many months…)  That’s where I post interviews with CAR specialists, data visualizers, and other data journalists in the field.
4. Summary posts from some IRE workshops.  Partially on what was covered, but more on WHY it’s important.
5. Let me know what you want covered.  Only learned what I have thanks to so many IRE/NICAR folks.  I’m eager to pay it forward, and I love writing about anything data-, programming- or journalism-related.  Curious how something works?  Ready for a rant on a topic?  Lemme know.

In the meantime, especially for the benefit of new readers and folks asking how to get started on programming-journalism, I’d like to replug my posts on what belongs in a data journalism curriculum, and how to go about teaching yourself data journalism.  Also, look just below this post on the main page for my thoughts on taking charge of your own journalism education.

Also, for those asking about my favorite resources, I highly recommend all the blogs I list in the right rail, although I have other favorites yet to be added.

In the past few days, a few people asked what I dub “the gender question.”  IRE continues to be dominated by white males, just as the programming world, and programmer-journalist world, is.  Yes, I’m one of two three female programmer-journalists employed at newspapers that I know of.  UPDATED: (The others is are Jacqui Maher of the New York Times, who I’ve chatted with, and Jackie Kazil of the Washington Post, who Derek Willis just mentioned in the comments.)  There are others at some of the investigative not-for-profits springing up, such as California Watch.  I don’t ignore the disparity, I don’t dwell on it.  If you want more detail, I’ll discuss it, but please read this post first, which summarizes my thoughts.

I’ll also take this opportunity to mention once again that I’m writing about data journalism for Poynter.org, when I have the chance.  Thankfully, my editor exercises a great deal of patience with my less-than-stellar adherance to deadlines (sorry!) I’ve written three pieces so far:

1. Miami Herald Marks Anniversary of Mariel Boatlift with Database of Passengers, Vessels
2. Dig into Archives and Memories to Present Primary Data on Historic Anniversaries
3. How to Scrape Websites for Data without Programming Skills

Thanks for your patience with my lagging activity. Please bear with me, and I’ll get even more active in the coming weeks, I promise.  The jetsetting tends to drag me away.

Explore other posts:

• January 4, 2010 -- Reflections on Visualization Theory (Data viz readings, week 1)
• August 28, 2011 -- Thoughts on starting a new adventure
• April 5, 2009 -- NYTimes Global Edition — do people care? Should they?
• January 19, 2010 -- Changes in the numbers of students majoring in programming and social sciences
• January 29, 2010 -- Data Delver: Perry Swanson, The Gazette
• September 28, 2011 -- Journonerd Crisis: Where am I, and where am I going? (ONA Wrapup)

I’m looking forward to it, yet it seems sort of surreal.  Graduation marks the end of one chapter, the beginning of another.  But I started the new chapter already.

As much as I love connecting with journos, I’ve discovered my underestimation of the year: I’ve got more to learn than I ever could have imagined.  People have said it in countless Web discussions.  Find a project, do it, pick up skills along the way.  So, I’m concentrating on that like I’m cramming for finals, but with a never-ending study period.  Producing an app in a day uses some skills, doing it right over the course of months is a totally different ballgame.

This is where I am now.  But that chat topic begs the question: Was there a point in going to Medill?  Did it mean more than the opportunity to walk across a stage in a purple gown two weeks from today?  Is it just some archaic tradition that has nothing to do with my new coding life?  To these questions, I want to shout at the top of my virtual lungs, “It was essential!  It mattered!  Without j-school, what I am doing would not be possible!”

It’s about much more than curricula

Don’t rely on the curriculum of your j-school.  Fine, Medill doesn’t teach coding, most j-schools don’t.  Maybe your school doesn’t teach this or that, doesn’t have the right specialization.  It doesn’t matter.  The most valuable lessons I learned from j-school didn’t happen in  a structured lecture hall.  They took place off the cuff, with colleagues while working on a story, with professors hounding them during their office hours.  J-school taught me story structure, technical skills, office politics, the philosophy veteran journos bring to the table.  I’ll say it again: We must apply our journalistic curiosity to learning about our craft.

It’s an approach I’ve taken to my work at the Times (Look, I’m all Cali-centric now, and don’t use “the Times” to mean NYT anymore — weird).  Even as I work on a project with the LA Times masthead at the top, it feels like school.  And that’s a good thing.  You couldn’t ask for better teachers.  Yes, so knowledgable, but also patient and kind, always available, and so, so, dedicated.  Whether it’s the data analyst who’s been at this for decades, or my fellow Web devs who’ve both been at the Times for less than 3 years, they have so much to offer.  Would I dare to not ask a question because no one assigned it?  Ha! Would you not ask a question at a press conference because no one told you to?  If you’re in this industry, or even if you just have one curious bone in your body, I hope not.

Life at the Times

So, what’s it like at the Times, for those curious?  I suppose “the best working environment I’ve been fortunate enough to encounter” is not a sufficient answer.  And I’ll add my continual disclaimer.  Should all journalists be programmers? No.  We each have our specialties.  I do wish all journalists knew that this work exists, and understood the basic building blocks of what coding makes possible, and how long it takes.  That being said, I don’t believe every journalist needs to embark on this path, and if you do, it is a career shift.  It’s one I’m frankly in love with, but not everyone needs to/should go this insane.

In the end, my day-to-day life isn’t all that different from how Medill functioned.  Bring your own ideas to the table, incorporate the feedback of others.  Communicate what you’re working on to others.  Instead of working with client papers, keep the rest of the team and the editors up to date.  But mostly, frankly, just get stuff done.  The “Los Angeles Times” may sound glamorous, but that’s not why I’m there.  (And no news organization is safe in this day in age.)  In the end, I walk in every day, and type code on a computer, just like I did when I was practicing.

Each day, I improve a tiny bit (one hopes), and gain a deeper understanding about how far I’ve yet to go.  And once the myriad of files cover up the desktop background image that says, “Los Angeles Times,” I almost forget where I’m working, but always remember why I’m working.  Providing information to the public, taking full advantage of the power of the Internet.  Embrace the future.  Inform the readers.  It’s a mantra.  It is the combination of journalism and computer science, and both tool sets inform each other.  If you just want to code, you can make a lot more money, and have a lot more job opportunities elsewhere.  If you want to write, same thing (although less with the money part.)  But that’s not why I started down this path.

I’m part of a tight-knit group that already feels like a family.  I know many people search their whole lives for that.  And when we work, we mean business.  After all, these are the people who brought us California’s War Dead, and Mapping LA and Homicide Report.  It is an honor to be working alongside them.

So, our team sits, fairly quietly, and you hear some talking, but more of the clicking of keyboards, and the occasional muttering, and the even more occasional cheering when something actually works (okay, that last one’s me).  And while I am fortunate enough to get help to get conceptually unstuck — often when there’s a bug, it’s up to you to fix it.  After all, it’s your application.  Just like in Medill, no one can write your story, no one can tell you what you did to make the CMS give you what was known as “the dreaded Alt error.”  Work with others, but be self-sufficient enough to build products on your own.  (If you’re wondering, no, nothing’s been launched yet, but you’ll see what gets done, all in time.  I’ll keep the blog updated on that score.)

But before you can do this kind of work, and push beyond the curriculum, you must be acutely aware of the basics.  And that’s where j-school comes in.  Teach me AP style, teach me how to write a lede, teach me all that journalism has taught us for the past decades and centuries.  Tell me your experiences, help me form my own experiences, because I’d rather get that knowledge sooner than later.  We  can only move forward once we understand what history has taught us.

J-school provides building blocks

We each make our own experience from what we learn in j-school.  I have colleagues from my cohort who are anchors, TV reporters, radio reporters, social media producers, Web producers and much more.  Our platforms range from print to magazine to online to broadcast (TV and radio).  We all took many of the same classes, but made the overall experience our own.

So, I thank Medill, with all my heart, for all the lessons, all the grounding, all the exposure to new ideas that taught me just how little I know.  I thank Medill for the essential building blocks. I thank Medill for being a practical program, giving me a playground to try some cool new things out.  I’ve still got that playground, it’s just bigger now.  I stumble every day. But if it weren’t for j-school, and specifically Medill, I’d be stumbling a whole lot more.

I use what I learned in j-school every day, both what was in the curriculum, and what wasn’t in the curriculum.  I accept my Medill professors as my teachers, I accept the NICARians as my teachers, I accept my LAT colleagues as my teachers.  And once in a while, my own experiences or what others have told me allow me to pass on some of my knowledge.

The learning never ends. A curriculum can speed it up, but if you don’t learn how to self-teach, someone else will.  It’s scary and invigorating all at the same time.  That’s a big reason why I spend my life this way.  I feel lucky to have found what drives me, and my graduation wish for everyone is to be able to apply your curiosity to discover what drives you.  Oh, and also, the realistic caveat — I hope the job market recognizes the importance of our passions so that we all find a way to make a living doing it.

Related posts you might enjoy:

• April 5, 2010 -- Women with coding skills are no Passover miracle
• March 24, 2010 -- Bringing data journalism into curricula
• March 8, 2010 -- Piece de resistance: Data viz wrapup
• March 5, 2010 -- Why we do what we do: Pursuing the sparkle
• March 2, 2010 -- Guest Post: Integrating data with our journalism
• February 22, 2010 -- David Carr at Medill

Part of it has been the chaos of moving, spending time exploring LA.  The other part is that I’m finally walking the walk every day.  I stepped out of the Medill bubble, valiantly tried  to explain to my friends and family what I’m doing out in California. “We’ll look for your articles!”  “Do you write feature stories?”  Me: “I tell stories through data.  No?  I do geeky stuff to create interactive apps for news.  No?  Ever used Excel?  Yeah, it’s computer-y stuff.”

I moved halfway across the country.  I oohed and aahed at the palm trees outside my window every morning, the giant building imprinted with the LA Times logo that looms above me as I emerge from the subway every day.  I got over how impressive the trees and the building are, and saw them as normal landmarks.  And I was reminded of why I do what I do, how there is so much more to be done, and the importance of striking a personal/professional balance (and believe me, I don’t do well with balance usually.)  The LAT is an experience that’s even better than I imagined it would be, and I’m just two weeks in.  But there’s a lot to accomplish, in terms of what I produce, and what I get out of the experience.  Every second brings new knowledge!

Here are some things I want to make sure I remember as the weeks go on.  This is the moment, and Toto, we’re not in Evanston sitting in Fisk Hall anymore.

1. The more you learn, the more you realize just how much you don’t understand.  “I get that models hook up to views, and are displayed through templates.  I conquered Django!”  That was me a few weeks ago.  How naive!  There’s always new problems to solve, and big concepts to wrap your head around.  Not impossible, but your dedication and concentration is required.

1.5. People with these skills are really, really needed. The more you know, the more you can get done. The sooner that happens, the more work you can do.

2. Faster isn’t always better.  I keep finding myself talking about how fast I can do something.  I think it’s the deadline mentality that’s been imprinted into my brain.  Sure, that’s needed.  But what’s more important is that the app tells a useful story, and even more fundamentally, that it actually works, and is able to be used.  Slow it down enough to make quality products we can be proud of.

3. Along the same lines, pushing yourself on the new skills until you drop won’t help.  I’ve been putting in long hours, coming home and reading up on Django at night.  I tell myself, “If I can just figure this out, then I’ll be at the level everyone else is.”  But it never ends.  The learning process is never done.  And giving up too much personal time isn’t going to fix it.  Work hard, play hard.  Step away briefly, come back with renewed energy.

4. Rich Gordon constantly told me to pursue the opportunity where you learn the most.  Or as Matt Mansfield put it, “Find the people doing what you want to do.”  Either way, both pieces of advice land me where I am.  If I knew everything, I’d be bored.  Teaching yourself is valid, and essential, but it goes faster when you’re around others who know more about what they’re doing.  Get 80 percent of the way there yourself, get someone to explain the problem you can’t solve, move on.  Repeat as needed.

5. Rejoice in your successes.  Not getting something can be frustrating beyond all belief, but part of what keeps me going is figuring out some neat little trick to make a feature work.  And there’s nothing quite like the elation when something goes right.

6. Don’t get bogged down in the trees.  One of the areas I’m seeking to improve is that I’ve gotten so caught up in, “Why is my database running so slow? How do I display my CSV in a view?” that I forget about adding new features, just thinking about when I’ll be done.  Then you just become a machine cranking out code.  Journalist-programmers can, and should, do more.  We must utilize our creativity.  I’ve overlooked the importance of using a system to track bugs to fix/features to add.  Getting lost in minutiae hasn’t been good for my mental health, and it’s not good for my apps.

7. There are always new features to add.  If you think an app is done, you’re not looking hard enough.

8. Don’t get intimidated by what you don’t know. No matter your level, you have valuable ideas you can, and must, contribute.

9. If you think it’s hard to actually do something, sometimes it can be even more difficult to articulate it.  I’ve had moments, where I’m certain I look like an idiot, trying to explain a problem to my new colleagues, and I just get tongue-tied.  “If I call it a method, and it’s actually a class, I’ll look dumb.”  I’m lucky to work with colleagues who know much more than I, they tell me it’s okay to take my time as I struggle to explain the issue.  Thankfully, they are kind and patient.  Here’s my challenge: Give yourself permission to screw up.

10. Stay in touch with the community at large.  I’ve fallen out of touch with the data journalism, and general journalism, communities.  I’ve felt out of step.  Personally, I’m working on a side project that should rectify this (more on that in the coming days/weeks).  Staying in touch with, and learning from, others in similar situations, but at other institutions, gives much needed perspective.

11. Always remember why we do what we do.  Think of examples of great work, what got you excited about the potential for the combination of journalism and technology.  Remember the sparkle in your eyes.  Capture that sense of wonder and joy, and draw on it every day.

Related posts you might enjoy:

• March 25, 2010 -- Self-teaching data and programming skills
• February 22, 2010 -- “Demos, not memos”: My first Django app
• April 11, 2010 -- Data Delver: Paul Monies, The Oklahoman
• April 7, 2010 -- Columbia’s new joint MS: Good start, but no panacea
• April 5, 2010 -- Women with coding skills are no Passover miracle
• March 29, 2010 -- Using Javascript for interactive Google charts

I didn’t retweet it for a few hours, because, for once, an opinion didn’t jump into my mind.  If you were in my classes at Medill, watching me wince in pain every time we stopped short of delving as deep as we needed to, complaining about the pervading fear of code in journalism, if you knew me, you’d think I would jump up and down, and say, “Now, why couldn’t I have that?  It would have been awesome!”  People are saying it helps people who aren’t coders become coders.  While some pointed out that Medill had this first, our program was for programmers to become journalists.  And how does that serve liberal arts majors who want to code for journalism?  Why isn’t it listed as a course option?  Wouldn’t this Columbia program make life so much easier?

Let’s put my biases out front: I’m a recent Medill grad.  I am a programmer-journalist.  I do not hold an interactive concentration from Medill.  I took no programming classes within Medill.  I did not participate in the programmer to journalist program. I didn’t get that tuition-free deal. Medill had this first, but didn’t have a curriculum for turning liberal arts majors into journo-coders.  And, you know what?  I don’t think they should.  You get something from pushing through it, pursuing your own interests, learning how to learn.

Sorry, I’m just not on board with a joint-degree program.  Take a few coding classes, but that can be done by cross-registering outside your department at many schools.  But understand that any coding you’re taught may be replaced by a new language years, weeks or days later.  We shouldn’t be taking too many classes in coding, but learning how to learn quickly from the Internet.  If, let’s say, you need a JQuery library to perform a certain task, know how to adapt tutorials, don’t think, “Now, this wasn’t in that degree I got, what do I do?”

As Poynter’s Dave Stanton pointed out, there’s a lack of statistics in this curriculum.  This is absolutely essential for people who will be concentrating in data mining, or data-driven app creation.  Perhaps this is easily remedied.  But it signals to me that there are probably similar holes elsewhere in the curriculum, holes I don’t understand as well.  Hopefully, these will be patched in future iterations.  I do have some concerns about the first class to go through this program, though.  But we must change curricula, or die.  And there will be some successes, and improvements to be made, with each new attempt.  Kudos to Columbia on taking a chance!

I also hope there’s a way to pick a specialization within the program.  This is a tall order to complete in a year, and you may excel at data analysis, or visualization, or automating news aggregation, or something else.  But they require a distinct set of skills.  I would approach this as I would a general journalism curriculum.  Get familiar with all the different options, figure out what you love, and get really good at it.

And perhaps the biggest problem of all is the misconception that by putting computer science and journalism classes next to each other, even with integration, we’ve created a recipe for programmer-journalists.  You don’t need to struggle to figure out what to learn, we can do it for you.  I can’t help but feel that this encourages complacency.  If I just listen to my advisor, and follow the steps laid out for me, I can do it.  But you must never stop learning.  What do you do when the syllabus runs out?  It’s essential to learn to learn what you need to know, and then do it.  If students don’t search beyond the curriculum, we may stop moving forward.  The world is moving too fast to create a finite cs roadmap at this point.

There’s something to sitting down and hacking something out.  Part of the beauty of coding is that anyone can do it, follow the steps, learn the language, and you WILL get it.  This program may give students a push, but it’s by no means essential.

So, sure, let’s encourage journos to take cs classes, talk to cs professors.  But gaining a masters in both fields, in little more than a year?  It’s a good option, but far from the only one.  It is only the beginning.  If you go to another school, you could make your own program, take classes in both departments.  This is formalizing what some of us are already doing.  If you enter this program, remember to push your faculty resources even further, and don’t believe it’s a panacea, cure-all, complete road map to what we need done.  This is the first rung up the ladder. There are other ways to climb, and even once you get to the first rung, in the end, it’s up to you to go ever higher.

Related posts you might enjoy:

• September 16, 2010 -- Journ curricula’s need for transition isn’t unique
• November 24, 2009 -- A letter to journo-programmers: Teach me, inspire me
• May 3, 2010 -- Note to self: Real world journo-coding lessons
• March 29, 2010 -- Using Javascript for interactive Google charts
• March 28, 2010 -- Data Delver: Mark Schaver, Louisville Courier
• March 25, 2010 -- Self-teaching data and programming skills

And now, something new!  There’s a connection between Passover and coding.  So many assume coding skills are magic, as miraculous as frogs appearing in Pharoah’s bed.  I beg to differ.

Seeing friends and family is also one of the best parts of almost any Jewish holiday (and the reason the posting has been lax). Even as I attend various seders, I’m conscious that it’s not a given that I’ll be back here in Chicago in 2011. One of my favorite traditions is the Women’s Seder at our local synagogue — Beth Tikvah Congregation in Hoffman Estates, Ill. — it’s been held since I’ve been little. The idea is that the typical Passover story leaves out the women, and they have a right to be heard. One of my favorite quotes is that a woman was once told she had as much right to leading a seder as an orange has to be on a seder plate. So, we put the orange on the Seder plate. Take that, patriarchal society!

This year, I walked in to the synagogue and was enthusiastically greeted by a family friend. “Oh, Michelle, it’s so good to see you!” ….small talk…. “We need your help, someone who knows Hebrew well…” Turns out, the cantor was sick, and they needed someone to lead the blessing after meals. It’s not short, but it’s not hard. It is, entirely, in Hebrew, with a strict melody. Different parts for leader and follower. A lot of fellow students had trouble with it, some told me my understanding of it was nothing less than magic.  And, it suddenly occurred to me. I’ve applied the same skills to coding as I did to learning Hebrew.

In both cases, I approach learning the skill with fervor and zeal, giving anything less than 100 percent just won’t do. Computer languages, foreign languages, they are all made up of characters that create phrases. People think it’s magic.   “But it’s not!” you want to scream.  It’s simple:  The more you practice, the better off you are. And in the end, there’s nothing like pressure to give you that added oomph to make all go well. You get up in front of a group, and the prayer just falls out of your mouth. There’s a deadline, and you just make it work. Demonstrate your knowledge, and feel the passion rush through you.

The rest of the Women’s Seder talks of sisterhood and bonding and mothers and daughters. Inspiring words and uplifting tunes make my heart swell, like I’m at a sentimental movie, but a movie about people I’m related to.

I don’t think about gender a lot in my everyday life, but after that experience, I’m on a bit of a kick.  I don’t talk about this often, but I’m not blind. The gender issue begs mention.

I notice there aren’t a lot of female Web pro-journos. Someone asked me recently if I was a feminist. I suppose maybe, but I feel as if that word has a negative connotation. I’ll go with this: I believe women have as much of a right to pursue any career they want as men do. But I also believe women have the right to work as homemakers, and that the work of a stay-at-home mom is just as important as that as a high-powered executive. (I’m biased: my mom stopped teaching when she had me,  and I loved growing up with her as a constant presence.)

I enjoy that female bond that I felt at the Seder, and need to be careful not to let it go just because newsrooms — and especially the geeky side of newsrooms — still feel a lot like an old boys club. I’m not the first to enter it, Jennifer LaFleur told me there was a group called “CAR Chicks” that used to meet up at NICAR conferences. And very few people have brought it up, and we’re only as far as we are because of many predecessors. But the difference is there.  While I gave birth to articles, Web sites and data-driven apps, I have friends from high school who have given birth to three kids, some who have married and divorced twice. We’re the same age. For everything you do in life, you give something up. Code too much, lose sleep. Report too much, forget to eat. Go to school far from home, miss out on family functions. Notice the pattern?  I regret nothing, but I must always remember that everything is at a cost. Balancing the personal and professional remains a struggle in my life, which has more to do with my age, and less to do with my gender, I suppose.

In terms of feeling welcomed, I couldn’t ask for a better group than the CAR community. Professors and supervisors almost never brought this up. This recent self-reflection is purely self-inflicted.

But prejudice still creeps into our society, and for our daughters, we must do better. It’s not so easy to stand up to negative thoughts while you’re finding yourself.  Like much of life, it shouldn’t be this hard.

I argue women don’t need special treatment, but don’t tell them they can’t do something. This isn’t the norm, thankfully, but it exists. Why is it still happening in 2010?

Here are a few personal examples of what’s not okay:

• A scientist at Argonne saying “No offense, but women’s minds just aren’t built for this type of stuff. You can do it, but not as well as we can.”
  My response: Yeah, that may or not be true.  I know this for certain.  Our minds won’t be built for it if you say they aren’t. I can give this needed consideration.  But tell a young girl that, and she’s done with coding, math and science.  Possibly forever, and at least, for a while.
• Someone saying to me at NICAR: You looked nervous during your lightning talk. Was that because you were the only woman?
  My response: Wow, I didn’t even think of that. Was actually nervous because of the standing room only crowd at my first non-class presentation. Thanks for putting that in my head, though. Why do we need to do this to people?
• The backlash in the comments, and elsewhere online, against this MediaShift article on pro-journos that happened to just include men.
  My response: We’ve only reached true equality when we’re not bending over backward to include both genders. If you’re choosing people based on best work, just choose them. Quickest response rate? Fine. Don’t profile someone because they are the first woman in their field.  I was particularly annoyed with this NY Observer piece – a textbook example of what not to do.  Don’t write headlines like “Times Interactive Team Makes First Female Hire.” Don’t write ledes including the phrase “…it’s a girl! Well, woman, really.”

Because in the end, the journalism isn’t about us. All we get is a byline at the top of a story, a credit line under an interactive. Our opinions matter, because we shape journalism. But in the end, we tell stories. Of men and women. Judge me on my work, don’t judge me on my gender. Don’t degrade me, but don’t make me any excuses, do me any favors. Not because I’m short, not because I wear glasses, not because I’m an English major, not because I’m a Gemini, not because I’m a woman. The industry has so many challenges right now, why must we create uninteresting ones?

Miriam had her own part in leading slaves out of Egypt. But there was no comment section under the Bible for her to complain in, she just did it. Credit or no credit. Whether she had to work twice as hard as Moses to be listened to, we’ll never know. If it’s good enough for Miriam, it’s good enough for us. We must use journalism to stand up for the freedom that others fought for centuries and decades ago and forget the egoism. Don’t tell me I can’t, or that it must be hard. Look back through history at people who really lacked freedom. Our struggles are not so great.

Pinch me if you hear another diatribe from me on the subject at my own initiation. I will always be willing and ready to encourage young women as well as men in the field, but other than that, I hope you’ll find me working to establish my own reputation, not discussing gender inequities. We’ve got enough meaningful work to do.

Related posts you might enjoy:

• March 2, 2010 -- Guest Post: Integrating data with our journalism
• July 11, 2010 -- Data Delver: Andy Boyle, St. Petersburg Times
• June 5, 2010 -- J-school: It’s relevant but demands you take charge
• May 3, 2010 -- Note to self: Real world journo-coding lessons
• April 11, 2010 -- Data Delver: Paul Monies, The Oklahoman
• April 5, 2010 -- Data Delver: Phil Meyer