August 29, 2008

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Letters from DNC '04

Youth Radio's Ashley Hayes, Belia Mayeno, Sophie Simon-Ortiz, Jacob Schneider and Luis Sierra are in Boston this week, covering the Democratic National Convention. These are their letters to Youth Radio.

Friday, June 30, 2004:

After watching the first two nights of convention coverage on TV, I must admit I was somewhat skeptical of the images of dancing, flag-waving delegates on the floor of the Fleet Center. I mean, honestly, who could look at the ever-happy, smiling masses without thinking the whole scene was completely staged by the Democratic National Committee?

But after spending an hour on the convention floor Wednesday night, I can vouch for the fact that the frenetic excitement is truly contagious. As I rubbed elbows with high-profile politicians and celebrities, I could hardly resist the urge to grab an “Edwards” sign and start dancing in the aisles myself.

Sophie, Nick, and I hit the convention center with one-hour rolling floor passes at about 9:30. The scene down there was as chaotic as everyone says, with hot, packed aisles of crazed convention-goers. Every third person on the floor seemed to be a convention staffer, responsible for keeping the reporters and delegates in the aisles moving. Of course, every possible seat was filled, so we spent our time making lazy circuits of the floor. We saw Senator Joe Lieberman and Sex and the City’s Miranda at the Larry King booth, and rubbed elbows with such politicos as (former) California Governor Gray Davis and 1972 presidential candidate George McGovern. We stopped in for a while at the California delegation, where we snapped a few pictures just a few feet away from Diane Feinstein.

Fortunately, the convention security staff had given up all hopes of keeping the crowd moving by the time Cate Edwards (daughter of Vice Presidential candidate Senator John Edwards) took the stage. We stopped to watch the proceedings in the aisle between the Michigan and Tennessee delegations, positioned about 100 feet away and slightly to the left of the podium from where Edwards was speaking. Frantic campaign volunteers were scrambling up and down the aisles every few seconds (literally) to pass out nifty new signs for the delegates to hold up. I got myself an extra “Edwards” sign that I was planning to bring home as proof I was there, but unfortunately it soon fell apart (I guess my floor pass will have to suffice as a souvenir).

We watched Cate and Elizabeth (wife of John) Edwards enjoying the moment with growing feelings of anticipation. The moment of rapture arrived when John Edwards himself took the stage. The amount of excitement and energy in that room cannot be quantified—delegates spilled into the aisles as they beheld their rising star and even those reporters that tried to keep straight faces were floating in their shoes. Maybe it was just that we weren’t at the Fleet Center Thursday when Kerry accepted the nomination, but it seemed like people were more excited to see Edwards than Kerry. The fairy tale came true when Edwards began his speech. I was fixated. He, and the convention, had won me over.

One slight hiccup that we hadn’t anticipated was the fact that our floor passes were due back at the credential booth at 10:30, a mere ten minutes after Edwards began his speech. We watched the rest of the address with everyone else who couldn’t get onto the floor on a TV in a hallway in the Fleet Center. But a passing reporter put the whole experience in perspective. When he heard our story, he said “Everything happens for a reason. Maybe you had to leave the floor of the Fleet Center when you did so that you would appreciate the time that you had there.”

And I do. When I arrived in Boston on Sunday, I thought I was too cynical to be hypnotized by the spectacle cooked up by the DNC. But I leave Boston today still in awe of my close encounter with the man who may soon be the Vice President of the United States.

- Jacob

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Thursday, July 29, 2004:

These past couple days have been my introduction to the fast-paced world of radio journalism. I’ve been working with an excellent group of talented people that have helped me polish my journalism skills, and see how important it is to add youth flavor to the sometimes too-serious public radio mix.

Yesterday, for example, I had to deliver two different radio features. The first one was my debut on NPR -- the story of a young delegate from Arkansas named Alejandro Aviles. The coolest part of working on such a deadline was that I got to hear the story air live during the cab ride home from the NPR studio. It was an amazing experience to hear my work play for millions of people nationwide.

My second piece was a “behind-the-scenes” story about the most prestigious party taking place here in Boston, given in honor of Teresa Heinz Kerry. At Mistral, one of Boston’s fanciest restaurants, I spoke with the staff who were preparing to make sure the party would go according to plan. Producing this story turned out to be just as hard and demanding as the first one. But after all is said and done, I can see how much I love working in radio, hearing my work play for so many radio listeners who aren’t used to listening to a voice like mine. This has definitely been the coolest thing I have ever done…

Just to give you some overall impressions of what I think about the Democratic National Convention and all the hoopla that happens on and off camera, I think it’s been a mix of excitement and curiosity. It’s not hard to get swept up in the parade of celebrities and politicians, but what I really want to know is how all these big speeches and slogans will actually benefit me and my community in East L.A.

Thanks to all the staff at Youth Radio and my family and friends at home for supporting me through this East Coast adventure!

Peace,
Luis

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Wednesday, July 28, 2004:

Despite my best efforts to change, and numerous close calls, I, Ashley Hayes, am still a notorious procrastinator. While I’ve trained myself to function on as few as four hours of sleep, all-nighters still take their toll on me both physically and mentally. This week, I’ve found that working until the wee hours of the morn hits me even harder when trying to cope with journalistic frenzy of covering the DNC.

On Monday morning I found out that I would be profiling an 18-year-old delegate from Mississippi with a serious political ambitions and tremendous admiration for Bill Clinton. Earlier in the day I’d gone walking through the Fleet Center with two other members of our crew, marveling at the hustle and bustle, the huge media camp (they weren’t kidding about the 3-to-1 journalist to delegate ratio), and the fact that on the first day of the 2004 DNC we were standing on a floor soon to be occupied by some of the most important folks in the country. I was so pumped and excited when I got back to our place, I couldn’t fall asleep during my designated 90 minute nap-time.

Later, two Youth Radio producers and I strolled past the protestors and curious spectators of the “Free Speech Zone” into the walkway that led to the security checkpoint that led to the entrance to the convention. Sporting the neon green credential around my neck I felt exclusive… for a minute. I knew I wasn’t as special as the people wearing red, light blue, or blue tags, who had access to the floor, backstage, and podium access. However, my neon green tag still got me where I needed to go: the stairwell where we held our interview and the seat on Level 7 located almost behind the giant screen. Though I didn’t have as good a view as the audiences across America and across the world watching from home, I still felt waves of excitement being immersed in the deafening cheers of the convention hall and seeing the Clintons speak right in front of me (wow!), even if all I saw were their backs. I have to give Bill credit though: he did take time before approaching the podium to greet the crowd with a panoramic smile and wave, turning to face even us folks in the back. I felt special for a minute again.

When the event ended I was quickly reminded that I had come here as a journalist, to work. The process of piecing our recording together into a story that was to air on NPR in about 11 hours began almost as soon as we got home, at about 1 a.m. For the next four hours my producer and I chained ourselves to our task, trying to fight off the natural inclination to sleep at that time of night and the growing dysfunction of our tired brains. I tried to comfort myself with the thought that hundreds of other journalists in the city were going through the same thing, challenging the limits of human physical and mental endurance to deliver a story to the world, and enlighten the masses! Ironically, later today, I found out that most NPR reporters were actually asleep like normal people, ha. Anyway, by about 4:30 a.m. my producer and I had edited together a decent first cut that would only need a little fine-tuning before airing on NPR’s “Day to Day.” Satisfied, I went to bed, finally, and tried to snap-out of the adrenaline flood that had helped me stay awake.

I awoke around noon to the news that our finished product was just about to play. For the rest of the day, I’ve been trying to recover from the mood swings and appetite that come from not sleeping or eating enough of late. But I’m still loving the experience of being here. I can sleep when I get home- my bed in Atlanta’s not going anywhere.

- Ashley Hayes


We finished up the young blogger story today, so I figure I should have learned a little bit about blogging by now. (If you see the KRON piece, please note my conservative button-down Newscaster Blue shirt. I thought it might make me seem more official.)

According to some of the blogs I've looked at today- the biggest news story seems to be the pictures of John Kerry in the spacesuit at Cape Canaveral. The Democrats are upset about them, (because they do make Kerry look like a big Q-Tip) but as a voter I liked Kerry a little better after seeing the pictures. Looking ridiculous sometimes is part of being human, and those pictures made him seem a little more human to me. Plus, Kerry's space outfit made me think of the TV Room in the Charlie and Chocolate Factory movie. And I like anything that makes me think about Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Ever since we got here to Boston, I've been craving Ethiopian food, because some East Coast natives told me it's tastier out here. We finally had some today, and it was a big deal because Reina (the TV team's assistant producer) had never tasted Ethiopian food before. Reina's had some pretty special moments in the past few days... her first bite of Tsibi Wot chicken... and more importantly, she accidentally touched Michael Moore's butt in the Fleet Center elevator. She came home with the names of all the famous people she'd seen on the convention floor written on her arm...Tom Daschle, Jesse Jackson, Star Jones (and her boyfriend), Howard Dean & Mo Rocca from the Daily Show. But the ink wasn't washable, so now among other things, she has "Star Jones & Fiancee" tattooed on her arm for the next couple of days.

I think that's been my favorite thing about working the convention. It's been great to get to know more about the little idiosyncracies of the Youth Radio staff and students- the kind of things that you only learn when you have to be in someone else's company constantly for days at a time. Those moments of interesting conversation and silliness make the fatigue and stress of convention coverage easier to deal with.

-Belia Mayeno

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Tuesday, July 27, 2004:

Is it really only Monday night? It already feels like these past two days have been two weeks, with all this running around and spur-of-the-moment decision-making. That’s the excitement and true challenge of covering this political carnival, where everything seems to be constantly changing. There’s so much going on here, and the whole city seems to be buzzing with events—parties, protests, meetings, you name it, Boston’s got it right now. Where to even start?

Clinton wowed the crowds tonight at the Fleet Center (the center of this crazy storm, where the convention is being held). I didn’t really get to watch because I was busy checking out the parties that were already underway all over town. What I did see of his speech I was surprisingly inspired by. He really got down to specific issues and didn’t beat around the bush (no pun originally intended, but I’m not erasing it, even though it’s cheesy). It’s almost 2:30 a.m., ya’ll, and I’m still juiced. It helps to be on California time too.

Tonight I tried to go to a Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender party at a local club, but got turned away for being too young. Since that didn’t work out, we headed back over to Cambridge (home of Harvard, sorta reminds me of Berkeley). In Cambridge we stopped by a ritzy Asian American party complete with fancy nibbles and live music. The night doesn’t really get started until at least 11:00 p.m. when the official convention stuff is over, so both parties were pretty empty when we showed up. Everyone who wasthere was glued to Clinton’s speech and applauding at all the same moments as the convention crowd, as if they were in the convention center themselves.

The convention is definitely more of an energizing rally than anything else. And people are certainly excited—on all sides. We saw the tail end of an anti-capitalist/anarchist protest march this afternoon. The scene drew lots of cops when some young Republicans also showed up, dressed in 10 foot-tall flip-flop sandals to dramatize their perception of Kerry as a “flip-flopper” on the issues. There was no real stand-off, but it was quite a contrast; you had the stereotypical hippies with their Nalgene water bottles and Birkenstocks on one side and then the clean-cut, Abercrombie-wearing young Republicans on the other. Just one snippet of the scene here in Boston.

The most interesting part of our trip over to the Fleet Center was our glimpse at the designated “Free-Speech Zone,” a completely enclosed area that’s across the street from the convention center, under a freeway overpass. It’s where all protestors are supposed to voice their opinions and rally, but it’s completely cut off from the convention activities and surrounded by huge barbed-wire coils. I’m curious to see what’ll come next, since there are still three more days left of the convention. And I never imagined there would be so much going on behind the scenes! Okay, that’s all for now, sleep time.

- Sophie Simon-Ortiz

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Monday, July 26, 2004:

Yesterday, as a kind of introduction to the city, we took to the streets of Boston’s North End to gauge how Bostonians feel about the convention. The North End is Boston’s old Italian neighborhood, and we spoke with some very local characters—over the three hours that we spent roaming, we were serenaded in Italian by two nutty men, talked politics with some teenage punk rockers looking for pizza, and witnessed the statue of Saint Joseph being dragged down the street covered with one dollar bills behind a marching band. (Apparently this is part of a traditional festival, but definitely one of the more bizarre sights that I’ve seen in a while). Spending some time with some real Boston residents, whose reactions to the DNC ranged from lukewarm to completely negative, reassured me that we’re here looking at a real, breathing city, not just a stage for the Democratic Party to gather a national audience.

In fact, at times, it seemed that regular Bostonians were a little too out of the loop about the convention. When we asked one woman if she was excited about the prospect of meeting celebrities, she said “I heard that Stacy Keibler and Mick Foley are coming to town.” For the record, Stacy Keibler and Mick Foley are professional wrestlers. I have yet to hear either name linked to convention gossip in the mainstream media coverage.

Surprisingly, downtown Boston is empty. I was expecting huge crowds, traffic congestion, and a deluged T subway system. Either everyone in Boston cleared out for the week (not a bad idea), or all of the hype about convention craziness was overblown. Hey, I’m not complaining. I’m just as happy not competing for a seat on the train. It’s just weird to have our transportation so easy on the first day of the DNC. (Don’t tell our producer Deb I said this. She thinks we’re tempting fate by bragging about our great karma. I tend not to be so superstitious, but time will tell. Perhaps the streets will swell with people these next few days…let’s hope not).

There’s a very visible police/paramilitary/secret agent man presence. When I talked to a Boston Police lieutenant near the Fleet Center security barricade yesterday, he said the security plan’s been in the works for eighteen months. There’s hardly a corner or intersection without at least a few cops or men in suits (with the little earpiece thingies). Yesterday there were some ominous looking helicopters circling over the Fleet Center area. In the North End, we talked to a restaurant owner who told us that she thinks that the ubiquitous security forces have scared off both Boston residents and visitors from patronizing local businesses. However, we did see a good number of tourists and Bostonians out on the street.

During the events themselves, I’ve had to show photo I.D. at every convention checkpoint that I’ve passed through (there were three on the way to claim our credentials) and presumably it will be the same at the entrances to the Fleet Center. However, at each check, they accepted my Berkeley High School student I.D. as valid—ultimately a good thing for me considering that I’m too young for a driver’s license and stupidly left my passport at home. But I don’t even want to think about what that says about the state of security in general.

I plan to spend tonight with a group of young voters gauging their reaction to the convention proceedings. If the DNC really wants to harness the youth vote, tonight’s the night to do it, with both Clintons and the winner of MTV’s essay contest on the bill. The party is hoping that by throwing celebrities and specially chosen representatives of young people into the ring, Kerry can pull the youth vote—which could make a big difference in a close election—in September.

- Jacob


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