In 2009, I had figured out my news consumption, after largely ignoring any news for my childhood and adolescence and through college. On the weekends, now working a full time job, I would fold my laundry in my apartment, and listen to NPR’s Planet Money. They were covering the economy through the lens of the news—so I would learn about longer term issues, without being bogged down in the rollercoaster of the day to day.
Later, I learned that one of the hosts of Planet Money had tried multiple times to get the hosts of the NPR’s hourly news broadcast to stop using the change in the Dow Jones Industrial Average—you’ve probably heard it called “the Dow”—to end their update. Keeping the newscast exactly to time is crucial for local public radio stations to fit it seamlessly into their broadcasts, and the Dow’s change is a convenient, short statistic that the hosts can use to fill a couple to several seconds, depending on how they phrase it.
Why did the Planet Money host want them to stop using it? Because the Dow Jones was created as a way to measure the stock market across time. It is meant to be looked at monthly, certainly not daily. Calculated daily, it jumps too erratically, and that unpredictability risks people making rash stock decisions, making that number—and the economy it summarizes—more volatile than it might be otherwise.
Wanting to pace my news consumption is just like needing to pace monitoring the Dow. As I expect you’ve experienced in the last weeks, following the news closely can set our heads spinning and our energy flagging. But if we pace ourselves, it can feel more manageable and less crushing.
The problem I’m having now, however, is that my weekly, minimal news consumption in 2009 was born out of the ability to keep the news at arm’s length. I didn’t need to follow the news, because it never really effected by life.
Today, I’m trying to find a way to get that stability of mind without checking out from the world that I want to help grow.
During the Biden administration, I found a new balance that worked for me. I followed accounts on Instagram whose credentials I checked as I found them. Thanks to “everyone” needing to be on the social platform, I could bring the news that I needed to me, and purposely intersperse it with more lighthearted and encouraging content.
I took that balance and applied to what I shared in my Instagram Stories, ephemeral posts that my followers could easily flip through. I admit I’m proud that a friend told me they recommend my account to their own friends, exactly because I shared a mix of political news (and actions) and the content that keeps us going.
Now, during Tr*mp’s second administration, I don’t know how to find the balance again. Having worked at NPR during his first, I potently remember the chaos of the news—and the Tweets, the TWEETS—during that time. Journalists desperately reported on, in my opinion, too many of his shocking statements, in their effort to keep the public informed. But I think it only contributed to the collective ennui of people who could otherwise counteract the damage of that administration.
During and after inauguration, I completely avoided the news. After a few weeks away, I reinstalled Instagram on my phone, but I rarely check it. For distraction, I turn instead to books, video games, and research projects. In some ways, this disconnection feels irresponsible.
But I’m also noticing that I can find connection—and action—in other places. In addition to continuing to attend the Ethical Society of St. Louis nearly every weekend, I’ve nearly completed my training as a Museum Guide for the St. Louis Art Museum. The program emphasizes the need to connect with visitors and to honor their life experiences and perception of art. And earlier this year, I joined a queer choir—which fills my heart with joy and has provided a way to find belonging in a new community.
In an email with one of my Grinnell Students for Peace interviewees about this chapter in US history, he reminded me, “Think global, act local.” It’s a slogan that was born in the environmentalist movement, but one that can be easily applied to any cause we care about.
Local actions have such possibility for change and connection. We have more power to effect local elections than a national ones. In doing so, we shape policies that directly effect our neighbors. In doing so, we move good people one step closer to regional and eventually national positions of power.
When we get to know our neighbors, we’re better able to care for them. We can bring them love and food when they need it, or we can let them know when ICE is around the corner. Whatever skills we have, we can use them to make our communities stronger.
Doing these things brings me hope and reminds me that I can help the world be the one I think we deserve. Doing these things helps real people. And if we each act in our own communities, our country and our world will become better, just as we hope it will.
I still don’t know how I’ll shape my news consumption during this administration. It will evolve over time, and I’m doing my best to be ok with that.
Although it makes me uneasy that I might be hiding how I was back in 2009, I know that I have become more myself since then. I have found ways to work toward the world I want, and I will continue to figure how I do that, just as the world continues to shape and reshape itself.
GSP Update: Taking it slow
I have mostly continued my hiatus from Grinnell Students for Peace research. I have a few books that I’m evaluating for relevance, and I’m working on a zine to explain the project and demonstrate my current illustration skills.
While I sometimes feel pressed to push my progress on it, I know that the only way I’ll finish it is to listen to myself and to practice a sustainable pace.
Mentioned in this issue: Planet Money, the Down Jones Industrial Average,the Ethical Society of St. Louis, how to protect neighbors from ICE (follow the “Free prints” link), and “Think global, act local.”
Thank you for sharing the insight you learned from Planet Money and NPR. I find myself mulling it over and learning it too. Rather than teaching Media Literacy, you demonstrate how to live and breathe it. Thank you