In daily first-person journal entries, a furloughed education reporter will describe what it’s like to be told to stay home during a major news event.
Today is the first day of my seven-day furlough and I’m already anxious.
I’m not supposed to open any of my work emails.
Virtually all my email is work email except for Wayfair and Joss and Main. I’m staring at the screen, thinking, “O.K. Who will know if I open the New York Times op-ed from Brown University’s president?”
I jump to Twitter to see what the competition is saying.
In my state, the local news market is highly competitive: three television stations, NPR, and a major regional news outlet. All of the other reporters are digital natives, unlike this late-middle age scribe.
But it’s a very friendly market. When I announced that I was going on furlough, one of my competitors private-messaged me to say he would pick up groceries if I needed anything from across the state line, an inside joke because so many of us “cross the line” to shop.
Typically, I’d be preparing for my morning Google meeting with the “coronavirus” strike team. It’s hilarious because this is the first time since 9-11 that an education reporter has been included on any strike team, virtual or otherwise.
I’ve been a reporter since I was a child, when I would bicycle around my suburban neighborhood, looking for “quotes” from Mrs. Bates, who hated children, and the ancient family doctor, who once X-rayed my lungs and told my mom I had an enlarged heart.
I’ve been a reporter since I was a child, when I would bicycle around my suburban neighborhood, looking for “quotes” from Mrs. Bates, who hated children, and the ancient family doctor, who once X-rayed my lungs and told my mom I had an enlarged heart.
Fast-forward to my first “real” job, when I wrote for a weekly broadsheet that paid by the inch. I wrote 30-inch stories on the Zoning Board. My lede was usually buried in the tenth graph.
Finally, I landed my dream job at a major metropolitan daily known as a “writer’s” paper. I covered one of the first major sex abuse scandals in the Catholic Church. Earlier, I covered two Kennedy weddings and two funerals.
Three decades and two major corporate buy-outs later, the newsroom is hollowed out, more empty desks than occupied ones.
The over 50-staff remember when we would “flood the field” on a major breaking news story.
They remember the celebration when we won a Pulitzer. At that luncheon, we all received glass paperweights that listed all of the three dozen cities and towns we covered. We no longer have that luxury.
But the paper is still a force to be reckoned with.
I have covered four state education commissioners, the NECAP tests, the RICAS tests, the Common Core, the NCLB, ESSA, high-stakes tests, performance-based graduation requirements, CTE, you name it.
I hate working from home.
I miss the newsroom.
I pray that the “new normal” doesn’t become permanent.
I hate working from home. I miss the newsroom. I pray that the “new normal” doesn’t become permanent.
It’s 7:30 a.m. and I’m already drumming up story ideas.
The college students known as Dreamers who aren’t eligible for federal stimulus aid.
The high school students who have disappeared from teachers’ radar because they have stopped logging into virtual classrooms.
The school nurse who has volunteered to work on the front line of the COVID-19 pandemic.
The message on my email account says something like, “I will not be responding to any email while I’m out on furlough from Monday, April 27 until Monday May 4.”
I wish it didn’t.
Previous first-person education reporter reflections:
An education reporter’s unexpected ‘second act’
‘I used to be an education reporter.’
On motherhood and education journalism
What it’s like being a rookie education reporter
What’s missing from back-to-school news? A reporter reflects.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Linda Borg
Linda Borg has been a reporter at the Providence Journal for 36 years. For the past 16 years, she has covered education: K-12, the colleges, and the state Department of Education. The best part of her beat is going into classrooms and speaking with students, especially those who struggle against inequities. Linda’s favorite thing in the world is ocean swimming. Her next favorite is spending time with horses. She is nearing retirement but still loves reporting.
