Leave No Education Journalist Behind

It feels like we’re watching education journalism fall apart right in front of our very eyes, and — so far, at least — nobody’s doing much about it. But it doesn’t have to be that way.

By Alexander Russo

However inclined I may be to criticism, I am not particularly inclined to worry. When the COVID-19 crisis first appeared, I was not among the first to sell stock or stockpile toilet paper.

So it surprises me to be as worried as I am right now about education journalism, as the full social and economic ramifications of the COVID-19 crisis play out.

Under immense pressures from the demands of the COVID crisis and the struggles of the industry, education journalism’s future is increasingly unclear.

There’s still some great work being accomplished, but there aren’t nearly enough reporters to get the job done. And by and large, those who are on the job seem overwhelmed and increasingly burned out.

It’s entirely understandable, given the enormous and relentless workload. Several education journalists have been furloughed or assigned to other beats. At least two have been laid off.

Smart and tough-minded as they are, education reporters and editors will tough it out. My worry is that, when we get to the other side of this crisis, education journalism is going to be greatly diminished: smaller, less diverse, and less talented than it was before.

That doesn’t have to happen. A strong, coordinated response from the philanthropic community and education journalism organizations could limit the damage to education journalism and position it to thrive in coming years.

The proposed budget to accomplish this mission? A million dollars. The proposed motto? “Leave No Education Journalist Behind.”

However inclined I may be to criticism, I am not particularly inclined to worry. So it surprises me to be as worried as I am right now about education journalism.

Faced with a massive story and the challenges of working remotely and supervising their own children’s schooling, education journalists seem overwhelmed and/or burned out based on their Twitter timelines and what they tell me privately.

During a massive education story, education writers are also being furloughed. The Providence Journal’s Linda Borg described the experience in a series of journal entries for The Grade. It was in some ways a preview of leaving.

Some education writers are helping cover the COVID crisis. Others are being moved to other beats. And at least two education reporters have been laid off: the Cleveland Plain Dealer’s Patrick O’Donnell and the Austin American-Statesman’s Aaricka Washington. O’Donnell had been at his paper for years. Washington had arrived a few months ago.

These challenges aren’t just happening at papers owned by venture capital funds. Last week, the LA Times guild announced a series of concessions aimed to avoid weeklong furloughs and possible layoffs. The Philadelphia Inquirer is offering buyouts.

Even before the current crisis, talented young journalists were leaving just when they were flourishing. Talented veterans were freelancing when they should have been given more opportunities to lead.

Even before the COVID-19 crisis, the K-12 education landscape was too big for the number of people assigned to cover it.

Already, too few reporters were covering too many school districts. Places with several education reporters working together — WBEZ Chicago, the Seattle Times, the Boston Globe, and the Washington Post — were the exception.

Hard to believe, but for the past 18 months or more there’s been just one full-time reporter assigned to cover the entire NYC K-12 education system for the New York Times.

Talented young journalists were leaving just when they were flourishing. Talented veterans were freelancing when they should have been given more opportunities to lead. The few remaining freelancers who can afford to remain in journalism were being forced to work like mad to pitch, write, and publish enough pieces to make rent.

And, after a decade of funding education coverage, some foundations were said to be rethinking their strategies. The Atlantic magazine all but abandoned its once-formidable education page, despite Laurene Powell Jobs’ deep pockets and ostensibly strong interest in education.

Related: Exit interview: A star reporter explains why she left journalism, A brain drain in education journalism

Thus far, at least, layoffs have been relatively few. Education writers have figured out how to write powerful stories about the crisis despite the challenges of remote reporting and all the rest.

There have been some bright spots and silver linings.

Many newsrooms have implemented workplace flexibility policies, letting reporters not just work from home but also work the hours that make sense for them considering reporters’ family responsibilities. The folks at CALmatters applied for and received a $500,000 federal loan to help make payroll. Last week, the staff at Inside Higher Education announced they were forming a union, the first education trade publication to my knowledge to make that move.

Education writers have figured out how to write powerful stories about the crisis despite the challenges of remote reporting and all the rest. The Boston Globe’s education team has refocused on the massive interruption that so many students are experiencing. The 74 has announced a new vertical focused on the crisis and announced its first hire (Texas-based Bekah McNeel).

Education journalism is still full of talented reporters and smart newsrooms. The Globe’s Valedictorians Project was just named as a Pulitzer finalist for local reporting.

Thus far, at least, layoffs have been relatively few.

For starters, newsrooms could help themselves during the pandemic by collaborating rather than competing (and repeating). At a more basic level, education and journalism funders could gather together and pledge that no education journalists will be left behind.

These instances are too small and scattershot to make a real difference, I fear. But it doesn’t have to be that way.

For starters, newsrooms could help themselves during the pandemic by collaborating rather than competing (and repeating).

However amicable education journalists are with each other, they and their organizations seem stubbornly reluctant to collaborate, even in a crisis as massive as this one.

So they race to cover important topics even if another outlet is already doing the same (or has done so recently). And they essentially repeat the same work that’s already been done, instead of covering new ground.

We might need one or two national stories about grading practices or absenteeism among students during remote learning, but we don’t need five or ten.

The lack of collaboration and experimentation among education teams is exasperating and unfortunate. The repetition of copycat stories is a waste of reporting resources during a crisis in which there needs to be as much efficiency as possible.

At a more basic level, to keep the ranks of journalists from shrinking further during this crisis, education and journalism funders could gather together and pledge that no education journalists will be left behind.

Nobody who’s working in education journalism should be forced to take an unsustainable pay cut, have their stories abandoned/unpaid, or have to leave the beat. We need all hands on deck. We can’t afford to lose more people.

A month ago, I proposed a rescue fund for education journalists, to help protect the people we need from leaving the beat. I published the idea here and emailed the idea to foundations (including several that support The Grade) and others.

I don’t think it would take more than $1 million to pull off. That’s small change for folks with pockets as deep as Mark Zuckerberg, Laurene Powell Jobs, Bill Gates, and Jeff Bezos.

So far, there’s been little response. But it’s not too late — yet.

Previously: Rescuing education journalism, When “all hands” isn’t enough