I stood on a street corner next to abandoned buildings with a teenager who, for a moment, was homeless.

Leo Belton, 19, was just discharged from the Covenant House New Orleans where he had once lived, and had no place to turn.

I never thought that I would come close to tears on an assignment, but I did.

For the past week, I had visited the shelter with photographer Dana Pinkston to cover the organization and the people who call it home. Before actually entering the shelter, I thought of the different people I would need to meet in order to show a contrast of characteristics in my story.

I thought everything would be simple.

But when Dana and I took the time to speak with the residents individually, we became overwhelmed by their stories of despair and heartache.

As time past, I began to view my story more as a tribute to capture each resident’s emotion and pain. Dana and I focused on Leo and two other residents as subjects to do the story justice.

We all connected on an emotional level, and as we did the residents continued to reveal personal experiences. We became friends and before I realized what occurred, I was outside heartbroken with Leo who was contemplating robbing locals for money to survive.

As I stood next to Leo, I was reminded of how even the toughest unbiased journalist skin can be penetrated by something as soft and sensitive as compassion.

It was near impossible to stand next to Leo and look him in the eye as he told me that the only thing he needed was $30 to drift off to another city. He didn’t have the money, but I did and he knew.

It hurt to watch someone poisoned with pain while the antidote to their suffering is tucked away in your pocket. I didn’t respond to Leo, I just recorded what happened.

I felt incredibly low to deprive a person of money, as I left him to head back to the newsroom. I swallowed my feeling of guilt and held back my anger as I wrote about his life, and thought of possibility.

The possibility of someone reading his pain and wanting to help him. The possibility of his struggles becoming a spark for change in
New Orleans.

And the possibility that Leo would leave me with his story along with an experience I will never forget.

By Marvin Anderson

It became a running joke in the press box that if a game went into extra innings, they knew who to blame.  After the third game, I couldn’t help but agree.  Looking back, I feel that this experience has been a test of one of my claimed reasons for pursuing journalism—that I am easily bored and love the constant change that news provides. At times, I was eating my words, but in the end, I can honestly say that these past two weeks have not only taught me a lot about sports writing, but have also solidified the fact that I love the rush of an entire story changing in a matter or minutes and still rushing to meeting deadline. 

During the first night, I got flustered and frustrated, but by the next game I just went in there and got it done.  I realized that as a female sportswriter if color, I have to be on my A-game at all times. 

Practice makes perfect and NYT Institute has helped to push me to the next level.  For the rest of my life, I will know what a Zephyr is, and I’m confident that the guys in the Zephyr Field press box will not soon forget my two weeks on the job – nor what time they went home those nights.

By Caryn Grant

That’s the day the newsroom is at its worst.

Deadline day makes heroes. Someone will fall off the wagon and stop doing work completely and, if the newspaper is going to publish, someone else will step up to help carry the load.

You will have your types that sit and complain about the personalities and problems,  and others who will help everyone succeed despite that. Some will have panic attacks, some will attack the panicked and some that will bridge the gap in between.

I’ve been both the heel and the hero in the past and have learned lessons from the roles. If you’re the heel, you’re no good to the newsroom and should just go home. The newsroom is trying to achieve the goal of getting good information out to the public and any negativity, as in all things, will just slow the process down.

Being the hero is another beast, though. Yeah, you “saved” the day (or your ego) but are you going to be useful the next day? Most of the time the hero comes in fatigued and is less help the next time he’s on the schedule.

After getting scolded or questioned for cutting the full beauty out of the newspaper’s photos by our excellent faculty member and photo editor, Sandra Stevenson, I turned around and decided to be neither. I decided to write this blog entry.

And it made me realize, I should stop trying to be the hero all the time. Those who consistently do good work and help the common goal of the newsroom are the true jewels. If nothing else, this experience has given me that, modesty. Even when doing work toward a goal, we should be modest to make sure that we are respecting our mind, body and especially our souls.

Drew Costley

I recall a conversation that I had the day before the Institute began during which I remarked that this program would be a microcosmic representation of life in the real world. As such, it would be replete with over-the-top personalities, prima donnas, hotheads, drama queen (and kings) and show-offs.

Putting 30 of the nation’s top aspiring black journalists together in a competitive environment is bound to breed drama.

And so I made a vow that day to just sit back and soak it all in, certain that the shenanigans of the coming weeks would provide some comedic relief after a hellacious spring semester.

But then I started working on the copy desk.

Now, I don’t claim to be a saint. I know that I’ve got a personality type that can offend people at times. I know that I sometimes possess a pit bull-type tenacity that is often misconstrued. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ve built a reputation on being a hard-nosed perfectionist, and I welcome the criticism (whether justified or unjustified). But I can’t recall how many times I’ve been told “Well, it’s my byline” when editing a story. Or how many folk have huffed off in a rage because of a revision to their lede or rewording of their statements. Or how many snide comments I’ve overheard questioning my credentials.

Writers – get off of your high horses and recognize that you are not God’s gift to journalism. You are fallible, just as anyone else is. You make mistakes. You use malapropisms. You sometimes miss pertinent details. It’s the copy editor’s job to catch these problems and help you to grow and learn. And it’s been my experience that the good writers are the ones who appreciate the editing and soak up the knowledge being presented to them. It is those who have some growing to do that get offended because their talents are challenged.

But, as Don Hecker reminded us on the first day, this is a two-week, intensive workshop intended to provide us with real-world experiences in a newsroom setting. In the real world, professionals sometimes have to put up with folk they don’t really care for. They agree to disagree. They have spats and fallings out. But there has to be a certain degree of decorum in any business setting, no matter how relaxed.

I would like to think that I speak for all copy editors when I say that it’s not personal. When a writer’s work is edited or revised, it is simply intended to produce the best product possible. It is not an indictment or assessment of an individual’s writing style or skills. Rather, it is a function that is essential to maintaining a periodical’s reputation.

So writers, next time you see your friendly neighborhood copy editor, give them a hug. After dealing with journalistic egos all day, they probably need it.

By J. SAMUEL COOK

“Yo, B, hold on real quick,” said Harold Burnett, fellow design student, and the phone was handed to the new design lady, The New York Times’ news designer Cynthia Curry.

“You thought you were done,” Curry asked.  I was ready to go sleep and had no idea that Monday night after leaving the newsroom I would get a call to come back after 10 p.m.   I heard rumors that Curry was coming the last week of the 14-day program to crack the whip.

I wasn’t very happy about this.  Who does this lady think she is?  My eyes were so red you couldn’t tell if I was angry or tired.  Maybe it was both.  The rumors got me riled up to think this lady was crazy.

After walking back into the newsroom and laying out a page, I realized this lady was not crazy.  She was just about business.  Besides the fact she had me up until 1 a.m. designing, I found a respect for her tenacity.  This institute is a learning environment.  For me the worst situation, which was designing at 1 a.m., is the best experience for that.

By Bryon Summers

It’s a war that journalists are losing in the newsroom.

In the fast paced media industry, journalists rarely have sufficient time to pay attention to the battle, and this past week in the Institute has shown me that I am losing the fight.

Looking into a newsroom, I see fatigue, hunger and I also see junk food.

People, we’re getting fat.

I went onto the newsroom battleground and fried New Orleans’ delicacies were everywhere.

Half-full soda bottles littered the room, and there was a mountain-high stack of pizza with students rumbling through the boxes like Nancy Grace on a new development with Anna Nicole’s baby daddy. Everyone on the staff was hungry, and with such large appetites, our cholesterol did not stand a chance.

After such a hefty meal, I knew I had to make some personal effort to eat healthier. Other staff members wanted healthier alternatives to the greasy meals we were eating during our runs to different assignments.

At first a few of the students thought of emptying a Cheetos bag and filling it with carrot sticks, but we were told that might be too cruel.

After a few suggestions, nutritious alternatives began to appear around the newsroom. Fruit, soy nuts and even carrots replaced fatty foods.

The Institute is nearly over, but I know what’s coming. We have two more nights in the Big Easy and I know the smell of gumbo will lure some of the strongest journalists to indulge in Cajun cuisines.

This battle is far from over.

And when lunch is served in the newsroom again, I am heading to the trenches with carrots in hand.

By Marvin T. Anderson

There she sat, dignified, comfortable and poised in a small room filled to capacity with various leaders from the African American community. Despite being the only white face amid the crowd, Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton blended in. She was at ease in a setting other Caucasian politicians might find hostile.

A popular candidate among African American voters, one may wonder: will Clinton’s popularity spill over to the polls? African Americans have an unparalleled allegiance to her husband, former President Bill Clinton; however, their loyalty to her has yet to be seen.

Do black voters believe that Clinton will bring their issues of war, healthcare, poverty and unemployment to the forefront of American politics?  

Political pundits say no.

In a poll conducted by Zogby International, an independent polling firm, Sen. Barack Obama led Clinton 36 percent to 27 percent among Black voters. And a recent Washington Post ABC poll showed Obama leading with a 44 percent among African-American voters compared to Clinton’s 33 percent.

Clinton delivered a less-than-stellar speech Thursday, to frustrated New Orleans residents hungry for information and change at the Hubbard Mansion in New Orleans.

Much of the world, the current president included, has turned its back on the residents of New Orleans. Spectators wonder if Clinton will do the same.

She opened her address with, “I am embarrassed by our failures as a nation. Rebuilding New Orleans is an American obligation. This administration has really let this country down.”

Clinton vowed that she would do better.

“As president, I will work to increase opportunities for African Americans by improving our schools, our healthcare system, expanding access to capital, putting home ownership back in reach and cracking down on predatory lenders targeting African American communities,” said Clinton.

In a press release circulated throughout the media entitled, “A Friend to African Americans,” Clinton spotlights her contributions to the African American community.

The document reads: Senator Clinton has worked to protect civil rights and expand opportunities for African Americans throughout her career. As a law student, she volunteered her legal services, providing free legal services, mostly to African Americans, in need of assistance.  Hillary thinks it’s a travesty that fifty years after Brown v. the Board of Education, discrimination remains a reality.

Blah, Blah, Blah.

If Clinton is truly a friend to African Americans, she will do more. African Americans want measurable change not jargon. Improvements not politics. Results not proposals.

Since announcing her candidacy for President of the United States of America, Clinton has visited black churches, black colleges and black labor unions across the nations. In March, Clinton spoke in Selma, Ala., to commemorate “Bloody Sunday,” and on Saturday she served as the highly-publicized keynote speaker at Dillard University’s commencement ceremony.

I doubt if these appearances will help Clinton performance in the polls. Until the African Americans in New York, Clinton’s home state, begin to sing her praises, blacks will continue to support Obama. If the African Americans that make up her constituency do not support her presidential platform, then why would the remainder of the African American community?

For some African Americans, the old-saying blood is thicker is than water still proves true. There are those that question Obama’s blackness and his ability, but few that question his commitment to the black community. Obama is bound to black voters by heritage.

Clinton is not.

By Michelle J. Nealy

“Thank God, I am a poet because it is a release.  I can take [my anger] out on paper,” he said.  “I have several poems that I wrote about the storm.  I write it.  I release it.  I get it off my chest… And I am a mediator; I stay in the middle so my people can stay connected.”

With several dozen student and faculty journalists as an audience, Alexander recited his poems, “I Died Already” and “Will You Be There?”  He performed the latter poem in Spike Lee’s 2006 documentary, “When the Levees Broke.”  He also shot some of the video inside the Superdome that appeared in the film.

As a resident of St. Bernard Parish, which flooded with alligator and snake infested waters, Alexander was a victim of the storm’s aftereffects but said he knew his presence was not a mere coincidence.

“The Most High had me where I needed to be, and it worked out the way it was supposed to.  I would never take it back that I was there.  I needed to pay my debt to society and to God.  If there were children and elderly people there, that is where I should have been,” he said of his opportunity to help 18 people reach safety in the overcrowded Superdome.

“I felt like a slave,” he recalled.  “They had us all on top of each other.  They could have spread us out a little more.  It was like the slaves of the Middle Passage because it was super hot from the heat, bodies, and smell.  I found myself getting numb sometimes.”

But Alexander said he opted not to stay confined in the Superdome and decided to leave, although he did not know exactly where to go.  After walking from gate to gate talking to National Guard troops, who he said stood ready to fire, Alexander said he and a group of others escaped.

“Once we got down the ramp, there was no looking back.  And there was no way back,” he said.  “From there we decided to take our chances.”

He said he walked for three hours through water that ranged from three to five feet deep, at times almost reaching his shoulders.  He said he assisted the throng that followed him, found his truck, and drove toward Baton Rouge, all while holding his crucifix.

Though his own acts were bold, Alexander said he saw “a lot of heroes, even kids, with big kids carrying little ones.”

After reflecting on past damages, Alexander reverted his attention to issues that still persist, such as the struggling education system, which he said does not prepare students to pass the Louisiana Educational Assessment Program (LEAP) Test; a lack of affordable housing; and inadequate financial support to repair parishes like St. Bernard. 

With the number of problems that remain, Alexander said he despises media coverage of a “new New Orleans,” which he said is becoming a gentrified city.

“It makes me sick to my stomach that the media is sugarcoating the state of the city, making it seem like we’re on our way.  We are not on our way; the rich people are on their ways,” he said.  “And I do not see the media really helping us.  The people who volunteer, saying ‘How can I help?’ are the ones who make a difference… The only good thing that has come out of this is that [corruption] has been exposed, what really is going on down here.”

By Marcey Evans

At the end of a long day of designing, all I could think about was finishing the Web site prototype.  The last thing on my mind was pitching it to the New York Times Student Journalism Institute professionals.

I thought I was just going to do a sample or two.  Now I had to think about presentation.  I didn’t think this would be a part of newspaper design; I forgot this is still graphic design.

I grabbed a pen to jot down a few notes on why they should use my design.  I wrote a few things to say about the color scheme, the position and sizes of the photos as well as the stories.  The next day I proposed the idea in the daily 5 p.m. meeting.

The criticism came and I loved it.  A few minor changes in the design were suggested, but most of the comments were positive.  I heard the words “the design is clean” a lot.  Prior to the meeting I was nervous about getting my idea chopped up, but even more about speaking in front of a group.  In the end, they liked my ideas and I took the critiques well.

As a designer, you have to be thick-skinned.  The comments that seem negative only make you better in this business.  The worse comment you can receive is that the design is OK.

By Bryon Summers

It’s discouraging to work for a daily publication when you single-handedly lay out a 12-page bi-weekly paper. But with a staff of 30 students who all want to step outside their box and try something new, the task doesn’t seem so bad.

One early morning, Don Hecker, director of The New York Times Student Journalism Institute, asked for our project story ideas. I had already mentioned creating a graphic to illustrate the current conditions of
New Orleans’ streets, sewers, street signs and traffic signals. However, another student beat me to the punch with a story pitch on the same subject.

Another designer, Harold Burnett ofDelaware State University, also had a similar concept. We divided the project so I would work primarily with the graphics, and Harold would do the reporting since he had more writing experience than me. The student I originally planned to work with went with another story idea. Juggling art, designing the overall paper and Web site seemed tough, but it turned out to be easier than I thought. The job is a lot more productive when there is more than one designer. The institute definitely prepares students for life after the student newsroom.

By Bryon Summers