We were asked to write a short story in 10 minutes, just off the top of our heads, an exercise of sorts. Here was my short story (unedited):

***

Every news channel and newspaper was out for blood. They wanted to be the first at every news event that broke. Stories were poorly edited, to quickly go up on news sites. Stations broke into programs every five minutes to tell even the smallest of stories. Getting it right was no longer the primary value of the news media; it was about getting the story.

Soon, every TV station and every Web site carried the news. It was news overkill and people did not know whom to trust or if what they heard or watched was true. They began to mistrust each other in conversations, exaggerating stories themselves. No one trusted anyone. Protecting oneself became important. Fear was in everyone’s lives — the fear of not knowing what was real and what was made up in the news and in their own lives.

Violence started happening more, more killings and rapes. People purposefully turned away form the news because it was so sensational and negative.

A group of teens met secretly to talk about what was happening. They had learned to trust each other. They invited their friends to these discussions and soon knocked on neighbors’ doors, and talked about their lives and what they were dealing with in very raw terms.

Their lives became their news. Soon people who could shoot and write began covering their communities and the news that affected their neighbors.

Community journalism was renewed and it became human again.

***
When I reflect on this story, I can’t help but think the answer to journalism lies in the next generation of young journalists who can see the wrong. Maybe that’s why my calling was to coach journalism students and why I spent years studying young adults’ news behaviors.

Here are four notable differences between being a tenure-track faculty member and being a journalist (copy editor/web producer). I wrote this list not with cherry-colored glasses (I despise cliches), but from the viewpoint of a former tenure-track journalism professor who decided to make the dive back into journalism. I know there are others out there who have considered or are considering this career move, or maybe even thinking of jumping into the academy from the field, so this post is for you.

1. Journalists, specifically those of us who work inside the newsroom, are surrounded by a team — working together on a project at the same time, for the most part. (I do caution that writing and reporting in the field can be isolating.) One could argue that faculty work together on research projects and at meetings — it is not the same thing, trust me. Tenure-track faculty mostly work alone — and if they are lucky, in a supportive environment. I was lucky at Florida, thankfully. So if you are a team-oriented person — from both a leadership and team player role, you will very likely have to get through tenure first to find time for that oasis.

2. There is no long-term (as in six years), looming deadline in journalism, like tenure. Granted, we are under daily deadlines, but the difference is, for most of us who work inside the newsroom, we leave our work at work. No grading. No planning lessons. No squeezing in time for research. Our off hours are free from a career clock. For me, that means free to teach myself programming, design websites, attend lectures and explore the city — all the things I craved as an assistant professor, but would put off. If you are in the tenure process now, carve out that escape outlet.

3. Instead of teaching others a specialized skill or skills that you previously learned or studied, you are becoming a specialist yourself. Not so much an expert on a topic or research area, which is admirable in its own right, but a technical-thinking skill that you learn backward, forward and sideways and, yes, improve and adapt. It’s the real deal. And you are deep in it.

4. There is no other exciting time to be in journalism, from a technology standpoint, than now. (Although the fear of layoffs does not sit well.). To witness newsrooms transition to mobile, social media and digital-first platforms, and be there on the frontlines of it all, is exactly where agents of change need to be. We are part of history. Not looking in from the outside. Not being critical of the news media 24-7, although I do this quite regularly. But in it. Making decisions that stick or fail.  I get goose bumps just thinking about this.

This post wasn’t written to justify a career change or to disregard research and/or teaching. I still write research on the side, but on my time, and I’ll be returning to teaching on the side this summer for the University of Florida via distance learning. I cannot stay away. These are just observations for those contemplating the move. Being a professor is probably one of the most rewarding careers, and the job flexibility is unbeatable. But you cannot go wrong by choosing to practice journalism, improve your skills and, in the process, better our field. If you then decide to go into teaching, you’ll only be a better teacher for it.

Did this post persuade you at all to make the leap? Or did it do the opposite? Either way, it’s food for conversation.

Why did you leave your dream job teaching at UF?

Why are you moving again?

Someone once told me you never have to give people an explanation for your actions. But I would rather explain in my own words than have others guess or get it wrong.

I’m not done with journalism. It’s my oxygen.

I thrive in a newsroom. I enjoy brainstorming meetings with other journalists. I think about the future of journalism — a lot. And I push myself even harder when I work alongside amazing journalists. This I know about myself.

I want to leave this field — whether that is print newspapers or mobile journalism or something else — having done everything I wanted to do or at least having made my mark. For me, that means improving journalism. And I have a list of ideas.

I want to do all of this at place, like the Times, that values quality, accuracy and strong storytelling.

Florida is my home. Always will be. But I’m not done practicing in my field. It’s truly my passion.

Being a professor and former graduate student, I find myself constantly presenting research. The word “research” is an ugly term to normal people. I say normal, because academics aren’t normal.

I have tried attempts at not using any note cards or PowerPoints in research talks, telling a personal story to the audience, and even playing audio of young adult voices — the demographic I study.

Recently, I was asked to speak about Millennials and their interest (and non-interest) in news and politics. Here are my attempts at trying to engage the audience — with my own hand-drawn sketches, shown above.

The second presentation, shown below, includes drawings by my students. I spoke over all of these slides, of course.

Was it a success? Who knows. But it was my attempt at doing the very thing I preach — engage young people. Find a way to make content meaningful and easier to understand.

So why then do editors, and reporters alike, bust their butts to get scoops on air or in print with information still unknown? The answers: Getting a spike in hits, viewers and sales; beating competition; getting exposure from other news outlets that mention the site, channel or publication; and improving one’s reputation as a new organization. Notice that in all those reasons, not one has to do with the public’s interest.

Don’t get me wrong. I am all for getting a story before competitors, but getting it right with thorough reporting often gets lost in doing so.

Yes, we are in an age of instant news and the value of “time” is more important now than ever. But when did the value of being first outpace being right and thorough? I missed that.

Why am I writing this? I’m tired of watching breaking TV news soundbites that tell me nothing. Please, go back to being right and thorough first. That is what the audience wants. Skeptical? Ask them.

I was met with gasps. “How then will people know what’s going on outside that specialized topic?” one asked. Well, there is always serendipity, which explains how reading news will ultimately lead people to come across other news they had not planned to read. But then I thought:

Specialized journalists already report the news through the lens of their beat. For example, Mashable wrote a piece on ways GOP candidate Rick Santorum can make his name more Google-friendly in search results. If you like tech news but don’t know who Santorum is, you do now. It’s the concept of a story within a story, something reporters have been doing for ages. This style of reporting centers on the idea of reporting on the news that satisfies special interests while including related news everyone should be in-the-know about.

Ever notice that when you brainstorm for ideas your first sentence often starts with “what if …”? It’s such a simple expression that is unbelievably powerful. When spoken, those words can silence a room in anticipation, spark imaginations, start a conversation and, ideally, influence change.

Those two little words excite me.

I Googled the words “what if campaign” and came across the NHL’s “History will be made” ads. The campaign really brings out one’s love for the sport. You can’t help but feel an emotional connection. It screams passion. What if we took our ideas about journalism and had a passionate global conversation (one that didn’t require airfare, hotels or an advanced degree). What if …?

This got me thinking, what if journalists started a campaign focused on ideas for improving journalism, and that campaign started with “what if …” and you would finish the sentence with your idea. This campaign could start as a Facebook page. A Twitter hashtag (#whatifnewsrooms). Journalists around the globe could add their ideas for improving the state of the news media. (Note: As of Jan. 5, 2012, I have since changed this hashtag to be #whatifnews to encompass the content, too.)

I’ll start: What if news orgs got rid of beats? And by that I mean the beat system (not reporters). I wonder if routines can make journalism sometimes predictable in the stories covered.

{ Side note: turns out some newspapers have been doing this, according to colleague Ron Rodgers (@ronrodgers). He shares this link of a study about the Oregonian and its Health and Science beat. Staff stories actually went up. I also read that Gannett is asking readers about “passion topics.” }

Sure, it may start out as this completely impractical wish list. It will probably get snarky sometimes. But over time, we might see the same patterns — the same wants, needs and ideas for change.

Journalists spend their careers empowering people with their words, should not journalists empower each other the same way?

So when it came to this week’s response to our speakers — Heilmann (@codepo8), Javascript programmer John Resig (@jeresig) and Jesse James Garrett (@jjg), I looked for inspiration in what I have been researching for 10 years: How to get more younger audiences (those under 30) interested in following the news.

Like Heilmann, who is committed to making the world love HTML5 as much as him, I am committed to getting more young people plugged in to what is happening in the world around them.

Who is my audience? Millennials — those born between 1982 and 2002. This demographic (whom I’m not a part of) are searchers of news. Many hear about a story, then search for it. Most are not necessarily routine readers of news homepages. Many use “time” as a reason for not tuning in, but in reality, news is not a priority in their life. But when news does enter their lives, I’ve observed, often it’s during conversations with others.

What if news organizations re-examined the way news stories are told and presented to address that social need — to be able to talk about the news. The following chronicles my first two steps at developing this tool based on Resig’s talk:

1. Resig advised us to put ourselves inside our users’ shoes. Even though he was referring to the testing of ideas, I tried out this advice by channeling my inner-Millennial as I read stories online this week. I am saddened to report my experiences: I was frustrated with not fully understanding some stories; I didn’t know how some stories affected me (i.e. raising the  U.S. debt ceiling); and I didn’t have the background of some stories to fully “get them.” With these frustrations, I understand why it is easier to tune out.

2. I brainstormed for a tool that would help users be able to participate in conversations about the news. When users approach a new tool, they often ask “what can it do for me?” Resig said. As a “Millennial” user, I wanted a tool that told me the Top 5 world, national and local stories that I should know about — so that I know what the hell is going on and wouldn’t feel lost. Secondly, the tool would give me background knowledge for conversations. Most importantly, I would know if something was in the news that affected me. Think of it as a personal assistant that would help me meander through information and get to the core essentials of stories that matter.

The tool I plan to present would deliver news stories in essential parts. A journalist would write those parts, and the community would edit them. (More to come.)

In the Knight-Mozilla Learning lab‘s first week, I was introduced to a concept workflow for developing ideas by Aza Raskin (@azaaza), who is an interface designer and a cloud of (good) ideas. It was the first time I’ve had instructional training in developing a concept. This weekend, I tried out his words of wisdom.

The concept I came up with brings together work applications, news sites and social networking tools that users may use the most into one browser window. I call it Mod Deck. Who is my audience? Young people (under 30). This is the age group who tunes out of the news the most. Although I realize other age groups might find it useful. The idea is that users should not have to bounce through sites, applications and windows to get their news, socialize and do work. Mod Deck is one space.

Here was the idea process:

1. Aza humorously warned us that our first idea will likely suck. Well, I’m prepared for that. But I need people (in kind ways) to tell me such. I surround myself with family, friends and colleagues who are polite and encouraging, not so much harsh critics. Our second speaker, Burt Herman (@burtherman) — the brains behind Storify and Hacks/Hackers — encouraged us to surround ourselves with people who will push us. I’m in need of that circle. So please, give me your thoughts below.

2. Aza also advised to try to finish the first artifact in one day. Well, that’s what I did. I actually timed myself. But I won’t put the time here. That’s an (embarrassing) secret.

3. He reiterated in his talk to try not to put too much detail into sketches. That was the easiest step to do.

4. Going through iterations is normal and necessary, Aza says. I noticed that ideas kept coming to me as I continued sketching. Perhaps I piled on too many ideas, a common mistake, he says. I struggled on this step, without any feedback.

5. Prepare to change the problem that you are trying to solve. This is where I am right now. I recognize this is phase one. I can’t wait to see where this idea will be in three weeks; that is if I keep it.

6. Create a video prototype to explain a concept. This was my first video attempt at a prototype. Aza said that an idea isn’t as important as how a person communicates that idea. The video was my way of explaining “Mod Deck.” In it, I applied two major takeaways from Aza’s talk: 1. Ideas try to create behavior in people. And 2. Answer “how does it make life better?”

7. Borrow ideas. That, I certainly did. My inspiration came from: mobile apps; modules available to add to CMS, like WordPress; Google Reader; a cloud-computing video by @jdsutter; my frustrating news and laptop experiences; and observations from watching students multitask.

Would you use Mod Deck? And how can the idea improve?

Today, I could see through this fog of ideas I’ve been in. The simple things around me have come to life and are even brighter for some reason. I’m not sure what this experience means, but I want to bottle it up and hold on to it. Afraid it will go away. But for now, I will just soak in it. It’s exactly what a journalist feels the first time he or she attends Poynter. Alive and recharged. For now, I’ll keep on sketching my ideas. Putting them on paper has brought clarity and joy.