This entry initially appeared on the Telling the Story blog last year. I rewrote and expanded it for 2018, and a version will appear in the next edition of News Photographer magazine.
My first experience at a journalism workshop was, well, not good.
I was a new college graduate, looking for my first job in TV. I had won a national college radio award and was invited to accept it in Las Vegas, at a side convention connected with the enormous NAB Show. At the time I didn’t drink, didn’t gamble, and didn’t dip into the types of nightlife and debauchery for which Vegas is most known. So I ate at a few buffets, caught a concert by a Beatles tribute band, spent ten minutes accepting my award, and meandered around NAB Show unable to access anything of value.
I didn’t need to see the latest camera lenses and production trucks. I needed a job. I wasn’t going to find one here. I left unimpressed with the workshop experience. For the next eleven years, I never considered attending another.
That was a mistake.
These days I sound the clarion for workshops. When I get asked to speak, I rarely turn them down. When I don’t get asked to speak, I sometimes go anyway and always encourage others to join. Why? I love the passion and enthusiasm that always emerge.
Rarely does our business make time for education. We are expected to learn on the fly and develop our skills while making all of our deadlines in the daily crunch. This is not unreasonable; in fact, I have always found I learn more by doing than watching.
Maybe that’s why I once balked at workshops. Yes, my Vegas experience left a stain, but my entry-level bank account didn’t compel me to drop hundreds of dollars (and valuable vacation days) to listen to a few people who I wasn’t sure I’d value anyway. I prized my own independence and unique viewpoint as a storyteller. I didn’t want to learn how to tell stories like everyone else.
I don’t deny any of these reasons. And as a new father who now funnels much of my money and spare time toward my daughter, I remain stingy and selective with my workshop dollar. I also still prefer to learn by doing.
But I find great value in watching. And I realized that value eleven years after Vegas, when I finally dipped again into workshop waters.
I didn’t seek it out. I was invited in 2014 to speak about solo video journalism at the Ignite Your Passion workshop in the Twin Cities. I hadn’t presented before, and I was honored by the request. I spent weeks preparing my PowerPoint, choosing which stories I’d show, and rehearsing a few warm-up jokes to fire up the crowd. (They were hit-and-miss.) I still remember vivid details from my presentation, but I also remember what followed. I stuck around for a keynote speech from the legendary KARE-TV storytelling team of reporter Boyd Huppert and photojournalist Jonathan Malat. They described the execution of one of their most powerful stories: a piece about death, love, and regret involving towing trailers.
I left the Twin Cities with an immediate burst of motivation. I wanted my work to be that complete and rich. I wanted it to shine at the next level. And I receive that same jolt at virtually every workshop I attend.
These days I receive frequent chances to speak at workshops and conferences large and small. I have been amazed by the variety. Last spring I was asked to discuss storytelling at the Alaska Press Club’s annual conference – an event that never would have appeared on my Atlanta-based radar. I was the rare TV speaker, but I sponged off of the rest. I heard Washington Post reporter Jenna Johnson describe covering the 2016 Presidential election. I listened to guitarist Fabi Reyna detail her experiences as editor-in-chief of a magazine called She Shreds. And I discussed craft, ethics, and issues with a slew of passionate storytellers from our 49th state. Now I recommend it to everyone who wants a truly transformative journalistic experience (and who needs an excuse to visit one of the most stunning spots on earth).
And that’s the big sell. I wrote in my book, The Solo Video Journalist, about the importance of thinking big. We are given so many incentives to focus on the day-to-day instead of our bigger dreams. Workshops remind us to expand our ambition – and surround ourselves with journalists who have a similar outlook.
In 2016, thirteen years after I dismissed the idea of attending workshops, I decided to host one. My friend John Kirtley approached me about co-directing an NPPA storytelling workshop for the Southeast, and I jumped at the chance. That weekend remains a career highlight. When I wasn’t running around handling logistics, I stood in the back and swelled with pride over what I saw. Attendees’ eyes widened over the stories they watched. Younger storytellers connected and planted the seeds of collaboration.
It crystallized how my two days in Vegas had given me the wrong impression. There I felt isolated and aimless. Here I saw passion and ambition. This, I thought, is how a workshop should feel. And it’s almost always how I feel when I attend one today.
The Solo Video Journalist is available for purchase. You can find it on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and the publisher’s web site.
Matt Pearl is the author of the Telling the Story blog and podcast. Feel free to comment below or e-mail Matt at matt@tellingthestoryblog.com. You can also follow Matt on Facebook and Twitter.