This morning, I felt inspired to spend some time before church perusing archived library materials and found an old (and, incidentally, enormous) 1903 Ladies Home Journal featuring several beautiful articles.

One, by a very young Helen Keller, detailed the author’s aspirations for post-college life and was poignant, for me, in the way it articulated a marginalized professional’s feelings of worry she may not fulfill her purpose before encouraging herself, and audience, of the possibility of adversity-turned-advantage. “There is no grief deeper,” she wrote, “than the consciousness that we are isolated, no ache of heart harder to bear than the thought that our fellows are crying in the darkness, and we are so fettered that we may not go to them. This is separation from the social order into which we are born, the agony of thwarted forces, a death in the midst of life. But I have discovered that the material with which we work is everywhere and in abundance. I have felt the joy of the strong man who grasps the reins in his hands and drives the forces that would master him. Our worst foes are not belligerent circumstances, but wavering spirits.”

Of course, separation from the social order into which we are born can be a good thing for the way such hardship can steer every one of us to lift others up in the pursuit of restoration and progress. Such an, arguably widespread, feeling of unfulfilled potential is one reason I feel the sham of ratings-based, passive media consumption as a permanent fixture of America’s communication infrastructure needs to be addressed. Passive media consumption, of course, is no indication of approval or even real support as people hate-watch at least as much as they passively engage as a means of expressing heartfelt support, especially when programming is designed to trigger addictive feelings of rage, hyper-sensuality, or, perhaps especially, fear. And, to me at least, it still feels difficult not to see Hollywood women’s cooptation several years ago of the women’s movement in corporate journalism, which was not their movement, as having culminated, not in the award of massive personal wealth in thanks for having given voice to the voiceless but, rather, the offer and acceptance of a massive amount of what could more accurately be termed hush money for preventing individual women from speaking and proposing solutions.

But, what is to be done in the absence of such advocacy? Even today, the paradox continues to seem to be that almost the only way to be heard about critiques of corporate media is to be supported by a big voice. But those with big voices tend to have obtained these by benefiting from the current big media business model and are, therefore, the very most susceptible to corporate dissuasion from interrupting the status quo.

On Parallels

Often, comparisons of modern media seems to the old role of the ancient Roman colosseum feel fitting. And, while, in several important ways, today’s programming is colosseum-like, as appalling as the ancient format certainly was – keeping citizens continually triggered, placated, and disconnected from opportunities to engage more meaningfully – there are significant distinctions. The Roman colosseum’s harms were, for one thing, arguably much more avoidable and less pervasive, given that citizens could, at least in theory, simply not attend if they so chose. And the grotesque battles enacted were limited to the amphitheater itself – not actual, nation state-scale wars encouraged and then broadcast directly into every individual’s home – not only interlaced with, but actually becoming, essential knowledge for the now partly-informed but increasingly disempowered citizen. But neither method of grabbing and holding citizens’ attention would be needed if such were engaged in more actively participating in fulfilling the role of citizen, having been invited to contribute ideas, skills, and informed views in a system within which no one would need to be sacrificed.

And Convergence

I also had the pleasure of reading through an old, 1937 German church periodical and, in particular an article urging readers to avoid uttering problems aloud (I was by no means looking for a publication specific to that country; this one just happened to be sitting where I was browsing). And, while I certainly agree with the applicability of the piece’s message (not to indicate a belief that anyone, of course, is seeking my agreement) and even felt its wisdom resonate with my heart inwardly, I also found it hard not to register the significance of its publication date as a reminder that, while perhaps rare, there still do seem to be times when saying something is needed.

The question, of course, is how to determine when. I’ve been told by a member of this same church before how important it is never to read even scripture alone, as he put it, meaning that it is wise to try to engage with one’s intuition and understanding of spiritual guidance in discerning what ideas and messages should perhaps be emphasized most at a given time. Always read the Bible with God was the way I believe he put it (by not means to imply I have always done this well).

While, on the one hand, as occurred just this weekend, I’ve had the experience of feeling strongly it would be unwise to voice a concern aloud about something before feeling inspired to communicate voicelessly in another way that turned out, I believe, to be much more healing and effective, other times, I have felt what I consider to be an unmistakable sense of guidance that saying something in a particular moment was the right thing to do. And I have felt such a sense about the women’s movement in corporate journalism, including the proposed solutions it featured, even though others urged silence.

On Turning Points

Lately, when running up and down a particularly hilly trail, I’ve pondered how many layers of geological history can be intimated where eras of rock, once oriented atop on another have been turned on their sides in mountain formation. And this has felt worth remembering in light of another archived publication stored with the ones mentioned already. Leafing through a less old, anniversary-edition newspaper, which offered a look back over changes observed in pop culture, among other topics, over 90 years, I noted a retrospective on mass media itself. In addition to a general degradation observed in the quality of media consumed over time was a shift noted toward mass, shared experiences, largely accomplished through broadcast; and, considering this, it was hard not to feel at least as encouraged as I did disheartened. This is as I continue to believe that the success of so many mass media corporations and conglomerates today in centralizing attention for what have tended to be (but, as mentioned before, I strongly believe the past several years have proven that, under pressure, this can and will continue to change) harmful purposes, could, through one seismic shift, be turned on its side, allowing all the layers of hidden work so many women and others have invested over years to not only be revealed but utilized. How could this be done very easily were corporations less inclined to merge and conglomerate?

Sometimes it just does feel to me like so much of the concentrated corruption that seems so intimidating and appears to be affecting so many could actually be dissipated in a moment – like the splash of cold water the end of Wizard of Oz – with the opening of a discussion of publicly-traded corporate journalism business models and, with it, a door to a totally new future.

If a helpful definition of a corporation has historically been an entity that exists to prevent the communication of accurate information – a virus-like country within a country where insider information is factory farmed through the systematic perpetration and over-up of abuses of the host country’s values and norms, I still wonder whether a corporation can ever really even be a journalism organization. The phrase “journalism corporation,” or, “news corporation,” would be an oxymoron.

Still, while I used to believe the publicly-traded corporation model needed to be jettisoned, ultimately, for the good of the country, and I still do wonder whether this is the case – I feel more hopeful today, after the past several years of what could be termed forced corporate social justice activism once these organizations’ ability to issue stock at all was on the line, that, rather than needing to be extirpated, their tendencies may, instead, be able to be harnessed. Like “healthy” gut bacteria, publicly-traded corporations held to account for the degree to which they uphold foundational values of equal opportunity and freedom are massive assets to the country and, so long as they can be held in check and continually pushed to do better by journalism organizations that are not publicly-traded, these can and should be celebrated for the value they add.

We are off to a good start, I believe many would agree. And many media organizations have made significant changes in recent years which should be appreciated. But I don’t think they can simply prevent consideration of all solutions proposed during the women’s movement in corporate journalism by publishing a 1619 Project, suppressing all journalism unsupportive of the idea that rule by media corporations is the solution to all of America’s problems and suddenly be the permanent, proud owners of their very own country without any pushback whatsoever. The fault line dividing both the democratic and republican parties, after all, continues to be an increasingly conspicuous division separating those who are vested in the hoax of an unaccountable stock market economy and those who are not. And I continue to believe that it is in talking about the extant matter of journalism organizations’ funding mechanisms that an enormous share of the remainder of country’s problems may actually be able to be solved quickly and easily.

It was another beautiful day for a run, anyway, and while all the rest of these matters are worked out, I felt especially inspired to appreciate the beauty of the numerous conspicuous mica deposits I get to enjoy (and that usually end up all over my sneakers) practically every day; and it’s been heartening to ponder how these wondrously sparkling features are, themselves, forged under pressure. (It also didn’t occur to me until after writing that, it may be worth taking further comfort in the Wizard of Oz tale and its empowering message that everyone has within herself the power to realize meaningful and restorative progress.)