So what did Rogers do wrong, again? Simple. He called Dahlander.
People who are not editors of magazines cannot call Dahlander. Well, they can call, and Dahlander is a very civil person who would take the call, I'm sure. But they can't make the call, the media call, the kind of call that sets off alarm bells at DISD headquarters.
D Magazine
D Magazine editor Tim Rogers finds himself in a bit of a journalistic pickle after he reportedly phoned DISD to ask for help getting his child into a special preschool program for needy kids.
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If some other parent calls Dahlander—no alarm bells. Tim Rogers calls—alarm bells. It's that simple. I talked to Rogers. He said my spin on his call to Dahlander is exactly wrong: "I consider him a friend. When I send him an e-mail saying I am considering bailing on Hexter, he very well knows that is not a threat."
And there you have it. I consider Dahlander as someone I would love to have as a friend, were I not a reporter.
Well, according to the story and the DISD report, Rogers said repeatedly that he didn't want any special favors. Doesn't that count?
C'mon, kid. Every little chance you get, try to sharpen up. That's what you say. Of course you say that. It's ass-covering. Of course you say, "Now, I don't want any special treatment." Well, if you don't want any special treatment, why did you call the head of media relations?
You know what your call means. Dahlander knows what it means. You know he knows. He knows you know he knows.
Dahlander is a smart guy. He will do what he thinks is the best thing for the district. It doesn't matter what Rogers said when he called. It's the call that matters. A call from a pissed-off representative of the media means that a negative story could ensue, somewhere down the road. That's just what it means.
Hey. Wait. I see a look on your face. You sort of think the power of all this is cool. Wow. Can't get my kid in the school? Make one call. Talk marble-mouthed, like Marlon Brando in The Godfather. People jump.
Oh, I need to issue you a big caution on that one. People out there think we are the media, you and I. But you and I need to know the truth. We are not the media. We work for the media. Big difference. The media are the people who own the media.
Yes, the media have power. But the people who own the media want that power to be used for the media—their companies. The proper use of the power of the media is for building bigger audiences, better credibility, more clicks, more readers, more advertising sales and, yes, Dear Baby Journalist, more money for the media. It's a business, like a bank.
If you were a teller in a bank, you would know that all the money in your drawer is not for your kid's tuition. Neither is the power of the media for you to use to get your kid into a certain school.
Why not? What's the harm? Oh, Baby. Let's go back to zero. You remember what I told you about the people who hate your guts? That may be too strong. Maybe they don't hate you. Maybe they just think you get away with a little too much. Maybe they just have a good old American taste for seeing arrogant people get their comeuppance.
Do not call the same people you beat up on all the time and ask them for an under-the-table favor. Promise me you get that.
Forget journalistic ethics. I don't even know if they had that when I started. I think it's something new. This is about not being a chump.
Don't do it. Do not make that call. Put the phone down now! That call is going to bite you in the ass. If I were talking to the older generation of journalists, I might put it like this: Your first night in prison, do not ask the hairy muscled-up guy with the tattoos on his face for a pack of cigarettes. You do not even want to know what those cigarettes are going to cost you.
But you are of a different generation of journalist—better educated, more traveled and sophisticated than I, more like Tim Rogers—and I need to find a better metaphor, closer to your experience.
Remember that guy who wanted into your fraternity so badly, and you all got him pissed drunk and painted bad words on his chest with a Magic Marker and put pictures of him on Facebook, and then you didn't pledge him after all? Later on, would you have trusted that guy to help you cheat on a final?
Ah. Great. I see a look of comprehension dawning. That would make me so happy. I just don't want you to have to learn this lesson the hard way. Like Tim just did.