Tag: Columnists

In the final week of my journalism class, I asked my students a simple question: If given what they now know about how social media platforms are designed, should news live there? Almost all of them said no.

When I asked where they actually get their news, almost all of them said social media.

A recent Pew report on young adults and the future of news. U.S. adults under 30 are the least likely to intentionally follow the news and the most likely to get it from social platforms, usually by accident rather than choice. And yet, when you talk to them one-on-one, many will tell you plainly they feel more trapped by those platforms than empowered by them.

We often characterize young people’s news consumption as if they had packed their bags and moved to TikTok in protest against traditional news outlets. The reality is much less intentional. My students are remarkably honest about not actually wanting to spend their lives in these feeds. They are not there because they made a deliberate choice to replace reported news coverage with vertical video. They are there because those platforms are quite literally engineered to keep them there.

Nearly half of U.S. teens now say they are online “almost constantly,” despite ample research about the mental health effects and massive shifts to lessen access and dependence, including phone bans in schools, and even Australia’s recent move to ban social media for those under 16 (a move many of my students largely supported, though with some disagreements about the exact age).

Newsrooms and journalism schools should be honest about the impact and trajectory of designing strategies that tap into the same compulsive systems that many of them feel trapped by. Should we celebrate that a clever explainer finally went viral without asking why we are so comfortable hitching civic information to the same slot machine that is burning through their time, attention, and mental health?

It is unlikely that we will collectively abandon social media. Any journalist or media scholar who insists on that as the solution will lose this generation entirely. But we should focus on the harder and slower process. That is not creating new journalistic content that bolsters news influencer culture or vertical video for the sake of fitting into a feed, but rather collectively dedicating ourselves to news literacy and carrying habits of skepticism, verification, and context into the platforms where people are already immersed.

Ultimately, we have to decide if journalists are educators or communicators. If they are simply communicating information by any means possible to convey the message, they are communicators, and a devotion to vertical video is warranted. But if they are educators, then sharing information by a means that best preserves its fidelity (and that includes consideration of the public’s ability to receive it) becomes paramount. This is perhaps one of the most critical factors in determining the future of journalism.

That work, however, will not feel as immediately rewarding as watching follower counts go up on a newsroom’s TikTok. It will feel, many days, like digging a path with a spoon. My fellow journalism professors likely have more than a few bent spoons in their desk drawers. Still, this is what true literacy requires.

Young adults are the future of news because their habits will decide whether any form of accountable, verifiable reporting still has a place in public life. So when news organizations say we have to “meet people where they are,” we should be honest about what that sometimes means. In this case, it could very well mean building civic information into systems that we are collectively starting to realize are bad for us. And if we keep chasing attention by tapping the vein that keeps us scrolling, we shouldn’t be surprised when they look up and find ourselves in a zombie-like trance, mindlessly salivating and groaning through our daily doomscrolls.

Meanwhile, the industry continues to chase a moving target. In meeting after meeting, we talk about news influencers, vertical video, and “engagement,” as if the only problem is that we haven’t yet cracked the content format that will finally unlock the algorithm. We change our strategy every time a platform tweaks a feature. We design whole campaigns around metrics such as watch time, shares, and followers.

Our pursuit of engagement metrics ultimately leads us down a well-trodden pathway toward civic disengagement. Anecdotally, my students represent those social media audiences who feel overwhelmed, mistrustful, and too exhausted to do anything with what they’ve just consumed.

This is where the whole enterprise starts to feel futile for those of us teaching journalism or trying to practice it locally. We know that trust in news is low, that civic engagement is fraying, and that communities feel unheard. So we build classes and partnerships and local reporting projects to address that. Then we’re faced with the confounding reality that the only way any of it will “reach” people is if we pour it into the same platforms that helped hollow out attention and trust in the first place.

It is not realistic to expect young adults to collectively abandon social platforms. Nor is it responsible to withdraw journalism from spaces that are already saturated with misleading or false information. “Meeting people where they are” still has value. But we should take seriously the fact that many of them are telling us, in different ways, that they do not actually want to stay where they are and that they experience these environments as constraints on their agency rather than expressions of it. The point of a social media company is to keep us on the platform. The point of journalism is to give us enough understanding that we can act in the world off the platform.

That means two things.

First, in classrooms and communities, we need to confront this contradiction. When my students say they get their news exclusively from social media but don’t actually want it to be there, and that they increasingly no longer want to be on these platforms for mental and cognitive health, as a news scholar, I’m inclined to pay attention to what this means in terms of their relationship with information, and knowledge-based journalism, and the fact that they’re less obsessed with where they will be next congregating. Their capacity to congregate at all remains in deep need of repair.

Social platforms are not neutral delivery systems but environments with their own logics and harms. Media literacy cannot stop at “how to fact-check a post.” It has to include the ability to recognize when an environment is degrading one’s own capacity to think clearly and when novelty and outrage are eroding the skills we claim to value in “informed citizens.” In my classroom, this has meant asking students not only where they get news but also how those spaces make it easier or harder to do the intellectual work necessary to function within society.

Second, newsrooms and educators need permission to stop chasing every metric that platforms dangle in front of us. Judge our work by whether it deepens understanding, strengthens local connection, and leads to real-world engagement, not just “engagement” that registers as a like or follow. If we say that our goal is to support informed participation in public life, we must be willing to judge our work by outcomes beyond platform metrics and to routinely assess whether people feel more capable of following an issue or can distinguish between assertion and evidence.

This matters for all of us, within the journalism industry and beyond, because the skills we ask of ourselves and the conditions we impose on ourselves are increasingly misaligned. To navigate public life, we need to be able to sustain attention, weigh evidence, follow a complex story over time, and tolerate ambiguity. The digital places we “live” in, increasingly and overwhelmingly, incentivize almost the opposite. Addressing this is a collective responsibility.

Wafa Unus is an associate professor of journalism at Fitchburg State University.

Whatever sniffles and coughs come our way, Lord knows it’s not as bad as some of the deadly bugs that have plagued humanity since time immemorial, such as smallpox. Speaking of which, did you know there is a local hero in North Worcester County who probably saved hundreds of lives from this dread disease?

Among the events worth celebrating in our country’s 250th year will be a local hero: Dr. Thaddeus Maccarty, Fitchburg’s first physician. This brave soul was appalled by the death toll of small pox — but intrigued by what was called “the Sutton method.” This practice meant inoculating the patient with the disease, and Dr. Maccarty travelled to a Great Barrington hospital and presented himself as both patient and doctor.

He survived the disease, and returned to Fitchburg. There, a fearful populace was ready to tar and feather the young clinician, but fortunately, Dr. MacCarty was able to meet with Deacon Ebenezer Goodridge, a member of the “Committee of Safety.” According to Doris Kirkpatrick’s masterful “The City and the River,” because of MacCarty’s ability to explain the brand new idea of inoculation, and his “open and fearless frankness the doctor succeeded in quieting the Deacon’s suspicion and avoided a coat of tar.”

By August 15, 1776, Fitchburg built a hospital for the care of people suffering from small pox and this hospital continued for several years and built a strong reputation. More than 800 residents from all the area towns came to the hospital where they were charged one pound, one shilling, or 10 days labor, or 10 bushels of corn for treatment.

This was a hospital with security — there was a guard at the gate who made sure no one entered without paying, and no one left without a “certificate of cleanliness.” The full treatment ended with the patient receiving a bath in a solution of rum and vinegar.

‘There’s a cure for that’

For most of human history, getting from zero to age two was a struggle, but it was only until 1802, and the Paris-based Hôpital des Enfants Malades, was there a hospital designed exclusively for children. The Brits soon followed suit, and the famous Great Ormond Street Hospital opened in London in 1855, the same year as Philadelphia’s “Children’s Hospital” opened in the US, the first in our country to do so.

Children’s hospitals emerged out of volunteers’ efforts and were independent from other hospitals. If you were a member of the “undeserving poor,” you’d end up in a workhouse infirmary. Locally, Fitchburg’s beloved Burbank Hospital opened in 1901 with 16 beds atop Prospect Hill in the site known as Nichols Farm. By 1912, there was a children’s ward on-site. The tradition for hospitals treating children was to admit those with short-term, rather than long-term illness, for fear of contagion. Records do not reveal ingredients or medicines used for children at the hospital. However, during the late 19th century, the patent-medicine world was forever expanding.

A particularly noxious product became infamous: “Mrs. Winslow’s Soothing Syrup.” Touted as a medicine to help soothe an infant during teething pain, the bottle contained alcohol and morphine (unlabelled) and caused many infant deaths. The Prohibitionists took up these “medicines” and public protest created a fertile ground for legislation.

Local suggestions

Family Recipe Box put out the call across North Worcester County and the suggestions poured in: hint, if you don’t have lemons and honey in your pantry, consider yourself understocked.

For sore throats: Several readers suggested: gargle frequently with salt water, as much salt as you can stand, as hot as you can stand.

For ear aches: From Leominster, Donna Dap suggested “Put on a hat — your body heat is soothing,” while Rachel Rhada swears by putting garlic oil in your ears as it  “works every time!”

For random ailments: Cramps — a heating pad, or soaking towels in hot water and laying over abdomen. Rachel Armington suggests: “for headaches or eyestrain: a few drops of peppermint oil on a folded tea towel that’s been run under warm/hot water and wrung damp. Just hold over the area until the towel cools.”

For “the bug that’s going around”: Barb Boraski Vosburgh of Fitchburg urges all readers to consume “homemade chicken soup. My grandma, my mom, me, and now my daughter believes it is the best for colds, flu, etc.”

Bring on the honey

Rum has been the basis for curatives for centuries (and not just bathing in it). So has honey. But it’s the exotic spices that draw interest in the world of Ayurvedic and Holistic healing. Finally, after two weeks, I became higher functioning after the “back to school bug.” And so I decided to crank up my anti-oxidant and Vitamin C game. Couldn’t hurt, right?

I did some experimenting, and came up with the following — this recipe makes enough to last in the fridge for about a week  — and I’ve been drinking this every day for the past two weeks. And washing my hands — a lot!

G & T Shot

INGREDIENTS:

2 tsp ground ginger powder

2 tsp ground turmeric powder

1 tsp Fresh ground black pepper

1/3 cup honey

Juice of one lemon

DIRECTIONS:

Put a couple teaspoons of honey into your storage jar (I like a one-cup jam jar). Mix in your spices until you have a thick syrup. Add the lemon juice and honey, mix thoroughly. It’s really thick, and I used a small milk-frother. Store in the refrigerator, add 2 teaspoons of syrup into a cup, and pour in water that’s hot, but not hot enough for tea. This brings out the aroma. You can drink this hot, or let it cool.

Notes: I like to make the Shot hot, but then let it cool in an Atlas jar, and then put the lid on and refrigerate. When it’s cold, shake it up vigorously — that’s your “G & T Shot.” Happy healing!

Sally Cragin would love to read your family recipes and stories. Write to: sallycragin@gmail.com

Harvest season is underway, and if we’re not eating more healthy food right now, lord knows how we’ll fare in February and its cavalcade of mealy citrus and wilted greens. I’ve written about salads in previous columns, but this week’s Family Recipe Box takes a strategic view towards that collation which can range from iceberg minimal to smorgasbordian.

The “Salad Bar” was an innovation of the 1970s and an offshoot of the “back to the land” movement. As women entered the workforce during the second wave of feminism, restaurant owners hit upon a dining opportunity to attract them: the bistro featuring a “light lunch.” Whether it was crepes (remember The Magic Pan in Boston?) soups or salads, restaurants for mid-day weekday dining began to expand from the classic steakhouse model (two martinis, french fries and steak flopping over the platter).

Decades ago, there was a delightful chain called “Souper Salad” in the greater Boston area. I used to go to the restaurant in Harvard Square. The central attraction was a 30-foot long banquet table with dozens of bowls of greens, veggies, fruits and fixings.

Coming to the big city from little old Lunenburg and beholding this masterpiece was mind-boggling. The centerpiece of salad bars back home was an aluminum platter of chopped up iceberg lettuce, rough cut cucumbers with the skins left on, and fridge-stiff tomatoes alongside beakers of Italian and Roquefort dressing.

The Souper Salad presentation had many items I’d never seen before such as chickpeas, and varieties of lettuce. So many colors of pepper — diced red cabbage, and tiny florets of broccoli, plus add-ons like hard-boiled eggs and bacon bits. This is the era when “macrobiotic” was an extreme form of vegetarianism, and the health benefits of brown rice versus white rice were starting to be discussed.

What I loved about Souper Salad (which was not cheap, by the way) was that all the salad components were washed, peeled, chopped, and ready to be combined. It’s very satisfying to contemplate a colorful array of raw vegetables that need only to be scooped into a bowl. But that’s always 20 minutes — or longer — after the time one gets the urge for a salad.

A little work, a lot of sides

Thus, Family Recipe Box presents the “Three Day Salad,” where you do all the work, but get at least a couple of meals, or a few days worth of sides. The trick is making the salad for a container of a specific size — and remembering to eat your salad on sequential days, so it doesn’t sulk in the fridge and turn brown.

We like the 1.5-quart rectangular glass boxes with snap-plastic lids which can be found at Ocean State Job Lot for under $10. These will keep your salad crispy, and reduce the amount of plastic involved in meal preparation.

Speaking of plastic — are you as anxious about the unseen and deadly world of nano-plastics as I am? For those just tuning in, news about the detrimental effects of nano-plastics has been going on for a few years. In 2024, National Institute of Health reported that “Researchers developed an imaging technique that detected thousands of tiny bits of plastic in common single-use bottles of water.”

The study continued to explain that “plastics are a part of our everyday lives, and plastic pollution is a growing concern. When plastics break down over time, they can form smaller particles called microplastics, which are 5 mm or less in length — smaller than a sesame seed. Microplastics, in turn, can break down into even smaller pieces called nanoplastics, which are less than 1 μm in size. Unable to be seen with the naked eye, these are small enough to enter the body’s cells and tissues.”

Now if that isn’t plot fodder for a Stephen King novel, I don’t know what is. What’s more ghastly is that the nanoplastics can apparently migrate throughout the organs, blood, and body, and can cross the blood/brain and placental barriers.

So last year, I reviewed the worn collection of faux-Tupperware in the larder, and a dinged-up collection of water-bottles and purchased some small thick-walled glass bottles and snap-top glass containers. These may weigh a little more, but not as heavily as nanoplastics weigh on my mind.

Three-Day Salad for 1.5 quart container

INGREDIENTS:

6 leaves Romaine

2 plum tomatoes

Half a cucumber

radishes

peppers

hard-boiled egg diced

toasted walnuts

1/4 cup Craisins

diced orange

ripe avocado

DIRECTIONS:

Wash your greens, and slice cucumbers and radishes into half-circles. Put together, and take out 1/3 for the salad you are eating right now.

Notes: If you are adding avocado, make sure you eat it on the first day. The philosophy of the three-day salad is that you do not need to make a salad on the second and third day because you have a salad. And by the fourth day, you’re probably ready to have cooked vegetables with your meal.

One helpful household hint

When you are making a salad, whether a “Three Day” or other variety, tear, rather than slice your greens. They will not go brown as quickly.

Sally Cragin would love to read your family recipes and stories. Write to: sallycragin@gmail.com

As a journalism professor, I spend a lot of time talking to the future generation about local news. Sometimes, it’s exciting and motivating. But there are those days when it feels like I’m just not able to make the connection. The cognitive biases appear to be too ingrained to overcome. I can’t help but feel a little defeated in those moments, as though I’ve failed to make a meaningful connection or build enough trust to get them to rethink using social media as their only source of information. I catch the glazed-over look that says, “We know. And now what?”

It’s easy to push forward with the lesson plan and move on to the loss of civic engagement that follows the local news, or examine data on media ownership, but that rarely does any good. In those moments when we look at each other in a quiet resolve, I try to take a step back and truly listen to what they have to say.

Sometimes, no lecture can do as much good as understanding the root of their disengagement. And, in all truth, for local journalism, there’s little that’s more important than understanding what motivates the next generation to engage.

All that to say, I want to take a moment to do the same thing with this column. I’ve been doing a lot of talking, and it’s about that time for me to turn off my PowerPoint presentation, move away from the podium, and sit down for a real conversation.

Local news isn’t just a product to consume. Done right, local coverage connects neighbors and fosters a sense of community. But that only works if we’re building coverage around real questions people have, not guesses about what might interest them, or worse, what is profitable.

So, I want to know what challenges you about local news and what you feel it does right. What do you wish there was more coverage of? What do you want to learn about your city that you can’t find easily? What is missing, and what do you cherish?

If you stopped regularly engaging with local news, tell me what pushed you away. If you are a regular reader, please let me know what keeps you coming back.

In part, this is for my own edification. I like to know who I’m talking to and what they are about. But I also think this is an important media literacy exercise for us all – to reflect on why we engage in certain things and why we don’t. And sharing our concerns with each other, instead of screaming them into the ether, might challenge our cognitive biases and perhaps lead to solutions.

I will read your responses and explore ways in which I can improve my approach in my roles as a journalism scholar and educator, as well as my work as a partner to local news organizations. I will also unpack some of your concerns here, in this column, in the hope of sparking a broader conversation.

Help me start it.

Share your thoughts and concerns about local news. Send a short note with the subject line “Behind the Bylines: Feedback” to wunus@fitchburgstate.edu