Tag: Opinion

Something has shifted in my classroom. Students are no longer cynical about journalism. They are critical, curious, and ready to ask more of the press rather than abandon it. This is no small change. In the years following COVID, cynicism and disengagement were prevalent. It was understandable, but it marked the end of many conversations before they even began. Cynicism assumes nothing can change. Critics believe change is possible and ask how we get there. I welcome now a room full of critics.

The tone of our discussions has changed. My students still question the press, as they should, but the posture feels different. When I ask who trusts the news, more than half of the hands go up. That number used to be almost none. The rest hover in the in-between: sometimes, but not always, and only under certain circumstances. Their questioning no longer stems from a sense of disillusionment. It comes from rightful indignation. They want to push on ideas. They want to debate and to think. The level and consistency of discourse in the room are striking.

This is not a generation that wants to look away. It is a generation that is searching and beginning to ask why the answers are so hard to find.

Many of them are frank about what phones and platforms have taken from them. Their time. Their attention. In some cases, their mental health. The habit formed before they were making conscious choices for themselves, and now it feels inescapable. Scrolling leaves them detached from their work, their friends, even the place they live. It is hours of disengagement under the guise of connection. Fatigue so easily turns into cynicism.

I lean into these conversations partly to let students interrogate their own habits and expectations, but also because their perspectives matter. What they are telling me is not just a confession, it is a blueprint. Their behavior, frustration, and motivation are key components in determining how journalism will succeed or fail in the future.

So I confront it directly. I print articles and pass them around. I assign features that require twenty minutes of uninterrupted attention. I put physical reading material in their hands. The results are telling. Students call the experience intentional. Some describe it as peaceful. Others say they value engaging with content that is not immediately drowned in commentary. Without the constant noise, they can think. And it is increasingly clear that they want to think.

For years, I watched waves of dismissal in the classroom. The same hits played on repeat. “The press is broken.” “Everyone is biased.” “Why care?” That sentiment still appears, but it’s shifting. Students are not ignoring the flaws of journalism. They can name them clearly. What is different now is their willingness to ask themselves why they do not engage more, even though they agree that they should. They are beginning to envision their own role in upholding the constitutional right to a free press.

That is an opening.

Local news should pay attention. Local stories do what national ones can never. They still have the power to create a shared reality. My students want that kind of journalism. They want to belong to something larger than their own feed and want to feel grounded in a shared reality. They want to be seen, and to see each other, outside of platforms that they increasingly recognize as damaging.

I have witnessed the impact of building intentional connections between students and local news. Through news–academic partnerships, my students have covered council meetings, budgets, and neighborhood debates. At first, these are assignments. Quickly, they become something more. Students who will never set foot in a newsroom still walk away with a sense of contribution and a sense of place. Their reporting makes them feel part of the community, and they start to feel invested in the decision-making and discourse. That is the power of local journalism. It’s not just in its product, but also in the process.

This generation is beginning to reckon with what social media has done to their attention and to their reality, and they are vocal about it. They appreciate the non-digital. They want a printed page when the subject deserves it. They want a format that respects their time rather than exploits it.

If journalism offers community, and it does, then these students are a path back to it. Local outlets can open doors to student reporting. The benefit is mutual. Local papers get additional support and hands-on deck, and students begin to understand why freedom of the press belongs to all of them.

These students are ready. They are asking for journalism that fosters a shared life rather than a shared argument. They are asking for formats that invite attention instead of scattering it. Perhaps this is the moment for local journalism to do what social media promised and failed to deliver: create a sense of community that fosters both growth and discourse.

This is not just a classroom lesson. It is a call. If local journalism steps forward to meet this generation, it will not just find its next reporters. It will find its next readers, its next advocates, its next community. The kids are alright. And they might be the ones who help make journalism alright again, too.

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