Michelle gets a chill in D.C.

Michelle Devera Louie filed this dispatch from the National Labor College in Silver Spring, Maryland, where she attended the Guild's New Local Officers Seminar.

On Saturday night, my nameless cohort, our St. Louis colleague and I tagged along with the Canadian contingent as they toured the sights of our nation's capital -- National Mall, Washington Monument, Jefferson Memorial, Vietnam Wall, Lincoln Memorial -- some I had seen before, some I hadn't.

They are impressively beautiful, but even though all I had done all day was sit in a conference room, I was pretty beat. The topics were heavy (Guild communications, organizing drives, collective bargaining and human rights and equity), and I already felt overwhelmed and terrified of the responsibility at hand. Plus, it was frost-bite cold and I'm a Southern Cali kinda gal; anything below 50 is f-r-e-e-z-i-n-g. Did I mention that we had the great pleasure of trailing three busloads of high school students? Like, OMG, how annoying!

My Canadian sisters marveled at the grandeur, at our founding fathers' words of promise, at the dreams for a newly born nation. It was awe inspiring.

This was America in a pure state -- its ideals intact, its virtue untainted, its intent uncompromised.

When we descended the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, it couldn't have been more perfect-perfect: As snow swirled about, a Marine in full dress blues got down on one knee and proposed to the beautiful lady at his side. A crowd surged around them, asking for his autograph, stealing glances at her ring.

It was no doubt a very happy scene. But, it was also a very sad scene. Everyone knew that a too young, too brave, too honorable man would soon go to war. It was too much to bear.

Why bother, right?

Because.

Because even if you can feel the caress of death in everything you do, even if you know that your duty called you to knock upon death's door, if you have something to live for, you are willing to make that sacrifice.

It's called hope. And in the name of hope, we are willing to do extraordinary things. Because without hope, we have nothing.

I have hope.

Guild or gruel

(Michelle Devera Louie is at the National Labor College in Silver Spring, Maryland, for the New Local Officers Seminar. She's blogging about her experience from the land of labor and blue crab. This is her first dispatch.)

As you can see from the sun beating at my back, it's sunny and snowy in Silver Spring, Maryland, and I'm waiting in my room for the party to begin. The weather's not why I'm here though (same goes my cohort who, for now, shall remain nameless).

I'm here because the good people at The Newspaper Guild think I should be. But should I? Do I deserve to be here? My beloved co-workers on the features copy desk already have so much to do and no time to do it, and having one person down is as painful as having teeny-tiny razor blades playfully dragged across your skin while chewing on glass. It continually hurts but, after a while, you get used to it.

That's exactly why I'm here. No one should have to get used to it.

Enough is enough. I cannot stand by and watch quality sacrificed for quantity in the name of "journalism" as my brethren suffer and fatten someone else's wallet. That's not the journalism I practice. That's not the truth, freedom or democracy of my birthright. Someone once told me that we should all be thankful to still have jobs. Please. I'd rather read Dickens than have some higher-up dish it out to me, thank you.

They may serve us gruel but it doesn't mean we have to eat it.

(Editor's note: I'm assured that the food at the National Labor College rates significantly better than gruel. Stay tuned for more dispatches from Michelle...)

Vacation from the valley

In keeping with my New Years goal (don't call it a resolution) of getting more voices on this blog, here are some thoughts from our brothers and sisters in the Central Valley branch of the McClatchy Empire, which was once the proud mainstay of a prosperous newspaper chain. (Full disclosure: I am a proud alumnus of the Modesto branch of the empire's Bee newspapers, and a not-so-proud owner of McClatchy stock):

As McClatchy stock hovers around $11 a share (a couple of years ago it was well north of $60), memoranda urging everyone to cut costs are threatening to choke the e-mail servers. So Worker Bees are wondering why McClatchy execs are choosing to hold their annual editors and publishers conference in sunny San Diego, a city in which McClatchy doesn't even own a newspaper. (At least not yet).

One can only speculate why the meeting is being held in America's Finest City, as S.D. bills itself, instead of at McClatchy Central in California's State Capital. Is it because sunshine is more conducive to corporate profits than tule fog? Because San Diego has a better zoo? Because San Diego's trolley goes to Tijuana (publisher body shots!) while Sacramento's goes to Folsom? (Insert appropriate cliche about inquiring minds here).

Note: Anyone other members with blog items/tips/ledes, send 'em my way: CTUAN@aol.com and I'll compile and post them or, if you prefer, post them as you've written (with some editing, of course.) and give you credit.