The Street Witness

You see so much more when you ride a bicycle. And as more of us ride, the more will be seen.

More “eyes on the street” can make a difference in small ways.

Today, for instance, I was pedaling through Hillsdale on my way home from working out at the Southwest Community Center. A thin, slightly disheveled forty-ish fellow was standing alone at the bus stop in front of Papa John’s pizza.

As I approached him, a patrol car cruised by, and the guy at the bus stop inexplicably flipped off the two officers in the car, a man and a woman. They noticed and decided they weren’t about to let the obscenity pass, so they pulled into the parking lot and circled back to the guy at the stop.

At this point I figured someone might need a witness, so I decided to wait for the bus at the stop.

The male officer was the driver, who, on extracting himself from the squad car, turned out to be formidably large and rotund. His partner was half his size.

He did the talking to the thin man.

“Were you signaling us for something?” said the officer, glancing up to see me watching in the background.

“No, I was just waving at someone across the street,” lied the rumpled man.

“Oh, we thought we saw you making an obscene gesture our way,” said the officer.

“Nope, I was just waving.”

“Let’s hope so. Well, okay, then have a good day.”

And with that the officers got back in the car and pulled off.

I probably should have pulled off myself, but I wanted the man to know that someone else besides the cops knew he was lying.

“You flipped them off,” I said.

“No I didn’t, besides, what business is it of yours?”

“You flipped them off and then you lied to them.”

“Hey why do you care what I did?”

“I came over here to witness how they would react.”

I knew this guy, based on his behavior so far, was going to have trouble making the mental and emotional leap from seeing me as a busy-body to accepting me as someone who might actually have helped him.

So I push away on my bicycle and left him to his deceptions and dangerous impulses.

And that was the end of this little street scene.

Looking back on it, I’m not sure what else might have happened if I hadn’t been riding by and decided to become a bystander/witness. I’d like to think nothing. The cop had an inspired open-ended line about “signaling.”

Would the cops have behaved differently had I not been there? Is there a law on the books about flipping off the police? Should the cops have ignored the guy? Should I have ignored the guy? Did he, could he, learn anything from the encounter?

What I learned is that it’s good to have “eyes on the street.”

The more, the better — for all kinds of reasons.

Loose ends: the States of War and Journalism

About that Army recruiting sign at the Sunset Boulevard and Capitol Highway bus stop.

Based on honking and thumbs up signals at our Friday evening peace vigils at the corner, I’d say that sentiment against the war runs about 85 percent in and around Hillsdale. One way to pull the plug on this war is if no one signs up to fight it.

So should Tri-Met confer with communities before selling advertising on transit display space in neighborhoods? Should, for instance, the Hillsdale Neighborhood Association be able to nix Tri-Met advertising for an “Adult shop” (a curious term, that), Wal-Mart or Army recruiting?

The other perturbing aspect of the advertising is that we, the taxpayers, are paying for it. But then we are paying for all of the Bush war misadventures, including contracted torture, privatized armies and new military bases around the globe.

A recruiting ad on a bus shelter is admittedly small change. Still, we have to begin somewhere — why not at the local bus stop?

Regarding the plight of “Old Media” and journalism education.

I’m sure the irony of my relying on “Old Media” for my updates on the demise of “Old Media” hasn’t escaped readers. Consider me a transitional figure. Unlike people under 30, “Honored Citizen” that I am (another curious term), I get my news from print. And like piker interested in disseminating his or her prose, I write about media and (too) many other issues largely on-line.

I probably have another year to go as a newsPAPER reader. I still like the way turning pages gives me just an instant’s moment for reflection. It can make a difference.

Finally, as someone who has taught journalistic writing for nearly 40 years, I believe there will always be a need for journalism courses in high schools and colleges. Journalistic writing teaches students to write for a diverse, unseen audience — certainly more diverse and unseen than their solitary teacher. I tell my students to write for me only as an editor, not as their teacher. Their real readers inhabit the world beyond the classroom.

The discipline of journalistic writing also demands clarity and conciseness, qualities sorely missing in much writing today. Significantly, the Web demands those qualities even more than print does.

Further, the craft of journalistic writing teaches the young writer how to reach readers where THEY are, not where the writer is. For many young people, that is a huge developmental leap — and one to be encouraged.

Finally, journalistic writing teaches accuracy, healthy skepticism and fairness.

Even though journalism may be in crisis (it was always thus), its skills are in great and growing demand and should be taught widely, vigorously and unapologetically.