A Brush with Inequality: Why People Really Hate Working on Thanksgiving

When Costco executive Paul Latham was asked why the company is keeping its stores closed on Thanksgiving, his answer to The Huffington Post was clear and simple: "Our employees work especially hard during the holiday season, and we simply believe that they deserve the opportunity to spend Thanksgiving with their families."

But while closing stores is the right decision, his reason misses the mark. Let's be honest: is being away from family really why people hate working on Thanksgiving? As much as we all look forward to commenting on the size of the bird and praising how wonderfully moist it is this year (what's your secret?), the truth is that the meal and ensuing ennui are less important than what they symbolize: everyone, young and old, rich and poor, sitting together at the same table.

That meaning is turned upside down when people have to work on the holiday and face today's harsh reality: we don't all get a seat at the table. As much as we tell ourselves that America's the land of opportunity and the place where dreams are made, the truth is that some of us will always have to work on Thanksgiving.

When I began my career as a young journalist, I often had to work nights, weekends, and public holidays, and for good reason: it was a daily newspaper. But working those days always made me reflect on where I was and where I would be in the future. I was thankful that I had a job, a place to live, and food to eat. But I was frustrated that I had to work when so many others got the day off.

On Thursday, Costco and those retailers who remain closed deserve our thanks -- not for honoring tradition or time with extended family, but for something far more basic: giving everyone the day to call their own. 

Where Were You on 9/11? Don't Ask

For 11 years we've remembered the day that terrorists flew planes into the Twin Towers, the Pentagon, and a field in Pennsylvania, killing nearly 3,000 innocent people. But I still avoid conversations that begin: Where were you on 9/11? I know it's an open-ended question that prompts us to share first-hand accounts of that tragic day and its global impact. But whether it's survivor's guilt, hypersensitivity, or both, I just don't feel comfortable sharing my story.

Maybe it's because I was a young reporter at a daily newspaper in the suburbs north of New York City, just getting to work with no idea how big a story it was. Or perhaps, it was because my job post-9/11 was to help find out who died and write about them. In the first few days and weeks, it was making calls and knocking on doors, trying to find out if husbands and wives knew the status of their loved ones. Soon, I was covering memorial services and funerals, from Central Park to Scarsdale, learning about the people who died just because they worked in those two towers. It was hard for sure; but I always felt lucky just to be alive. I saw the funerals as a chance not only to write about the lives of victims, but also to learn from them. Some weeks or months after 9/11, the news staff received an email from a top editor, recognizing the work we had all done and offering us the option to turn down another funeral assignment if it was just too tough. I remember appreciating that message: the editors recognized we were all human.

Still, I never turned down an assignment. It was not because I was better than other reporters, whom I hope took breaks whenever needed. But I guess I saw reporting as my duty to the victims and their families. It didn't matter where I was on 9/11; it only mattered where they were.

"The Newsroom" is to "The Wire" as Hollywood is to Reality

Discussing a story in the newsroom of HBO's The Wire.

A few weeks ago, journalists on CNN's Reliable Sources were discussing whether HBO's The Newsroom reflected the reality of life in a newsroom. The answer was, of course, no: it heightened office drama and competition between journalists to make the show compelling. It also sounded a lot like another show created by Aaron Sorkin: The West Wing. While The West Wing brought the White House to life, it was also preachy and over the top, with characters alternating between witty commentary and in-depth policy analysis with more speed and poise than even the smartest of our nation's presidents.

I can't help but think of a show only a few years earlier on HBO that was by the far one of the best written dramas ever: The Wire. The show depicted Baltimore drug dealers, police officers, drug addicts, politicians, and journalists as real people, struggling to survive in their jobs and their private lives. In the fifth season, the show goes into the newsroom of The Baltimore Sun, and brings together the problems that have plagued print journalism in recent years: from a reporter who makes up news (think Jayson Blair of The New York Times), to an executive editor who cares more about winning a Pulitzer than naming a source. There are even layoffs at the paper, something that has plagued newspapers across the country for the past decade.

Still, the most accurate depictions of life in The Wire's newsroom come from the moments that are most ordinary. There's the scene where the city editor is worried that he might have made a mistake in a story, and calls the copy desk in the middle of the night to double check. Many reporters are guilty of being that neurotic; it's part of a job where accuracy is key and your work is displayed in front of the world every day. And there are the scenes where the city editor is in the newsroom: focused and analytical as he assigns and reads stories, and frustrated and angry as he sees the integrity of the paper begin to crumble. It's not as frenetic and sexy as The Newsroom, but then again, life never really is.   

How are PR Consultants Perceived?

When I was a reporter at a daily newspaper, people who worked in PR were called "flacks," and those journalists who left to work in public relations were "going to the dark side." This was understandable. People in PR are often trying to shield their clients from the press, and instead of helping journalists, are giving them flak. (To learn more about the origin of flack and flak, check out this post from The Word Detective.)

I always thought the problem was just about common courtesy and about the way people in PR treat journalists. But there is also the issue of how people in PR treat potential clients. What are clients paying for? And what are the results? A restaurant owner wrote an interesting post about his experience with PR firms, and a follow-up piece about the benefits of social media. I think it sounds a little extreme, and there is a benefit to public relations when it's done right. But what do you think?