gratitude-a-thon day 485: on the cover of the rolling stone

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What does it mean that The Rolling Stone article on the gang rape at University of Virginia, which shut down Greek life, sent chills through the campus, and country (not to mention this mom of a son who is a member of the same frat, but at USC) is now in question?

It’s still not clear what happened to “Jackie,” or why her story was not more scrutinized by the reporter putting the story together. My guess would be that it was not to victimize the victim further. But now, with question marks floating around this whole debacle, the basics I learned in journalism school should have been in play. Who, what, when, where, why. GET MORE THAN ONE SOURCE.

If you’ve been watching the HBO series Newsroom, you might notice a loose parallel to the very moral news station being purchased by a social media maven, who wants to transform the ethical, hard news organization, into a money making citizen journalism, anyone-with-a-twitter-account-can-report-the-news station. I don’t mean to suggest that Rolling Stone is not a quality magazine, because it actually has a long history of award winning reporting, integrity and intelligent writing, but what I mean is that because of the nature of this story, the story was not fact-checked in the way that a story written for R.S. is normally fact-checked. Reporter Mike Taibbi tweeted, “It usually takes longer to fact-check a Rolling Stone feature than it does to write it.” This is where we could find ourselves if twitter takes over for educated, experienced journalists.

Back to the story and the impact. From the UVA campus, where the Phi Psi frat in question has been vandalized, to its entire Greek system being suspended, to the feeling of fear that’s wafting through that beautiful campus like the smell of pizza, to my high school daughter’s shock and anger over the original article, this thing is a disaster for rape survivors, for journalism, and for the frat in question.

When Jake was home for Thanksgiving, he and a friend went out to eat in nearby Allston. He wore his Phi Psi baseball hat. He told me that a young guy came up to him and called him a rapist. I was stunned, but there was a little part of me that understood how this could occur. Phi Psi was being judged without a jury.

Important to note that before I understood frat life, before I met the “brothers,” I was skeptical of my son wanting to belong to an organization that was so exclusive. But after Parent’s Weekend, after meeting so many Phi Psi guys, all of whom were polite, welcoming, and warm, I was sorry to have doubted his wanting to belong.

Truth in journalism is vital. Not being vigilant about the facts, not putting every news story through a meat grinder of fact checking can have disastrous effects. I’m grateful that Rolling Stone is doing in-depth research into the story, and will publish the results. Getting it right is always better than making money.

gratitude-a-thon day 648: it’s parent’s weekend

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Ok, this cracked me up. There was a green screen with real marching band members and you got to pose with them and look like you were on the field with them. giggle.
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The USC campus is really beautiful.

My first Parent’s Weekend was kind of awesome. I’ve sort of always fantasized about what it would be like when I was the mom and not the kid in the college equation. I had my kids so late, I always wondered if I’d be like the oldest parent at one of these shindigs. Fortunately, I wasn’t. And guess what else, I practically walked a marathon while I was there, and my bunion-less foot got a big fat A+. This had been a huge worry for some months, whether I’d be able to really do any kind of walking while I was there, but I aced it, baby.

Anyway, L.A. is great. I mean, every time I’m there, I want to stay, Peter and I scheme about how we could move out there, I smile a lot. Let’s face it, I am no longer cut out for a cold weather landscape, if I ever was. While it was snowing in Brookline, it was sunny in lala land. Sunny and warm. And pretty. And yes, there was traffic, a lot of it, but it was sunny. And who doesn’t love a palm tree. They just scream vacation, even though they’re just regular old trees doing their thing.

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My first HUGE college football game. I hate football, but this was a blast.
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Tommy Trojan, the mascot, on his white horse!

I went to my first big time college football game. I mean, I have been to Harvard games, but this thing was huge. The Trojans (and no, I will never get over the fact that the team name at USC is also a birth control device) play at the L.A. Colliseum, which seats 93, 607 people. So, it was, uh, kind of BIG. And very cool. It was televised, so the camera was on wires, floating around the field, which was one of the most fascinating things to me (I really must up the ante on what impresses me, or get out more), and the fans are rabid. The USC Trojan (there’s that word again) marching band is really, like crazy exceptional. These guys blow it out of the park every time they open it up. So, that was super cool, and then there is Tommy Trojan (how about that for a name), the mascot, who rides around in a Roman gladiator get-up on a white horse! This was an event, I can tell you.

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Peter and Bruce Furniss, an Olympic gold medalist and Peter’s childhood idol.
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Frat barbecue. The guys of Phi Psi are really nice.

The rest of the weekend was spent walking around campus, meeting roommates, frat brothers, roommate’s parents, frat brother’s parents, eating and laughing. Our first glimpse of our son’s apartment was of it having a party with an intense beer pong game, an ice rink of beer on the floor, and a bathroom so dirty, I almost cleaned it right then and there. Ah, boys. We went to what was my first water polo game, even though my husband used to play it and coach it (pre-me). What a sport that is. You gotta be in some majorly great shape to play this. You’re treading water or swimming the entire time. There is not one moment when you’re on break during the game. We’re talking superhero cardio shape. We won in an exciting match up against Berkley. We had a Mexican dinner in downtown L.A. with the frat pledge class, and Peter met one of his childhood swimming idols, Olympic gold medalist, Bruce Furniss, who was super nice, and who’s wife is my new bestie. We went to a giant barbecue at the Phi Psi frat house, with the entire frat. We stayed in Santa Monica, so we got to go to Urth Cafe, my favorite coffee place, and gaze at the beach every morning.

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Water polo.This is a fun sport to watch.
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Seen at the USC Roski School of Art & Design.
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Loved this.
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I was mesmerized by these grasses.

It was so much fun, I was immediately depressed to land at the end of a gray day in Boston. Of course, heading almost immediately to the end of year soccer dinner, where Ally was named captain of her team (more on that later) cheered me up A LOT, but I still wish I was back in L.A . with the sun, and my son (who we shamed into shaving by telling him he looked like a pedophile, which he did, but now does not).

 

gratitude-a-thon day 467: the other coast

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MtDhtadoeUk

Tomorrow we experience a USC football game, the incredible marching band, various Phi Psi frat activities, some classes, and some sunny California. I can barely wait. Well, and of course, amidst the mayhem, we get to see Jake, which is the most fun part, and who I miss every damn day. I am grateful for air travel, I am grateful for parent’s weekend, I am grateful for Jake choosing a warm weather college. As Randy Newman put it, “I love L.A.” Fight on.

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