
Photo by Eric Kwakernaak.
My first time in the Martlet’s office — an eclectic room in the basement of the SUB — was to attend a volunteer information session five years ago. I didn’t say a word during the session, left immediately after it ended, and only actually wrote for the Martlet for the first time two years later. It took me that long to muster up the courage.
The first article I wrote was a simple listicle, but I remember it felt like a goliathan task. I moved on to write culture articles, then news coverage, feature-length stories and, eventually, investigations. As I practiced, I grew my skills and became more comfortable with the work. It sparked a sense of purpose in me that caused me to change direction in my degree, and pursue journalism as a career. The Martlet, effectively, gave me my voice.
The question at the core of our operations is: What do we have to offer to our community? The answer, which has guided the Martlet through its long history, is twofold. We exist to produce quality coverage of stories that affect the UVic community as our readers’ longtime trusted source, and to be a launchpad for the next generation of journalists.
It is the latter part of our organization’s purpose that felt most daunting to me when I started in the role of Editor-in-Chief last May. How will we attract prospective journalists? On a global scale, credible, public-interest journalism is becoming both increasingly endangered and increasingly necessary. At the same time, jobs in journalism are becoming fewer, public trust in the media is trending downward, and the occupational hazards associated with present-day journalism are becoming greater.
Yet, with a few workshops and some campus outreach, our volunteer team doubled in a year. Almost everyday somebody new wanders into the Martlet office and asks how they can get involved. My inbox is constantly flooded with inquiries about writing and volunteering. We receive more excellent pitches than we can assign for each issue.
Our community is made of incredible young journalists (editors, photographers, and illustrators, too) who are eager to hold power to account, to tell the untold story, to report with integrity, and to shine a light on those who are making our world a more just place.
They all know what we are up against. They want to learn to do the work — and do it well — anyway. The Martlet has always been a place for learning. Take my story for example. And the importance of that function is arguably greater now than it ever has been.
As current and prospective world leaders bully the press and willfully compromise journalists’ right to do their jobs — which are now and have always been essential pillars of democracy — it is reasonable to be angry. As media outlets across Canada face mass-scale cuts and closures, it makes sense to feel scared. In the face of widespread misinformation and ‘citizen journalism,’ which feeds public distrust of the media, it’s okay to be despairing. I am, too, at times.
But I am also hopeful. I believe that it’s imperative to reject relentless pessimism, both as people and as journalists. And for me, the enthusiasm and drive of the Martlet’s growing team to learn how to do this work has been clear proof that while the industry is certainly changing, we are not doomed.
I can’t know what the future of student journalism, or journalism at large, looks like. Nobody can. But if the path forward is tread by a generation of journalists like those with whom I’ve had the privilege of working this year, I am excited to find out.
It has been an honour to serve as the Martlet’s Editor-in-Chief.
Sincerely,
Sydney Lobe