montanajournalism J-School, Montana Kaimin, Student

The New Weekly Kaimin Starts Strong

By Andrew Graham

Wednesday morning, University of Montana students woke up to their first Montana Kaimin of the school year, in its new weekly and full color format. The change from a daily to weekly printed paper came at the end of last year, as the Kaimin adapted to industry wide changes in print journalism.

Official logo for the Montana Kaimin newspaper

The new format will feature 24 pages and be in news racks every Wednesday. The first issue paid homage to the Grizzlie’s come-from-behind thriller against North Dakota State, with a large cover photo of running back Joey Counts breaking into the end zone.

“It’s awesome, it’s beautiful,” said Editor-in-Chief Cavan Williams, “the colors really pop and we’ve got a great picture on the cover.” Inside a pair of feature stores from Sports Reporter Andrew Houghton support the cover, with one recapping the game and another describing University of Montana’s acquisition of new head football coach Bob Stitt.

Williams said he’s pleased to be at the helm of a paper going into a weekly format, where writers and editors for the print edition will always be thinking two weeks ahead. Breaking news will be covered from the Kaimin’s revamped website and social media platform.

Kevin Van Valkenburg, Senior Writer at ESPN the Magazine, is helping to guide the Kaimin’s transition as the visiting T. Anthony Pollner Professor for the fall semester. “I think it was great to see the Kaimin start strong with the new year, after all the change it underwent,” he said.

In the paper the change was greeted with excitement, as well as a certain amount of hat tipping to the new world of journalism today. “Change is often scary, exciting and chaotic, but to not embrace it is foolish,” Williams wrote to Kaimin readers in a Letter from the Editor. It’s a message journalism students especially can embrace.

montanajournalism Dean Abramson, J-School

We no longer control the video…

The recent tragedy at WDBJ in Roanoke, VA has prompted the usual journalistic introspection about violent imagery. Our industry has shown once again that we are a wild bunch, with no unified standards. Some outlets covering the shooting of Alison Parker and Adam Ward chose to show isolated snippets from the station’s own video of the shooting, which transpired live on air. Some held back. Others went so far as to show bits of the video recorded by the alleged shooter, Vester Flanagan. But some stayed away from those particular images. Decisions were all over the map.

quote lifted from text reading

There was a time when these judgments would have felt very weighty, but that time has passed. Personally, I think that is for the best.   I chose to view all the videos and can say they were truly horrifying.   That was my choice, and I am sure many people will choose differently. On this topic, the Internet truly is a democratic medium. I do not view those beheading videos—again, my choice, and I do not judge those who do look.

TV and newspapers no longer get to decide whether the public should be protected from grisly pictures. We can always go elsewhere. The debates in newsrooms about what to show seem quaint, almost dated. It’s true that TV viewers are in a unique position, because they might be surprised by a sudden gory video. That is why TV long faced tougher scrutiny from regulators.

You can argue that Internet videos feed such violence by guaranteeing an audience for the unstable. I cannot agree. Along with relics like the Fairness Doctrine, our editorial nanny state is being whittled away by YouTube and Twitter. You can avert your eyes, but you cannot stop the change. Journalists can now move on to the more serious business of covering violence and its causes, and stop focusing on ethics questions from a bygone era.

Larry Abramson

montanajournalism Feature, Student

Paddling across Beaver Lake

UM J-school grad student Ken Rand of the Crown Reporting Project checks in from the Flathead River Basin

On an early morning I am winding my way up a back road, 10 miles northwest of Whitefish toward Beaver Lake, to the only known site of Eurasian Water Milfoil introduced into the Flathead River Basin. I am not sure what I will see when I get to the end of the dusty road, but on the map it didn’t seem so far.

I try to imagine a boater carrying an unnoticeable strand of Milfoil with them from a place like the Cabinet Gorge on the Clark Fork River a few hours west of here or even from further away in the Missouri River. This type of milfoil is present in every state but Wyoming, Hawaii and Alaska!

A quote from a fisheries biologist keeps coming back to my head: “We are good at moving plants and animals around, sometimes too good.”
The out-of-the-way lake has a view of the Whitefish Mountains and the ski resort in the distance. I slip my kayak loaded with camera gear into the lake, past signs warning of invasive species.

Beaver Lake is a small body of water, seemingly unlikely to be infested by an invasive species, but the boat launch provides access to many boaters.
I think of a modified version of a phrase from the movie Field of Dreams, “If you build it (they) will come.”

When I get to the far end of the lake, I see a Milfoil; I count the strands on the stem and photograph and film it with my underwater camera.

As I hold it in my hand, I realize how the delectate strands break apart, each one with the potential to become another plant. I watch each strand drift away and start to realize just how easy it can be to move a little strand of life to another place.

The plant I held, however, was likely a native Northern Milfoil that is hard to tell apart from its invasive cousin. To differentiate takes counting each strand on a branch or a genetic test in the lab.

I paddle on around the lake. I see loons and osprey floating and fishing on the water, and minnows and amphibians below.

I am happy to be writing about such a beautiful place and finding new ways to protect it.

After my paddle, I check my boat for any pieces of plant life, native or non-native. I am more aware of these hitchhikers than I was before.