This week, I was one of the reporters writing about an assault on a transgender woman that happened last week at a bakery in Spokane. Here, I want to tell the backstory of how this story came to be, because I think it illustrates the problem with automatically assuming the media doesn't care about particular types of stories.
The woman was attacked on a Friday night, and I first heard about the story from a friend on Sunday afternoon. She'd texted me asking if I knew anything, and I told her I'd look into it on Monday when I was back at work.
By the time I got to work Monday morning, the city's Human Rights Commission had issued a call for citizens to show support for the victim. People spoke at city council. We wrote a story. All three of our city's TV stations wrote a story. The alt-weekly covered it. A bunch of LGBT media outlets picked it up.
Police released photos of the suspects and arrested them less than a day later. Media followed up, publishing photos of the suspects and writing about their court appearance, where both men were released without bail.
Much of this came as a result of the bakery's owner, who made some phone calls and got local leaders interested in the case. We got wind of it soon after, and were quick to get a story up.
Our columnist spoke with the owner about her efforts to get the word out. She talks about waiting, for a full day after the attack, for the news media to report what had happened. When she heard nothing - from us, from the police - she decided to get the ball rolling.
I understand the impulse to think that the media doesn't care about particular crimes or particular victims. We pick and choose what we report, and often that process has the effect of further marginalizing people who are already marginalized. It's no secret, for instance, that we're more likely to cover a murder case from the initial gunshot to the final gavel if the victim isn't the type you'd expect to be killed - someone young, with potential and without a criminal history.
Add that to the fact that media coverage of transgender people tends to lack context, misuse terminology or be downright offensive, and you'd be forgiven for thinking we might not care about this particular woman.
But we did. Without exception, we wrote about this as soon as someone told us about it. And had we known sooner, we would have written sooner. We can't do our jobs if people don't occasionally reach out and tell us what's going on.
My job is to cover crime and public safety. For the one-off, day-to-day stories telling people "this crime happened," I tend to get my information from scanner traffic (while the crime is in progress), police press releases (which usually go out for major crimes) and court documents (generally filed after an arrest has been made).
That means if a crime happens during off hours (late at night, especially on the weekend) and the cops don't decide to send out information right away, we usually won't hear about it for a few days until it trickles through the grapevine - which is more or less what happened with this assault. So the best way for someone to get information out there, if they think the cops aren't paying attention or taking a crime seriously, or if their account differs significantly from the official one, is to call me and tell me what's going on.
I can't promise every reporter will always care about the particular story you have. I get a lot of calls from a lot of people who are convinced they've been slighted, injured, maligned, slandered and attacked. Some end up being stories. Most don't. But the ones that do are often some of my best work - I like writing about things I know people care about, especially when I feel like I can help amplify the voice of someone who might otherwise be ignored.
So instead of assuming we don't care, why not pick up the phone or send us an email and find out?