many small fish

Some very striking concepts and vivid images will remain with me now that the PJ1 workshop has ended.

One of these was the image of a small fish up against a huge, mean-looking fish (a shark?) -- one of the last slides in PECOJON International Coordinator Antonia Koop's presentation.

That is what peace journalists are. No longer part of the status quo, they swim against the tide. They are aware that how they report can contribute to the escalation -- or resolution -- of a conflict.

Many times, we have seen media practitioners making mountains out of molehills, or fanning the flames of conflict. It is unfortunate. But now we know that we don't have to sell conflict, pitt A against B, or report things from the same tired old box. Though we've been trained to recognize conflict as one of the things that make news newsworthy, we know that we don't have to highlight it in our reporting.

It won't happen overnight. But one day, maybe peace journalism will become the status quo. And many small fish together will have the power to change things.

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I had the opportunity of a brief but educational exchange with Antonia. What she said strongly echoed James Nachtwey's sentiments: It's all about the people most affected by conflict situations.

People caught in conflict situations are very much like small fish in the sea of humanity. Media practitioners often reinforce this. While journalists focus on the powerful, the top brass, the big players, and the celebrities, any reportage that examines ordinary people's lives is lost.

Bill Kovach and Tom Rosenstiel said journalism's first obligation is to the truth. Certainly, to tell the truth means more than just to meet the standards of veracity. I think that philosophically -- and maybe from a human interest perspective -- it means finding an ordinary person's truth and telling it.

So this is how we fulfill another of Kovach's and Rosenstiel's journalism standards: to give voice to the voiceless. When we point our cameras and our voice recorders or microphones to tell their stories, it is a glimmer of hope to them, a possibility that maybe -- just maybe -- they matter after all.