Using event programmes as inspiration
I’m back in Amsterdam. I wasn’t sure how I felt about returning as I was so hectic in the run up to coming to even think about it until I was packing my suitcases (one of which inevitably broke, probably from yet another – pardon the unintended pun - case of overpacking) and the usual excitement wasn’t there. But then as soon as the train scuttled closer to Amsterdam, the giddiness jolted out of me. I always feel slightly emotional pulling into Centraal Station and then when I see my usual haunts, I feel overwhelming pangs of happiness. So yes, I’m very happy and grateful to be back. Although, I will say I’m not sleeping as much as I'd like due to noises from the flat above and work outside so I’m feeling exhausted. Zzzz.
I’m writing this earlier than usual as I’ll be on a psilocybin (magic truffles) retreat and then will be running my workshop. I’m feeling all kind of emotions from slightly nervous to excited for the former. I’ll say more on it on another newsletter. My loose Amsterdam itinerary is stacking up with work. Amsterdam does hold an abundance of work opportunities. For example, this week there’s AI World Summit, Social Enterprise World Forum, while the following there’s Amsterdam Dance Event (ADE). And I find lots of contacts and old acquaintances pass through, like the guy I lived next door to in East Dulwich in 2005, who messaged me last night on Facebook to ask to meet up as he’s visiting later in the month.
I was scouring through the programme for some of these events and I thought some of them can spark good feature ideas. For example, I’m attending the Green conference for ADE and there’s a session on bamboo as a construction material at festivals, which I pointed out to my BBC editor and he’s commissioned me a piece on it (although we're widening it out and I will give a nod to the conference). This could also be used as a springboard for PRs for feature ideas and suggestions – not just the event PRs who but if you or your client are appearing on an interesting panel you could highlight the session/idea to a features journalist. We’re always looking for fresh and interesting ideas and obviously can’t attend or look at every event programme.
A welcome (and emotional) impact from journalism
A few years ago I interviewed Rose* for the Guardian's How I Spend It slot. It was an emotional conversation that I've never forgot.
Rose had lost both her parents when she was trafficked over to the UK from Nigeria, aged 21. She was forced to work as a prostitute for five years. "It was against every basic belief and right that I knew," she told me. "We weren’t allowed out on our own. There were always men guiding us. They abused us. We were forced to do unthinkable things."
Her life took a turn when she met a woman in a hairdressers who spoke her local language in Nigeria. The woman hatched a plan for her to escape and let her live with her. Later, Rose met someone and had a family.
When I spoke to her she was single mum, and an asylum seeker, meaning she was unable to work and further continue her health and social care career. "It reminded me that even though I’m safe, I’m still a prisoner. I don’t have freedom. I cannot work...I want my son and daughter, aged 10 and 7, to see me as someone doing something, not sat at home doing nothing. I’m grateful, but it’s not me."
She lived off an allowance of £100 a week. As she wanted to improve her children's prospects, a third was spent on tutors.
After the piece was published, a charity got in touch to say they would fund her health and social care course.
Last week I received a message that, I have to admit, left me sobbing. I have added it below but in a nutshell the trustee from the charity said they had since helped secure Rose and her children accommodation in London, sponsor her nursing training and provide legal support to secure her UK citizenship. This year Rose will qualify as a nurse, and is due to receive full citizenship in 2025. Her kids are thriving and her daughter is hoping to become a lawyer.
* Rose's name was changed in the article.
Here is the original Guardian article.
Friday night in Amsterdam's Red Light District
It’s 10pm on Friday night and I’m in the Red Light District (RLD) working. No, not scantily-clad behind neon windows, but interviewing residents and business owners about the proposal to move the RLD out of the neighbourhood. As the hours roll by, the area becomes more boisterous. In some areas, where there’s lines of red-lit windows down narrow streets, it's overbearingly congested. Noisy. Drunken men leer at the women behind the glass. Some walk out like they’ve won a prize. Most, though, are just there to gawp. I go from business to business - coffee shops to bars to tattoo parlours and restaurants, looking for people to interview. I don’t know how many I go in over the hours but I soon understand how difficult reporting like this can be.
While you might come across vox pops (a series of short interviews, usually with members of the public) in a paper, on TV or on radio, what you don’t see are the attempts to get people to talk. Here in the RLD, most don’t want to chat. Either they don’t have authority from their boss, or it’s Friday, they’re busy. “It’ll only take one minute,” I almost plead after countless knockbacks. They shrug their shoulders and shake their head. I can’t help but think our whole conversation just took a minute. One more. Many are nervous and when they find out it’s for radio, they back out. I find a case study via a WhatsApp group, which then leads to a neighbour next door being open to being interviewed. We end up having a good chat. She wants to be off the record, though. At this stage, I can cope with it. I try more places. No, no, no.
I come across two friends sat drinking wine outside a fashion store. The woman is vocal and passionate about the RLD remaining where it is. She’s a good find. But when her friend starts his tirade, it’s littered with swear words. “Sorry, no swearing, like I said.” This angers him immensely. “Fucking hell, why can’t I swear?” Followed by more expletives. Sigh. I wonder if he can be edited. Coming up to 11pm, with enough interviews captured, I call it a night.
Learning when to stop emailing a journalist
Every now and again I have to ask a PR to remove me from their mailing list. The request doesn’t give me any pleasure, but it’s often a last resort after receiving too many pitches that I wouldn't cover. I could block them (and sometimes I do) but sometimes I prefer to send through a polite request with a reason so they know why their emails have gone unanswered and perhaps it helps them understand why it’s better to target journalists (something I bang on about in my workshop and course).
I was reminded of this when I saw a journalist publicly flogging a PR on Twitter last week after she posted that she had been repeatedly sent emails about pregnancy and babies which she didn’t wish to receive. I too have asked PRs not to send me emails and then weeks later, they’re back at it. Now I know some of this can be put down to all manner of tech systems and media databases, but if a journalist is telling you not to email them, please do everything you can to respect that. It’s rude to continue emailing when someone has specifically gone out their way to tell you not to, especially about subjects they may find sensitive. However, I will say, there’s always the block button which I am also partial to when a barrage of unwanted and irrelevant emails fly into my inbox.
ps I continually work with AMAZING PRs and have bigged up PRs on here. Also, I'm well aware what a nightmare some of us journalists are too.
Beyond expectations: My first rodeo in radio
While I adore print and online and will continue to work in those fields, I’ve yearned to move into radio for years (so much so it even made an appearance on my one and only mood board in 2020). Last week, to my amazement, there I was up Salford, Manchester helping produce BBC Four’s prestigious Today programme and Radio 5’s Wake Up to Money. I absolutely loved getting stuck in, thrashing around ideas for the next day, finding and briefing guests, and learning first-hand how a radio show is produced. I was only in for two days for a test run but it made me realise how much I love being part of a team. I used to freelance in-house at magazines and at the Guardian but apart from volunteering at the food bank, winter shelters, and Crisis and so on, I haven’t worked as part of a team for years.
Like most people facing a new challenge, I’d had pangs of self-doubt before entering Quay House so I was taken aback when the editor told me how impressed they all were with me and that he’d already shared his thoughts about me with the two bigwigs above him. To have that level of feedback obviously made my heart sing, especially as I’d spent the last six weeks worrying about how it might go. At the end of my last day, he said they’d like to properly train me up.
After longing to move into the format for so long, I'm surprised by how quickly doors have opened. On the first day the editor asked where I lived. “Margate, and actually, kind of also Amsterdam now,” I replied. Ears pricked up behind me. “Did you write the piece “Can Amsterdam make the circular economy work?” asked the BBC World Service editor sat behind me. I nodded. “We were just discussing you yesterday. Would you be open to pitching me ideas?” This was exactly the situation I wanted to be in – reporting on the radio from overseas. I discussed some ideas. This is exactly the stuff we want, he said. We’ve been in touch since and I’m thrilled to say (and I'm still in full pinch-me mode) that he’s commissioned me my first audio piece for BBC World Service (well, as long as there's no tech issues).
While there's a huge learning curve ahead of me and as self-indulgent as all of this is, I wanted to share this as I thought it might help any readers who are faced with barriers when it comes to achieving their ambitions. I never thought this chance might happen, even though I knew I could definitely I'd give it a good shot if it ever came my way. Now, hopefully, I’m at the start of the journey and a new chapter in my career. Of course, it’s all new and anything could happen, but just to get a foot in somewhere I was starting to think was impossible feels like a huge milestone.
What this means for my current mode of semi living in Amsterdam I don’t know, although I’m hoping that the opportunities with BBC World Service means I can get my foot in the door and report from overseas in a different way and more than I currently do.
As for yourselves, obviously I’ve only worked there for a few days so far but it’s been super useful in making me understand how businesses and PRs can pitch radio producers. My learnings will come through in another post, or as part of my course/workshop soon. When I’m working regular shifts, I will let you know what kind of pitches I’m open to and how best to pitch.
The downfall of digital publishing
When I started off in journalism back in 2007 there was so much discourse and enthusiasm surrounding digital publishing. Print circulation stats showed the industry was in dire straits but on the other hand, there was so much investment and buzz around the burgeoning digital startups such as Buzzfeed, Vice, and later a flurry of titles like The Pool (RIP). Perhaps these bright young stars were going to show the traditional publishers that this was the future of journalism, starting with 7 Things You Need to Know From Watching an Episode of Friends. I jest.
Listicles aside, Buzzfeed did go beyond the clickbait at times and publish strong stories often followed up by news titles. But its success didn't last. The publisher closed its newsroom in April and its CEO Jonah Peretti said the company “can no longer continue to fund” the site. Now the latest victim of digital publishing is Vice News, which has just filed for bankruptcy. The site did produce stellar journalism and investigations at times and while the company has just been bought, it's far cry from its hey day when it was valued at a whopping $5.7bn.
Like we’ve known for a while, online revenues simply don’t add up. Early in my journalism days when I covered the publishing patch, even scribing a weekly column called Bearne on Media where I would chart the media landscape, there was so much discussion about how publishers could make journalism pay. The Times made a bold leap and followed the FT’s cue to launch a paywall, much to everyone’s surprise. Many thought it wouldn’t work but they have defeated the naysayers, and subs keep rising.
To succeed, there needs to be a mixture of revenue models. In the world of TikTok and Instagram, advertisers are finding more engagement on those platforms than sticking a banner ad on a website (although, advertising goes beyond that).
What we do need is journalism, and for people to be willing to pay for it. Personally I love buying newspapers and magazines. This is what I pay for:
The Sunday Times (subscription which gives me access to The Times online)
Ethical Consumer (subscription)
The Big Issue (subscription)
The New York Times (subscription)
Guardian or Observer on a weekend
Red
Positive News (probably twice a year)
Conde Nast Traveller (probably twice a year)
Wired (couple of times a year)
Simple Things (couple of times a year)
When I’m travelling, I still need my print fix so I'll either buy Guardian Weekly, The New York Times or the FT Weekend. Sometimes I’ll buy the Economist. Or a few of them if I'm feeling flush (and have run out of papers and magazines brought from home).
Plus I like to buy magazine subscriptions as gifts, say a science one for my nephews, a hiking title for my sister-in-law, and a newsy one for my dad.
I hope you can support journalism. I'll add a post on LinkedIn so we can continue the conversation over there.
Does AI spell the end of journalism?
It’s no secret that journalists have had a rough ride for a long time: hello stagnating rates, falling print circulation rates, publishers dropping out of the sector. Shall I go on? Well, yes, because we have another huge challenge hurtling at us. Come on at us, artificial intelligence (AI).
ChatGPT has prompted huge debate and column inches since its launch at the start of year. Standing for Generative Pre-trained Transformer, the machine-learning platform is a very nifty tool enabling users to type in queries and the AI responding in just seconds. If you haven’t tried it already (it’s quite easy to sign up and give it a whirl), you can see the gist of it with the picture below.
I started by asking ChatGBT to first write an article on the impact of Airbnb on communities across the globe. I followed this up by requesting a closer look at the impact of Airbnbs in Margate in the UK. You can see the response below:
Ok, so after testing the technology, I've decided I won't start rereading What Colour Is My Parachute? just yet.
As you can see, the very basic response did cover some of the key concerns of the platform, but I couldn’t see a national newspaper replacing its human crafted articles with this pared down content just yet. It’s lacking depth, critical thinking, and facts - and then it would need to be fact checked. But arguably, it forms the start of an article (or a GCSE essay). However, one of many other concerns is that the AI isn't providing you with unique copy; instead it's regurgitating the same content to people who have asked similar questions.
Still, some titles have jumped in and are already experimenting with the automated technology. CNET for one has been trialling the tech and using it to help write news articles or gather information for stories.
Editor-in-chief Connie Guglielmo said their plan was to find out whether the tech could “efficiently assist” their journalists “in using publicly available facts to create the most helpful content so our audience can make better decisions”. She said the articles were always “reviewed, fact-checked and edited by an editor with topical expertise” before going live.
For now journalists with insider knowledge and a book of strong contacts can’t be replaced – I’m not sure the robots have learnt how to door knock just yet, and I feel we’ll still be yearning to read opinion pieces from actual real-life journalists. But this is just the beginning, and of course, it doesn’t just impact journalists. There’s thousands of other jobs this will have a huge impact on.
Writing in The Spectator, author Sean Thomas believes the end is nigh for writers. “That's it. It's time to pack away your quill, your biro, and your shiny iPad: the computers will soon be here to do it better. ... The machines will come for much academic work first - essays, PhDs, boring scholarly texts (unsurprisingly it can churn these out right now). Fanfic is instantly doomed, as are self-published novels. Next will be low-level journalism ... then high-level journalism will go, along with genre fiction, history, biography, screenplays. ... 5,000 years of the written human word, and 500 years of people making a life, a career, and even fame out of those same human words, are quite abruptly coming to an end.”
Sober reading but hopefully it will spawn a huge creation of jobs we'd never heard of (hopefully beyond just servicing the robots and machines), like many of the past industrial changes have.
Thanks for reading.
Susie
Why isn't mainstream journalism paying enough attention to the climate crisis?
Happy New Year. I hope you had a pleasant break away from the laptop. I succumbed to the flu after our freelancer Christmas lunch in Margate and it was touch and go whether I’d make it back to my parents. But I slogged it to the north east in the nick of time and had a joyful Christmas with my family (after two years of festive separation due to Covid playing havoc).
I know I should probably start the year on a positive note but after reading yet another article from the weekend papers which frustrated the hell of me, I wanted to chat about the disconnect between journalism and the climate crisis. However, it’s not all doom and gloom (I hope), and I’ve outlined a few positive actions you could take away from this, if interested.
My anger was first ignited after reading a travel article in a Sunday paper which outlined the devastating impact of climate change (highlighting last year’s floods in Pakistan in which 33 million people were affected and a third of the country was UNDER WATER) and flagged up regions to avoid due to wildfires and extreme temperatures, instead suggesting alternative places to explore. I assumed that the journalist would then naturally talk about how we need to rethink the way we travel, encouraging us to holiday more local, fly less often, and turn to more sustainable modes of transport given we’re living in a climate emergency with parts of the world on fire or flooded, causing famine, death and homes being washed or burnt to the ground, but no. I reread the article in case I was missing something. Nada.
In the arts section of the same paper, I came across a double-page spread encouraging people to book flights purely to see exhibitions across the world. “Fly there for the weekend", was the gist of it. Given what we know about the climate emergency, I feel articles like these are a parody to the reality of the situation (hello Don't Look Up). Sometimes it feels like parts of the media are intentionally trying to end the future of humanity. You just need to recall all the front-page images of whenever it’s a heatwave, with images of people at the beach, rather than pictures of people running out of water, for example, and ignoring the alarming reasons why it’s happening – and what the future looks like, i.e. this could be the coolest summer on record.
Last year I wrote about the rise of dedicated climate desks, and while this is great news, what doesn't seem to be happening are conversations about the climate across other desks. We are in desperate need of climate training across all editorial. I see food features with are back-to-back meat and fish dishes. I’m not saying all features should focus on us living off-the-grid in the woods (sounds idyllic, though) but I think there needs to be reality check. Time is literally running out and the media has a huge role to play in relaying the urgency of it.
But we know many of these news desks and TV stations are in the hands of billionaire owners who provide a voice to climate deniers and certainly don’t want a move away from the current system of focusing on growth and more growth (which is harming us all).
So what can you do?
Ditch the fossil fuel clients. I wrote a couple of articles last year about agencies moving away from fossil fuel clients. Many people are rethinking their careers and moving to green jobs, a trend I wrote about for the BBC and Positive News. Could you encourage your clients to run more eco-friendly press trips? For example, in this past newsletter I looked at how one PR company were reducing flying and encouraging press trips by train. Is there a way to follow suit or bring in journalists who live in that region rather than flying journalists out?
Join a climate training workshop. I received a message on LinkedIn last week from a facilitator and trainer from Climate Clarity, which organises workshops for individuals and organisations designed to spread climate knowledge and provide tools to help them look at their specific power in position in society and look at what meaningful action they can take. More information here.
There’s also the Carbon Literacy Project which offers training to individuals and organisations to help them become aware of the impact of everyday carbon emissions, and what action they can take.
Thanks for reading,
Susie
Here’s Where More Journalists Are Hanging Out
In the last 48 hours I’ve had at least four alerts of journalists doing the same thing. Ping. Another has joined. And another one has joined. What is it, you might ask? The answer is Substack, the newsletter publishing platform.
Writing newsletters ain’t anything new but there appears to be a new breed of journalists choosing to go down this route. Many writers are jumping into this field because the traditional publishing model isn’t working for them anymore. Maybe there’s fewer opportunities to cover what they’d like to be writing about. Perhaps they view publishing a newsletter as an additional revenue stream, with some asking subscribers for a reasonable £5 a month to read their words. It may well be early days for some of them but they might turn into a strong side hustle or equate to a decent salary.
It’s another place you can get a glimpse into a journalist’s life (if you want to). You might gain more of an affinity or glimpse into their lifestyle which might make them easier to pitch to. Maybe they might cover what they’re working on at the moment (like moi, sometimes), or there could be an opportunity for you or your client’s brand to be featured in the newsletter as some may be landing in the inbox of your exact target audience. It might be impossible to subscribe to all of them (time-wise or money-wise), but perhaps there’s certain writers in your sector, or some you feel more naturally associated with, that you may wish to follow.
Also, it’s always another great way to build relationships with journalists. “Oh, I read your newsletter on and xxxx” etc might catch their attention and make them feel slightly more inclined to respond.
Here’s a few journalists on Substack that have caught my eye recently:
Kate Spicer
Tiffanie Darke
Caroline Criado Perez (starts from £5 a month)
Flic Bowden-Smith
Farrah Storr (from £6 a month)
A Masterful Way To Raise A Profile
About four years ago I received an email from the Guardian that both thrilled and scared me: Would I be interested in hosting a couple of Guardian Masterclasses? One exploring freelancing for journalists, the other focussed on how PRs and small businesses can improve their press coverage. A former colleague at the Guardian had recommended me. I knew I should jump at the chance – it could potentially lead to something – but I felt nervous. Running a masterclass for the Guardian? Eeek. To cut a long story short, I accepted the PR Masterclass gig. The programme leaders viewed the session as a success and on the back of it they lined me up to run sessions every quarter or so. Seizing the opportunity and disliking the fact it was just for Londoners (or those on the outskirts), I decided to set up my own workshops across the UK - where I will have met some of you in person - before jumping into webinars, courses, and so on. If I never said yes, I doubt I would be emailing you now. Although I've stuck to journalism and that will remain my core focus, it's meant that I'm a little less worried about money than I used to be. It leveraged me to become an expert, super charged me as a teacher, brought with it countless opportunities, and also helped me feel comfortable with public speaking.
So why should this backstory interest you? Because there's an opportunity for you or your client to host classes or courses with national titles.
The Guardian is investing heavily in its masterclasses and is constantly searching for experts to host classes on a range of different subjects.
If you're looking for a new way to raise your or your client's profile, why not pitch yourself or your clients to become a Guardian Masterclass host? Becoming a teacher can give you/your client a dash of gravitas – and ultimately help sell some more products/services.
Their timetable showcases a list of experts ranging from life coach Fiona Buckland to business strategist Simon Alexander Ong.
Here's the Pitch Your Masterclass page, which features a pitching form. Add details for yourself/your client, what are you pitching - a one-day workshop or three-hour session, for example, and include your bio – do flag up if you have lecturing experience, and if you have a particularly sizable following on social media.
The Times has followed suit and now runs masterclasses and courses via its website. Allyson Stewart-Allen, CEO of International Marketing Partners, has run one on personal branding, designer and maker Nicole Akong has hosted a session on dressmaking, while Lucy Gough regularly leads workshops on styling your home.
'I was tortured and sexually harassed' - former Myanmar political prisoners speak out about life in jail
Copyright: Bartosz Hadyniak
With 275 political prisoners including the two Reuters journalists accused of obtaining state secrets still behind bars in Myanmar, in 2018 I spoke to several women who were locked away for their activism in the former military-controlled state
“I was handcuffed and blindfolded with a hood over me and made to sit on my knees for 10 days,” recalls San San Ma, rewinding the clock back to March 2008 when the activist was arrested by the then military-ruled government for political crimes such as housing revolutionary soldiers and students.
“As soon as I was arrested I was sent to a military intelligence office that was famous for brutality,” she says. San San Ma, now 45, was interrogated for more than a month, each time in complete darkness.
“They sexually harassed me. I had to kneel for many hours and crawl on little rocks – if they were angry they would beat me. They were trying to make me confess but I never did.”
The beatings only stopped when she started to fall ill. “I was vomiting blood so then they called a doctor. He realised how tortured I was and requested that they stop it - and to give me food.”
The harrowing torture ended but she was sent to a special military court, known for its harsher sentences, than a standard civil court. There she was sentenced to 65 years in jail; the same as her husband.
“There were a lot of unfair charges,” she tells me in a humid small office of a human rights organisation in Yangon. “But when I was younger my grandmother always used to say, 'politics is about time. Next time it is someone else's time. Now you win, tomorrow you will lose'. I totally believed that, that's why I managed to stay calm in prison.”
The sentence devastated her family. She quietly explains that when her mother found out she was being sent to the infamous Insein Prison in Yangon, “she passed out”, and died shortly afterwards.
San San Ma saw her husband, living on other side of the prison, for 20 minutes every two weeks. They were both released after six years as part of a prisoner amnesty.
Myanmar has a long history of jailing political activists. Even now, two years after Aung San Suu Kyi and the National League for Democracy (NLD) took control, the government has continued to arrest and imprison people who speak out against the regime. Reuters journalists Wa Lone and Kyaw Soe Oo were imprisoned for seven years in September after reporting on the Rohingya crisis.
When military intelligence officers turned up to arrest Kyi Kyi Htay in 2000 for aiding opposition political groups, she swore to her husband that she wouldn't confess anything. As a result, the then 34-year-old endured days of brutal torture. “I couldn't even pee,” she says. “They hit that part of the body, it was so brutal. Each officer would get half an hour each to ask me questions and then beat me. Once their session was finished, they would go back to sleep. I was so tired and would fall asleep sometimes but whenever I feel asleep, they would beat me to wake me up and throw water at me.”
She lost count of how many days she was tortured for but her silence saved lives.
“I didn't confess anything. That way it meant I could save 12 people from going to prison for 10 to 15 years,” she says. “I was beaten up a lot as I didn't share any information. Another guy I knew who had also been arrested gave away some information so they knew I was lying but I made it.”
By the time she was imprisoned – for 15 years for crimes such as communicating with blacklisted organisations – her body was swollen from the continual beatings. But life in the notorious Insein prison, known for its unsanitary and inhumane living conditions, on the outskirts of Yangon was unbearable.
“I cried a lot when I arrived at prison,” recalls Kyi Kyi Htay, who at 12 helped send secret letters between people in opposition groups throughout her village. “It was so dirty. The sheets were so dirty and smelly. You were not allowed to read. You couldn't communicate with your family.” There were no dedicated toilets for in-mates. “You had to use a container and throw it [in a bag] every time. I couldn't bear it anymore. I was depressed there. But I didn't have any regrets because I was doing the right thing.”
After leaving, many former political prisoners face long-term impact such as difficulties finding work and mental health issues.
Galuh Wandita, director of Asia Justice and Rights (AJAR), a human rights organisation which published a report earlier this year on the lives of women survivors of conflict and oppression including political prisoners in Yangon, says the experience of arrest and detention deeply disrupted the education and livelihoods of women. “Many women were arrested as students in the 1980s and 1990s. With many universities closed in the 1990s, these women often had no schools to return to after their release. Most had to abandon their educations.
Imprisonment also had devastating impacts on the economic situation of female political prisoners and their families. Detainees’ families have faced constant surveillance and were often forced to close their businesses. This pushed many political prisoners and their families into poverty. Following their release family members often exerted great pressure on women to give up their political activities and focus on supporting the families economic survival. Some women faced marital difficulties while others were forced to rely on relatives for their survival.”
Kyi Kyi Htay who lived in the notorious prison for nine years until she was released in 2009, says life on the outside has been challenging. “I had no clothes to wear. I didn't have any place to stay. I stayed with my cousin's family. Financially I've not been ok – I've not been able to get a job. I cannot even apply for a job. No companies or organisations want to employ me because I was a political prisoner.”
Unfortunately she was unable to slide back into family life.
“I went back to my home town but my little daughter didn't remember me.” She says, sadly, that she is no longer with her husband. “My husband's family didn't want him to be with me. They feel their son was in prison because of me - he follows what his family says.” Her daughter lives with her ex husband in Yangon.
San San Ma says that once she and her husband were released they encountered multiple issues. They could no longer return home because the authorities had seized it. While they set to be initially housed by her brother-in-law, he received a call from friends telling him it was unsafe to house former political prisoners. “So even after a few hours we were on the road again, luckily one of our friends brought us to their house outside of Yangon.”
She says mental and physical health issues have made it even more difficult to find work. Her husband found a job as an editor as a local newspaper but problems arising from being beaten up meant he needed to lie down in bed for as much as 20 hours a day for several months. “His right eye was beaten up so much, he couldn't work on his writing so much.”
San San Ma decided to open a small grocery store. “But when my husband got sick, I got depressed, and was in bed for eight months. My little daughter working at a garment factory was dependent on me.” She now relies on her husband who earns 200,000 kwat (£101) a month from his job researching and writing articles.
Seeking justice, the women urge the government to recognise their suffering and that the perpetrators apologise, says Wandita.
“There is unfortunately still a lack of governmental recognition or support for former political prisoners,” says Wandita. “The government has not yet accepted a definition of political prisoner, and has quashed efforts to put the topic on the agenda for parliamentary debate.”
She believes that women political prisoners need specialised services that deal with health, trauma, and economic empowerment. “They need assistance, access to basic services, and psychosocial support to address the consequences of violence, and to help them get back on their feet. There needs to be schemes for job creation, vocational training, and micro-finance assistance in order to increase survivors' access to livelihood and capital.”
Kyi Kyi Htay wishes she could slot the missing jigsaw pieces of her life back together again. “I feel so sad. I lost everything. I have given everything and lost everything for what I'm passionate about. I am jobless, but I have friends and I travel around. But I never regret it as I was doing it for the people.”
Looking ahead, she wants systematic change. “We have a situation where people and families have split up and sacrificed their lives and opportunities. Now the government is open and the NLD has gained power...they should take responsibility, admit what they’ve done and apologise for it. It's assumed to be a transparent time in Myanmar but it's not happening. I don't want anything for myself, I just want my country to change.”
Article written in 2018.
Don't Contact Journalists This Way
Photo by Mika Baumeister on Unsplash
Hi everyone
How do you feel about WhatsApp? Personally, I have a love/hate relationship with the platform. The upshot, of course, is that it's a brilliant way to quickly chat and ping pictures to friends and family, but on the other hand who doesn't get that sinking feeling when you're added to yet another group?
I bring up WhatsApp as the other day the founder of a business I'd featured in an article WhatsApped me at 6am. Yes, that's right. 6am. I'm just very grateful (for him and me) it didn't wake me up.
The founder had originally been in touch with me over email yet he caught my number at the bottom of my signature and started WhatsApping - asking about pictures, another time asking when the article would be published. I did say to him it would be better to email but still the messages came through.
There was never any reason to bring the conversation onto another (non-work) platform. But this isn't the first time this has happened. I'll often receive WhatsApp messages from PRs when the conversation should have stayed on email. I check my emails regularly enough (probably far too much) and in none of the cases has there ever warranted an urgent need to message me.
For me, and I believe most journalists would nod their heads in agreement on this, from a PR perspective WhatsApp isn't the right platform to converse with journalists on. That is what email is there for.
So my advice is: stick to email (if that wasn't clear enough). Unless a journalist wants you to WhatsApp them, you're pals with a journalist, or you're already working with them on something urgent and it's impossible to get through to them by all other means (and you've tried their email, calling and voicemail).
I know it's not always possible, but some people try to keep their work and personal life separate and jumping into their WhatsApp messages could be overstepping boundaries.
Have a great rest of the week.
Thanks
Susie
This Is The Most Common Question Asked In My Webinars
Photo by Mattias Diesel on Unsplash
Hi everyone
I hope you're managing as well as can be.
The number one question I'm now asked on my webinars or during one of my Power Hours is, “are journalists interested in non-coronavirus stories?” We can all understand why this is a popular question. The C-word continues to dominate the media. Whether it's news of another lockdown and the impact on our mental health or on businesses, or news of the latest changes to the furlough scheme or the self-employment grant, it's still the hottest topic across the globe. Of course, people still want to consume – and editors still want – stories related to Covid-19. Whether we like it or not, it remains the biggest news item worldwide.
However, there's still plenty of room for non-Covid stories. In recent days we've had the election, Johnny Depp losing his libel battle against The Sun and ex-wife Amber Heard, and Dominic West's tryst with Lily James making the front pages. But don't worry if you don't have an A-lister or a politician at hand to help you secure press coverage. When I recently pitched an editor with a few stories, including one related to Covid 19, he stressed that they were trying to keep the feature pages corona-free. With the news section still dominated by coronavirus pieces, the paper wanted to keep readers entertained and enlightened with other things going on in the world. I get it. Even as a journalist, there have been times when I can't face reading yet another story about Covid-19 and I do wonder how much we need a daily countdown of every country's rate of infection and number of deaths.
Against all this doom and gloom, editors want positive story ideas landing in their inbox. In the past week, I've reported on two non-Covid and hopeful stories. For the i, I wrote about the people committed to giving away a substantial amount of their income to effective charities whilst I covered the rise of bartering and sharing economy for the Guardian.
If you look hard enough, you'll see positive stories everywhere (and pitching positive stories is just one of the pieces of advice in my 17 Insider Tips On How to Pitch Journalists During Coronavirus - now just £5 from £19.99 originally). Now as the UK enters Lockdown: The Sequel, it's still as relevant as ever.
Have a great rest of the week,
Susie
What Would I Advise Someone Looking To Enter Journalism Now?
Earlier this month I received a message on Instagram from a 16-year-old who had spotted me on her college's alumni page. She wanted to know how I had made the move into journalism. Given the personal connection and recalling the lack of opportunities and career inspiration when I was 16, I responded asking if she had availability that evening as I'd give her a call.
She confessed she was nervous. Of course, she didn't need to be. But I was once a shy 16-year-old and even years later I can still remember how nerve-wracking it was making calls when I was starting off in journalism. We spoke for about 30 minutes and during that call, I laid bare the reality of journalism today: how the industry is having a torrid time, with many magazines closing their doors, and that it's really really difficult to survive - many fantastic journalists are being forced to leave the sector, or if they're freelance, they're holding down so-called portfolio careers.
But of course, I didn't want to be overly pessimistic. I wouldn't want to push someone completely away from a career that they have a deep desire to explore. Knowing what I know today, would I have chosen a different path and not entered journalism? No. I still think it's a brilliant, interesting, and varied career, and one that I'd still have a good stab at. Yes, I'd love a career with more money and security, but the world still needs journalism (more than ever) and if you understand the almighty challenges ahead (and are ready to accept other jobs on the side like content marketing and teaching), then go for it, I say. It's not like my parents' generation where you stick to one job; you can always slide into another industry if need be.
Over the course of the half-hour, I shared tips with her, including stepping up your tech skills (especially video) and standing out on work experience. I applauded her for using her initiative to contact me. For scouting me out online and sending a message demonstrated key skills needed for a career in journalism.
One Small Way To Build Relationships With Journalists Right Now
Hi everyone
Just a quick newsletter as I write this from the picturesque moors outside of Conwy in north Wales where I'm wild camping for the night.
I know many people are wondering how to build relationships with journalists during these strange times, given the opportunity for face-to-face contact has fallen off a cliff since start of the pandemic.
But you don't need to have had coffee after coffee or cocktail after cocktail with a journalist to consider yourselves to have a strong relationship. There are many people working in comms and founders of businesses that I have a great relationship with – and are my go-to for case studies and experts – who I have never met in person. How to achieve that features heavily in my course and webinars but I'll just give a recent example of how you can slowly get on that path.
After an article I wrote appeared in the Guardian on Saturday, one of the people I featured emailed me first thing in the morning to thank me for including him, telling me he was thrilled with being included and had shared the piece with his family. It obviously meant a lot for him to be in the paper and him sharing how it had made his day was a lovely way to start the morning, especially as the van we had hired had broken down on Junction 21 of the M1 the night before, leaving us stranded on the emergency lane for three hours. That's another story. But the expert's kind words and obvious gratitude to email me first thing on Saturday highlights how relationships can be started and nurtured even in this digital age by a simple and easy 'thank you'.
Enjoy the rest of the week and the upcoming weekend,
Susie
Why We All Need To Be More Sensitive During These Torrid Times
Photo by AbsolutVision on Unsplash
Journalism was already taking a battering pre-Coronavirus and now, with fewer companies advertising and people not venturing to the shops as frequently, we're seeing the industry face an even graver threat to its future.
Last week Buzzfeed announced it was shelving its UK and US operations, Conde Nast revealed it was reducing its headcount by 100 while the Guardian said it was closing its dating arm, Guardian Soulmates (although this is largely influenced by changes in the dating market). While there's no doubt some publications focused on cooking, gardening and home are enjoying a rise in sales, overall it's a torrid time for the industry. Here in the UK quite early on we saw City AM close its print edition temporarily and the London Evening Standard reduce its distribution.
Against this backdrop, it's worth remembering that many journalists may have been furloughed, lost their jobs or seen their workload shoot through the roof as they take on their ex colleagues' work.
Many freelance journalists have lost work as a result of the pandemic. Personally a regular Guardian slot of my mine has gone (but will hopefully return) whilst across freelance journalist Facebook groups my peers are quite rightly concerned about the future as commissions drastically fall.
Although there are still plenty of opportunities for PRs and founders, for many freelancers, there are less places to pitch to. It's just something worth noting when you're pitching. It's a point made in my ebook as some journalists complained about getting chased needlessly at the peak of the coronavirus. Recently someone emailed me three times in a week regarding a pitch for a product I wouldn't usually cover.
There can be upshots to waiting. A piece I pitched the Metro in April was responded to – and commissioned – without prompt, two weeks later.
Oh, and some good news, for those who haven't seen it already. The Federation of Small Businesses (FSB) and newspaper group DMGT have joined forces to give away £3m worth of advertising space.
If you're looking for ways to improve your press coverage, I'm running two webinars this month. If you can't make it, the webinars will still be sent to your inbox afterwards for you to view for the next three months.
Have a great week,
Susie