On the street bike, part 2

Originally published in the Aug. 31 issue of the Mile Zero News. This one’s for Grandpa.

Two weeks ago a very exciting package arrived at the office via Purolator. Quite normally I receive small packages from my family in Ontario at the office, but this box was quite a bit larger and so I knew it could only be one thing – my new bike gear. For people who know me well, I’m not sure they’d be able to picture me in a motorcycle jacket, helmet and gloves ready to hop on a street bike. However, in getting to know a whole new group of people as well as their hobbies, I’ve been encouraged to try something new.

Until last week I had only ever rode as a passenger on a motorcycle on my grandpa’s cruiser. Growing up with a motorcycle-riding grandpa meant that when grandpa showed up on his bike, we would take special trips to the coffee shop for a donut (that we weren’t allowed to tell grandma about). During our ride to the coffee shop, we could also expect to listen to classical or gospel music through the sound system hooked up through our helmets.

After last week’s ride on this friend’s bike, all I have to say is riding on grandpa’s bike is an experience worlds apart from riding as the passenger on a street bike. My grandpa’s bike has a sheep-skin padded seat with arm rests that I can comfortably ride in. The street bike required me to get as low as possible, have my legs propped up on the pegs, and position my head in just the right spot in order to avoid wind turbulence between my helmet and the driver’s helmet.

 While riding with grandpa, we would cruise around the back roads, check out the scenic areas he grew up in, and carry a conversation through our miked helmets. Riding on the street bike meant I needed to be prepared for the bike to keep accelerating and concentrate on moving with the bike – not leaning too far one way or the other and remaining perfectly still. Conversation is also out of the picture, unless you count the way I squeezed my driver’s side in a slightly nervous way. My life was in his hands and there was nothing I could do but trust that we would make it back to our doorsteps without a scratch.

Don’t get me wrong, riding on the street bike was a lot of fun and now that I have most of my gear, I hope to get on the bike a few more times – before the weather gets much colder.

A slower pace in the north

While at a recent news event I was speaking to another local journalist who is also from Ontario. He and I discussed the opportunities the north had afforded us as well as some of the differences between the places we grew up and where we are living now. One thing that baffled us both was that print journalism is still, much to our benefit, alive and well in the north. 

We both agreed our own preference is multimedia journalism. Twitter accounts, website updates, blog posts and videos is where, we were told at our schools, people prefer to get their information. A new journalist must not only be a good wordsmith, he or she must also multitask well and be well versed in technology – lest that new journalist be left behind. 

While the paper this other journalist works for does have a website, we do not. However, he admitted with a hint of perplexity, that his paper’s website receives very few hits. People are still subscribing to the newspaper. 

In a world where newspaper subscriptions have declined sharply in the last four or five years as digital media continues to climb to the top of popular culture, why is it that the newspapers in the north are prevailing? Furthermore, in a world where newspaper advertising is at 1985 levels, why are our northern newspapers successful? 

The journalism world is full of people who have a dooms day attitude about newspapers. One of my university professors recently posted a link on his Facebook account that led me to a blog post about how a newspaper company can become a digital first company. As a media professional, it was an intriguing read. 

The author writes, “Our traditional journalism models and our journalistic efforts are inefficient and up against the Crowd – armed with mobile devices and internet connections – incomplete. Our response to date as an industry has been as equally inefficient and in many cases emotional.” 

What he means here is that many journalism professionals who are 35 or older, with more than seven or so years experience are often hesitant to move into the digital world. They claim newspaper readers will remain faithful, that they like the feel of paper between their fingers. The readers will not give up on the old technology. 

But statistics prove otherwise. The number of people who are attached to the feel of paper are waning, while the number of people who want to read the news on tablets, smart phones and computers are growing by the minute. Take the Peace River School Division (PRSD) as an example. They have passed a policy that will allow students to use new technology in the classrooms as learning aids. These students are going to grow up used to reading things electronically, writing on a key pad instead of with paper and pencil. 

So now, why are the newspapers in the north surviving – and for how much longer?

The only explanation I have is that things are slower in the north, and slower is not all bad. In small towns such as ours, young people have to be creative about entertainment. High speed Internet access is not available to everyone and being online for several hours a day is not practical. Even my friends who have smart phones don’t use them like my friends and colleagues in Toronto. Sure, they’re texting non-stop but they’re not searching for videos, using Twitter or receiving daily updates on news stories. While this makes hanging out with friends a little more personal and less electronic, it’s indicative of the pace in the north. Things are just a little bit slower, but not stagnant. 

In the last year I’ve noticed little things, like a less expansive recycling program, a total lack of a composting program, smaller libraries, and fewer WiFi hot spots than in Ontario. However, in the last year I’ve also noticed a gradual increase in the use of technology such as the PRSD’s technology plan for schools, more businesses are online, and residents say high speed access is improving in the rural areas. 

Change may not have hit the north quite as quickly as it did the more urban areas of our province and country, but that’s not to say it’s not coming. 

So I ask, how can print journalism survive in the north without embracing the digital movement?

Just a little Dutch pride

Amanda and I displaying our Dutch Pride, 2007

From the Sept. 7 issue of the Mile Zero News.

I grew up in a town where everyone, including my family, was from the Netherlands and words like doekie were common, dropjes were a delicious candy, and croquettes were a staple at Christmas and New Years. Now I have to ask my parents to send me dropjes (salty-black licorice) in the mail, I still enjoy a croquette or two while I am visiting in Ontario in December, but I have to stop myself from asking my friends where the doekie is, instead of asking for the dish cloth.

While I was growing up I used to think that I could only be happy as a reporter if I were always on my way to doing something bigger and better. I have also always been a family person and knew that one day I’d want a family of my own. While in school, I was told having a family and a successful career as a journalist were two dreams that, most simply put, did not jive.

However, the longer I work the more I realize that success, at least according to me, comes from realizing personal goals in addition to earning the respect and support of the community the paper serves. The older I get, the more clearly I’m able to see how my two dreams might eventually align.

Recently I read an article published in a Macleans magazine titled, “How Dutch women got to be the happiest in the world.” Not only was this article incredibly interesting to me as a Dutch-Canadian, but it helped further solidify my own definition of success. The research claimed women living in the Netherlands were happier because they lived lives balanced between working and being at home. About 75 per cent of women working in the Netherlands are employed part time. It’s important to note that choosing to work less is possible in the Netherlands because of a multitude of social program that make supporting a family on one full-time income possible.

The article explains that these findings upset feminists across the world. The feminists wondered how Dutch women could turn their backs on the fight our mothers before us fought in order that we might have the chance to chase a corporate dream.

One woman was quoted in the article saying, “Perhaps [Dutch women] are happy because they don’t feel guilty for falling short of perfection. We are torn to shreds between the American and the Mediterranean models of womanhood. On one hand, we are boardroom feminists expecting equality of expectation and outcome. On the other, we are matriarchs, wanting to run model kitchens and walk through meadows with bands of children.”

I re-posted the link to this article online and a number of dutch female friends left comments instantly. None of my friends grew up in the Netherlands, we’re all second or third generation Dutch-Canadians; but somehow, the values of our grandparents or parents have managed to fight through those of north-american feminists and remain strong through the younger generations. We may work more than our counterparts still living in the Netherlands, but I think we continue to think the same way and have many of the same desires.

I may be biased, but I think the Dutch might be on to something. For now, I’ll finish this thought by leaving you with another quote from the same article.

“Maybe this will turn out to be the fourth wave of feminism. Women protect the possibility that one day we’ll wake up and realize that life is not all about acquiring more material wealth, power, status. Many Dutch women that I know want to stay sane, happy, relaxed.”