Amid declining newspaper circulations and the financial woes of once seemingly-untouchable media giants, a super-focused type of journalism known as hyperlocal has emerged as a bright spot in the industry’s cloudy future. While the movement has been around for nearly a decade, the continuing evaporation of small town newspapers and the squeezing of newsrooms big and small has created a void for readers and advertisers in the local market, which has increased focus in recent years on the importance and perhaps necessity of a hyperlocal presence. Case in point: this past year saw several well-established media companies as well as start-ups dip their toes (or dive head first, in some cases) into the hyperlocal pool.

An obvious argument for the creation of hyperlocal sites is to provide information for those in the community that have lost the town/village-specific news that was once provided by a now-defunct city or regional paper. On the business side of things, hyperlocal creates ad space for those mom and pop stores and local businesses that also lost an advertising outlet with the folding of the local paper. But is the revenue there to support a hyperlocal presence? Jeff Jarvis, journalist and hyperlocal champion, thinks so. (Full-disclosure: Jarvis is on the Editorial Advisory Board of my employer, Patch.com). He has developed several business models that point towards the profitability of hyperlocal journalism. As the hyperlocal path continues to be paved, will “old” media companies bend to these new models? And will they do it in time to stay afloat?

In theory, last-hired, first-fired seems an effective way to honor longtime commitment from employees.

In practice, for Generation J age journalists, it sucks.

A recent APME survey found that younger journalists are the largest group leaving newsrooms right now. Sometimes it’s buyouts and attrition, but many times it is simply layoffs. I was one, and I know others.

There are two factors that come into play here.

1. TO OUR ADVANTAGE:  Young journalists are considered best situated to survive staff cuts because we tend to be willing to take on so much work, we adapt easily to changing technology, and we’re cheap. In order to protect your job, you do as many things as you can, do them well, and be sure that managers know of your accomplishments. Cross-train in other newsroom roles if you can.

2. WORKING AGAINST US: The other factor is the bean-counter problem. You can be immensely valuable to the newsroom because of the qualities I just listed. But the person making the layoff decisions doesn’t know about that or give a damn; to them you are just a salary number to meet a requirement. In that case, your safety is no longer guaranteed. I was trained in five different newsroom roles. It didn’t matter.

The survey notes major problems with the loss of younger talent: Gen J tends to be more in sync with new technology, and brings innovative ideas for the future of news. Any time that you disproportionately cut part of your staff, you hurt the diversity of your newsroom. Finally, as older journalists begin to retire, if we lay off and disillusion too many young ones, who will be left to report the news?

There is one bright light, however: The APME survey found that minority journalists were not being disproportionately affected. Early speculation on massive job cuts had implied that minorities would have the most to lose, but that seems to not be the case.

Have the survey results proven accurate in your newsroom?

What have you done to protect your job?

Yes, I have done it. I’m the unicorn: the person who has been job hunting for three months, but turned down a job offer. I didn’t do it because I felt it was beneath me or out of any other inflated sense of self. The position, a staff writer at a small Ohio newspaper, was great for a person just starting out in the field, but it wasn’t great for me. But until I received the phone call offering me the position, I never considered refusing a job.

I’m not new to job hunting. After graduating from college in 2007, interviews were hard to come by. Waiting tables to pay the bills and living with Mom and Dad to save on rent was getting old. I applied and was accepted to Ohio University’s master of journalism program, and spent a year learning more about the industry, writing, and, most importantly, myself. But when my program ended this spring, I was on the prowl for a job. Again.

I’ve applied to dozens, maybe hundreds, of jobs, but the search has been going quite differently this time. I’m getting responses and—gasp!—interviews. It all started when I responded to a vaguely worded opening on JournalismJobs.com. The paper’s name was never mentioned, and when I received a phone call for an interview, I found myself frantically searching my email’s “sent” box for any possible matches. The publisher was a nice person and, after an impromptu phone interview, asked me for a face-to-face meeting. The scheduling was tight. I had an interview in upstate New York the day after the paper’s requested date, but I agreed to a Wednesday meeting and set out for the tiny hamlet.

First, I will mention a few good things about the paper. It would’ve offered me a chance to learn about newspapers, an industry I knew nothing about. I had spent my studies immersed in magazine writing and public relations, and talking about newspapers felt like talking about a cousin that lives in another state—you know about them and you like them, but you’re not very close.

However, the second I saw the place, I knew it wasn’t for me. The offices were small and running an older operating system, one that I wasn’t trained on. The hours were unconventional; I was used to a demanding schedule, but erratic hours weren’t something I had anticipated. The pay was low and the galling possibility that I might have to borrow money from my parents to cover expenses would never be far off. Saving would be tough. They wanted to know if I could simplify my writing style. I began to fear not obtaining enough clips that I considered worthwhile.

To many what I am describing sounds like a typical first-job scenario. Erratic hours, low pay, and a location that is not ideal can be par for the course to cub reporters. But the fact is that I was not excited about it. I have endless respect and affection for newspapers, but my heart is not in writing them.

I opted for the “Band-Aid” one-motion method. I made one of the most awkward phone calls of my life. The publisher was gracious, and it went as smoothly as possible. I am still searching for a position, but I am confident that something will come my way. I do not regret my decision. It was a part of an education that started in 2007 and is still going on.

Three years ago, The Indianapolis Star recruited me away from a midsize daily in Florida. In July… “Your position has been eliminated.”

I was on vacation, driving down I-20 in South Carolina with my mom and dad, when my cell phone rang. I recognized the work number and knew that it was over. The person who had to actually make the call was the head of the newsroom, assisted by an HR rep who sounded way too perky to have spent her day firing good employees.

I am proud to say I did not cry. At least not in front of anyone in management. I started texting my coworkers to thank them and say it was an honor to work with them. Thinking about my nightside teammates and how much I’d miss them, emotions bubbled up.  My parents got to hear me scream an expletive about Gannett before I bawled my eyes out in the car. While I spent the next two days apologizing for my language, they simply hugged me in support.

Getting laid off by phone sucks, no lie. But being away from the office helped me in so many ways. Rather than sitting alone at home questioning my worth after the layoff, I was surrounded by family members who love me unconditionally. I got home-cooked meals and desserts. Mom and I went shopping for some interview clothes. I delayed my flight home and visited with old friends. I played tourist in cities I’d always known but never appreciated from another perspective. It was incredibly refreshing.

Not to imply that I didn’t work to find work. I stayed up to job hunt online while my family went to bed, and ran up my cell phone bill calling past bosses for advice.

Two weeks after the layoff, I went back to the office to get my things. I had more than a suitcase full of editing reference books, family photos and snacks in my desk. Lugging that is tough work, even harder in heels and a suit. But dammit, I wore heels and a suit. For me, dressing up gives me a boost. If I look good, I feel good. And I had confidence in each step as I walked into the HR office to psych out the rep who’d fired me. I walked out of that building with my head held high. For some reason, I was smiling. I had taken control of the situation. I had reframed the issue: I did not leave the paper; the paper left me. I was valuable. I was awesome. It was their loss.

A month later, I was moving into a windowed office with my name outside the door. I’m proud to be a member of Ball State’s journalism faculty.

Layoffs are a mental game.  I’m pretty sure I won.

Young journalists confront burnout
‘No easy answers, no secret potion or pill,’ speaker says
By Emory Williamson

Aiesha Little’s hair was falling out in her early 20s.

Working long hours, Little said she felt burned out from her work as a reporter at an upstate New York daily newspaper.

“That’s my stressor,” she said. “That’s when I know I’ve been driving myself too hard.”

Little’s case is not an exception, however, as a Saturday panel discussion titled “Beating Burnout” highlighted issues of journalists feeling overworked and unsatisfied in their newsrooms.

Read the rest here.

Thanks to Sonya Smith, Isha Cogborn, Renee Petrina, and Scott Reinardy for an awesome discussion! Let’s start thinking of Gen J-specific ideas right now to make the Las Vegas convention an even bigger success!

Thomas Fiedler, dean of the College of Communication at Boston University (formerly executive editor at the Miami Herald):

“A lot of journalism programs are shifting emphasis toward technology with a multi-platform curriculum. There’s a danger in that. If everyone is going left, we want to not so much go right. [But] the essence of good journalism is good storytelling, and the heart of good storytelling is good writing.”

What do you think of this statement? If you’re still in school, does what you’re being taught  confirm or contradict this? Gen Jers, how do you think your collegiate training prepared you for your first or second job?