Pandemic stories: Meet social justice journalist and editorial consultant Carla Murphy
Carla Murphy, social justice journalist and editorial consultant
This is the third installment of my Pandemic Stories series elevating the stories of women during this pandemic. Today, meet Carla Murphy (@carlamurphy), a social justice journalist and editorial consultant in Brooklyn, NY. Carla is also an immigrant from a rural Caribbean village, a first-generation college student, and a graduate of the London School of Economics and the Newmark J-School. In our email Q&A, she calls out how the pandemic has threatened to end women’s journalism careers, as well as the need for an ecosystem of journalism outlets that do reporting for communities of color, as well as low-income and working class communities—not about them for an upper-class, mostly white audience. Carla also offers a window into her daily life right now, complete with birds singing on the fire escape and neighbors taking smoke breaks below her window.
You're active in supporting female journalists, as a member of the Journalism & Women Symposium board of directors and otherwise. What are some specific ways you're seeing the pandemic affect this community?
I’m motivated to advocate for women journalists, specifically young women, (single) mothers, women in local journalism, black and other women of color, and women pursuing journalism without the required cushion of family or spousal subsidy. For these women, the pandemic fallout has either ended or threatens to end their journalism careers. I think a lot about the cost to communities of losing their questions and analysis of what’s happening in our country, now.
I’m seeing women journos seek emotional and mental health coping skills as work-life balance is more out of whack than normal. Some are skeptical that more hacks, how-to’s and tips will help; what I hear is frustration with the tacit expectation that they just need to manage their days better. I’m seeing women journos who want to understand how to manage, or transition into freelancing. I’m seeing women like Sarah Alvarez, Wendi C. Thomas, Candice Fortman, Cierra Brown Hinton, Alicia Bell, Erika Owens, and Sisi Wei, just to name a few, who are pushing for equity, reaffirming journalism’s public service mission and expanding the American narrative. Nikole Hannah-Jones and her 1619 Project is of course the pinnacle. These women are visionaries, not tinkerers, and they deserve support.
Speaking of journalists: There are so many stories that aren't being told about this pandemic. Where are you particularly eager for journalists to turn their attention?
When I was reporting full-time, I used to think that the problem was that stories aren’t being told and that if I simply told the story, I’d be part of the solution. I was naive. I was wrong. Stories are told, but by a narrow swath of journalists who can afford to pursue and advance in journalism. If we enlarge and diversify that band, then we expand the storytelling.
Stories are told, but by a narrow swath of journalists who can afford to pursue and advance in journalism.
I’m eager for an ecosystem of well-funded outlets and journalist-led entities that do reporting for communities of color, low-income and working class communities—not about them for an upper-class, mostly white audience. If the former were the case, we’d see wall-to-wall coverage of the lives of diverse working people. Not one-off’s to highlight a particular policy problem, which, other than a natural disaster, is how working people typically qualify for news coverage.
Right now, we’re seeing lots of data about Covid, which is good of course. But numbers are relatively easy to gather and report. Shoe leather reporting requires expensive training, experience and access. Are we seeing a similar clip of human-centered stories about the ways Covid is upending or changing community life, decision-making, families, etc in our most vulnerable communities? Are we being shown how those communities are coping with so much grief, in addition to everything else?
Now let's talk about you. Where are you quarantining? Help us see, in detail, what you see in your daily life right now.
Most early mornings I hear birdsong coming from my fire escape. That tickles me because when it’s hot out, as it has been, the rest of the day is construction, car and heavy truck horns, the occasional human yell from the street, music blasting from cars and pedestrian bodies, guys noising off their motorbikes. I think folks around here are generally antsy and feeling cooped up, post-lockdown. We’re also coming up on what would’ve been the annual West Indian Day carnival. Flatbush usually parties in the month leading up to j’ouvert.
I’m that old grandma peeping out the kitchen window.
I live on the second floor of a six-story apartment building. Most buildings on my street are red-bricked, built for earlier waves of immigrants from Europe. Mine is maintained as if a deep-cleaning stopped when those immigrants left. I’m just above the green entrance awning, so I’m that old grandma peeping out the kitchen window. Down below, neighbors take cigarette or weed breaks. The same group of women pull out their folding chairs most days. The same group of old men retire under the tree that shades the ringleader’s car.
I really should find out the name of the birds who sing on my fire escape.
Are you quarantining alone, or with others? What benefits do you see in your situation, and what's hard about it? (For example, I'm quarantining with my husband and 8yo daughter. My daughter brings incredible positive energy into our household, but the unending togetherness and work of taking care of her, while also doing paid work, is exhausting and over-stimulating for this introverted writer.)
I live alone. Before the pandemic, every now and then I’d think about meeting a partner with whom to share this life but honestly, it wasn’t always top of mind. I thought I had time and that “it would happen”. I’m less sure since the pandemic, and that insecurity may not be a bad thing. It may motivate me in unexpected ways. One benefit of quarantining alone is that I’m forced to give myself a break. I’m typically tough on myself about my real and perceived shortcomings. Now I’m able to lower the bar in a way that I didn’t before. “Grace’”is a word I use frequently now. I feel it is the only way that I will survive this.
Who is someone who is navigating this pandemic in a way you admire, and why?
I don’t think a pandemic qualifies as a life event where it’s plausible or desirable to admire how well someone is navigating. “Girl, Covid looks good on you today!” Imagine saying that to my cousin who works with the dying elderly in assisted living? My local supermarket cashier? The queue of women I spy weekly from my kitchen window waiting for food from the church pantry? Wealth or coverage of basic human needs for all is the only condition under which a global infectious killer is navigable. I’m quite resentful of those living life as though all is normal. I’m resentful that news media normalized use of the state’s propaganda term, “essential worker” to describe my family members and neighbors. From where I sit, the dissonance between the have’s and have not’s is overwhelming. The extreme cynicism, the selfishness and disregard for the working class and poor in a nation of plenty disgusts me every single day. I don’t think I’m supposed to find a way to be OK with that.
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