The Connection September 2016

The Connection is the newsletter of the Science and Medical Journalism Program at the UNC Hussman School of Journalism and Media.

 

Detroit and the Shetland Islands: Two distant places in search of a common story

By: Alasdair Wilkins

What do Detroit and the Shetland Islands have in common? The cop-out answer is that the Motor City and that island chain hundreds of miles north of Scotland are the two subjects of my master’s thesis, but that just sets up the next question: What could possibly connect those two locales, distant both from each other and from Chapel Hill, and how could science journalism possibly unite them? What brings them together is a common story of depopulation and abandonment, of the interactions between people and their environment. After weeks of on-site filming -- plus well over 10,000 miles’ worth of driving, flying, and ferrying to my chosen locations – I’ve put the finishing touches on a pair of short documentaries exploring these stories. Detroit’s situation is well-known: A half-century ago, the city’s population was just shy of two million, but the economic collapse of the city’s automotive industry led to a mass exodus, and today the city is home to about a third of its peak population. 

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The Detroit-based nonprofit Motor City Blight Busters secures abandoned and potentially hazardous buildings like this one. Photo credit: Alasdair Wilkins

The particular story I’ve explored in the Shetland Islands is that of the Broo settlement, a small farming community on the southern tip of Shetland’s main island that was inundated by sand in the late 17th century. This slow-motion environmental catastrophe ultimately forced the Broo site’s inhabitants out of their sand-covered homes. Only now are researchers, primarily from Bates College in Maine, beginning to explore in depth the archaeology, history, and geology of this site.

The idea for this thesis project came together late last year. Otherwise, I’m sure I wouldn’t have gone to Detroit in February or Shetland in December, when the sun rises at 9:30 in the morning and sets by 3:45 in the afternoon. I wanted to explore an environmental story for my thesis, and I discovered a paper by Wilfred Laurier University researcher Robert McLeman on settlement abandonment in the context of global environmental change. His paper briefly touched on Detroit as an example of partial abandonment, one whose huge tracts of vacant land made it an intriguing test case for urban agriculture. The Broo site only made the paper as an entry in an attached spreadsheet on various examples of abandonment.

The Detroit story wasn’t meant to be a miserablist tour through urban ruin, but rather a more complex tale of potential renewal in the face of massive structural challenges. The people I interviewed are working to remove blight, institute recycling programs, develop green jobs, grow crops, and examine links between the environment and social justice -- a topic that has gained national attention in the wake of the water crisis in nearby Flint. 

The Shetland story, by contrast, looked at what role historical climate change might have played in the fate of the Broo site. Sand buried the site during what was known as the Little Ice Age, a period of global cooling in which severe storms were more common and could have played a role in breaking down dunes and blowing sand inland. Although the Broo site has dropped out of the Shetlanders’ historical consciousness, the locals -- including Alison “The Flea” Duncan, who took me on an impromptu trek through muddy fields to the Broo site -- have a fine-grained knowledge of how to live in their rugged, windswept home.

And so perhaps that connection people form with their environments points to the real answer to that initial question of what Detroit and the Shetland Islands have in common. For very different reasons -- economic collapse in one case, environmental challenges in the other -- both places exist at the limits of human habitability, and both have seen people abandon their homes when it seemed impossible to stay. But those who stay are, by definition, the most resilient and the most committed to making life in these places work. There’s a reason one Shetlander observed that the islands are “in my bones,” and more than one interview subject in Detroit proudly shared they were “Detroit, born and raised.”

To view Alasdair’s two master’s video projects, click here for the Detroit story and here for the Shetland Island story.

Science journalism students explore North Carolina from a state-spanning trail to a vast sand dune

By: Alasdair Wilkins

For the fourth year, the UNC science and medical journalism program continued its collaboration with North Carolina Public Television (UNC-TV) and North Carolina State Parks to produce a pair of five-minute video pieces exploring environmental issues in the state. This year’s reports told two very different stories. The first dealt with the process of building the Mountains-to-Sea Trail, a multi-decade project to connect trails from the Great Smoky Mountains to the Outer Banks. The second piece focused on efforts of local activists in the 1970s to prevent development on Jockey’s Ridge, the largest sand dune in the Eastern United States. The teams included students from throughout the university filling the roles of producer, associate producer, and scriptwriter. Writing the scripts for the two teams were undergraduates Brooke Benson, who worked on the Mountains-to-Sea Trail piece, and Taylor Nawrocki, who worked on the Jockey’s Ridge story. They shared their class experiences with us.

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 Students Mary Wangen and Brooke Benson interview Kate Dixon, the executive director for the Friends of the Mountains-to Sea-Trail. Photo Credit: Mike Oniffrey

What was the most compelling thing you discovered about your story as you reported on it?

Brooke: What I found to be most evocative about the Mountains-to-Sea Trail is the degree to which grassroots efforts have been able to propel the project forward. It’s not very often that you see such a mammoth, ambitious project come to fruition as a result of community-level involvement. The evident passion and commitment of the volunteers created an enthusiasm for the MST that, even as a reporter, I couldn’t resist. It was kind of mind boggling to see all the little puzzle pieces that have to come together.

Taylor: It was wonderful to see a story about a state park transform into a story about perseverance, community, and memory. Discovering the grassroots background of Jockey's Ridge and the almost legend-like status of Carolista [the activist who led the effort to turn Jockey’s Ridge into a state park] was by far the most fascinating part of the story unfolding.

What was the most surprising thing you learned about the process of making a five-minute story?

Taylor: Despite the deceiving length, I was surprised by the amount of time and energy could be expended on creating a five-minute piece.

Brooke: Without a doubt, the most surprising aspect for me was realizing that revising a story can, theoretically, be a never-ending process. We spent months crafting a five-minute script. While the story was certainly “good” by month two, it was immeasurably better by month three. Even now, I’m certain that if I were to sit back down with the final script, I could spend hours tweaking it towards perfection. Since one could spend an eternity revising the story and the way in which it’s told, the biggest challenge is crafting the best piece possible in the time that you’ve got.

How did taking a science/medical journalism fit in with or add to your primary studies at UNC?

Taylor: I am a Comparative Literature major, so my studies are generally more idea and discussion-based. This course enhanced my studies at UNC by allowing me to have hands-on experience with creating, interviewing, and story building, which are tools that I would like to use in the future.

Brooke: I’m an Environmental Studies major and Marine Sciences minor. I’ve taken a handful of journalism courses in my time at UNC because I have an interest in science communication. Though I’m not yet sure whether or not I’ll try to continue science and medical journalism at the graduate level, it’s certainly a career path that I’m considering. Regardless of what I do post-grad, I’ve found the journalism studies to be an invaluable complement to my environmental studies. Many of the environmental issues we face today stem from a lack of public knowledge and involvement. Learning to communicate better with the public is something that someone in most any field of study could benefit from.

What was your favorite experience along the way?

Brooke: Personally, my favorite experience was getting to dip my toes into videography. Before taking MEJO 562 [Science Documentary Television], I had no real experience with it. I didn’t anticipate being able to practice it either, but the whole process was rich with opportunity to try new things. Writing a script was great, field scouting was really fun, and video editing was a novel experience. Still, I was most delighted to have some of my footage make it into the final piece. I’m really thankful that the class had a “go-for-it” atmosphere. It was supremely rewarding to invest so much effort into developing those new skills and to have it tangibly pay off in the final product.

Taylor: My favorite part of the process was getting to hear about intimate memories people have of Jockey's Ridge and the community that surrounds it. Journalism is an opportunity to ask questions that you wouldn't normally get to ask strangers, and offer a platform for people to tell their stories.

Updates from second-year master’s students Yasmin Bendaas and Rossie Izlar

By: Yasmin Bendaas

 

Masters student Yasmin Bendaas documenting the impact of environmental changes on the sheepherding industry in Algeria.

This May I spent about four weeks studying how environmental change is affecting the rural shepherding industry in Algeria. I traveled to the Aurès Mountains, seven hours drive south of Algiers. In this area drought has been ongoing for about 10 years. That’s causing shepherds to dig new wells and rely on more expensive feed and forcing them to have smaller herds. This fieldwork lays the foundation for my master’s thesis project in science journalism and follows an earlier reporting trip to Algeria when I was an undergraduate at Wake Forest University. At that time I studied the disappearing practice of facial tattooing as part of my anthropology research. That trip led to stories I wrote for the Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reportingthe Huffington Post and Al Jazeera.   I’m hopeful the reporting of my environmental project will reach people interested in climate change. In my first year of the master’s program, I’ve gained confidence in script writing, shooting and video editing. As I turn my fieldwork into a thesis project, I’m excited to use my anthropological background to inform my journalism. I’m also eager to tell more stories about Algeria, a country underreported in the media.

 

Masters student Rossie Izlar explains the science behind sunflower seed biofuel. 

 

By: Rossie Izlar

This past year I’ve broadened my reporting abilities by telling different stories using new media. My background is environmental science writing, but through my classes I’ve started reporting on health issues. I’ve tackled stories on sleep deprivation, mental health, aging and emergency medicine. I’ve had illuminating conversations with medical professionals and scientists. The program provides the tools and the mentorship for these relationships and stories to grow. Over the summer I worked with the City of Raleigh’s Office of Sustainability explaining the stories and science behind some of their initiatives, from growing sunflowers for biofuel to geotagging litter in downtown Raleigh.