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Q:
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What was the genesis of this piece?
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A:
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East Cleveland is a wretchedly poor suburb of Cleveland. When I read that one of the city's football teams had won a 2003 national championship, I wondered how such a desperate city could accomplish that.
I sat down with the director of the East Cleveland Police Athletic League and learned that the Chiefs have been around for 30 years. He told me that every year they scrounge to raise enough money and keep fees affordable for the families.
I decided the best way to tell the story would be to track one of the teams during the 2004 season. I knew I could follow only one of seven teams, so I chose the one with the coach and most returning veterans from the national championship squad. The director of the East Cleveland PAL agreed to the story, but not without reluctance. Police Lieutenant Ralph Spotts, himself a former player, said the Chiefs were one of the few good things left in East Cleveland and that if I trashed it, people would blame him for letting me do the story.
This was my second narrative project. For my first, printed in 2003, I followed a man opening a restaurant.
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Please describe your reporting process. How much is reconstruction and how much were you present for? What sort of research did you do?
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I was there for almost all of it. I missed only one game and I was lucky to work with a photographer who took notes. I had to write about Rick's childhood, of course, which required extensive interviews with him. I also talked to his father.
The only scene I reconstructed was one player's reaction when he learned that his older brother had been arrested in connection with a murder. I interviewed and re-interviewed the coach, the assistant coach, the boy's mother and a team volunteer, all of whom had seen him that morning.
Research was pretty basic. I did a standard background check on the coach, read his divorce file, made sure he was paying child support, talked to the mothers of his children, talked to his high school coach, interviewed numerous mothers of players, visited the homes of players, checked the coach's academic and athletic background, talked to other coaches, etc. I also checked police reports on the crimes I wrote about in the story.
To prime the writing pump, I read Buzz Bissinger's "Friday Night Lights," one of the finest sports books ever written, as well as Madeleine Blais's "In These Girls, Hope is a Muscle" and Jason DeParle's "American Dream: Three Women, Ten Kids and a Nation's Drive to End Welfare."
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What challenges did you encounter during the reporting process?
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The photographer and I are white; everyone else in the story is black. We drew a lot of stares when we started hanging out at the practice field. But once people found out what we were working on and that we were in it for the long haul, everyone was friendly and welcoming.
Though I used to cover welfare reform and social services, I found out I knew less about the African-American community than I thought I knew. I was particularly intrigued by the extended non-traditional families and support systems. I learned that simply because a player referred to someone as an "aunt" or "cousin" didn't mean she was a relative.
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Please describe your process of structuring and writing the piece.
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We were lucky that the football season, from tryouts to the post-season tournament, provided a natural narrative structure. We decided during the reporting that the series should be no more than three days long because we didn't think there was enough suspense to carry it further.
We struggled with how to incorporate into the story the bad things happening in East Cleveland that summer and fall -- mayor convicted of corruption, police layoffs, murders, a failed safety forces levy -- without breaking up the narrative flow. A layout editor had the brilliant idea of putting that news across the top of the inside pages with small black-and-white photos.
During the course of reporting, the story subject shifted from the players to the coach, an extraordinary man who had assumed the role of substitute father for many of the kids. Once written, the story went through five or six rewrites. In addition to my editor, Stuart Warner, I had four or five colleagues I trust read drafts. Their suggestions and criticisms were greatly helpful.
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What sort of reaction did you get to the story? Emails? Phone calls? Response from other media?
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We heard from a lot of people, many of whom wanted to donate to the Chiefs program. A local insurance company executive is interested in sponsoring all seven teams. A number of people wanted to pick up the fees for individual players.
Just as gratifying were the responses from people in East Cleveland who were delighted to read some good news from their community.
A teacher from the city's public high school e-mailed to let us know how proud he and others who volunteered for the city felt.
I was interviewed on our local public radio station on the second day of the series.
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Please include any other comments you think would be interesting to fellow reporters, editors and students of narrative.
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Just two things that seem obvious, but which cannot be underlined enough.
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There is no substitute for spending time with the subjects of the story. Granted, hanging out at practice and playing catch with the boys was not hard duty, but the time invested was invaluable in building trust and relationships that paid off later.
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Surrender your ego. Let writers and colleagues you trust read the drafts. And don't necessarily pick your friends. Show it to people who will be honest. It was tough to have my work criticized, but their suggestions made the story much better.
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