Q&A with Jonece Starr Dunigan and Lasherica Thornton

BY CYNTHIA JOYCE

In separate interviews, these two reporters speak candidly about the specific challenges women of color face in the news industry, covering protests during a pandemic and about how their experiences at the University of Mississippi’s School of Journalism & New Media (SoJNM) prepared them for their careers.

Jonece Starr Dunigan

Lasherica Thornton

Jonece Starr Dunigan (SoJNM Class of 2014) is a reporter for AL.com and the creator of the Black Magic Project, now featured on ReckonSouth.com. She was a Taylor Medalist at the University of Mississippi.

Why did you originally decide to pursue journalism as a career?

I’d wanted to be a journalist since high school because I wanted to write, and I wanted to write well.

When I left Ole Miss in 2014, at the tail end of my senior year, there was a noose that was put on James Meredith’s neck. I think that’s when it really awakened within me that this was the path that I was supposed to be on – to help people realize that all the stuff that’s going on right now has been happening for a very long time.

You wrote recently for AL.com about the way kids are taught history in Alabama. What were some of the most surprising things you learned when reporting that story?

First of all, that the education system is one complicated maze.

That story was part of a Freedom Ways Fellowship [by the organization Press On] that lasted nine months, so I didn’t do anything except research and report on that story for nine months.

When I was doing that story, I was discovering the ways harm was caused not just to Black students, but to all students.

The way one former teacher told me was, when you use a textbook and all it has are white men in it, you don’t have to tell these kids about the racial hierarchy of this world – you’re teaching it to them. You have a predominantly Black classroom, yet you’re already teaching them that they are inferior, below whiteness. And you are already teaching the white kids they are over the Black kids. And so, subtly, you are teaching your classroom racism.

Another thing I found out is the history that wasn’t taught to me. One of the hardest parts of that story was not knowing my own history. I went to Huntsville City Schools, and I wasn’t taught that the first child to integrate Alabama public schools was in Huntsville. Why wasn’t that taught to me? Why was it not taught that during the space race, there was a whole social justice movement happening in Huntsville?

I was learning all of this history about Huntsville that I did not know. I realized that most of our teacher workforce is predominantly white, and it’s been that way for a very long time, a disrespectfully long time, and they don’t know this history, and that’s why it was not being taught to us.

Do you think things have changed much since you were in school?

Do I see changes happening? Yes, I do. I have a lot of faith that the teachers have started doing the work today.

Is there also work to be done? Definitely, because this is where people have to be willing to sit in their own discomfort in order to undo this harm that’s been happening. White people don’t realize that teaching can lead to that type of harm and you don’t even know it.

What I hope to do with my stories is help people understand the times that we’re in, and put it in a different lens. You can’t make everyone understand. The last story I wrote about the Black schools in Montgomery being renamed? I got the most hate mail I’ve ever gotten because of that story. More than any story that I’ve ever done. Mostly because of the headline [“Confederate names don’t belong on Montgomery’s Black schools, social justice groups say”].

But I am here for the people who are willing to read beyond the headline, and for people who are willing to learn -- who may not understand but want to understand and know more, and want to build a better world. I am not here for arrogant people.

It seems like since protesting began, there has been a shift – a willingness to listen, maybe? But it’s hard to tell if real change is actually taking root.

Yeah, I don’t know … people have been claiming and screaming these names for years. Black mothers have been crying over their Black sons for years.

It’s the same thing as being an Ole Miss student. Why did I have to harm myself to prove myself? Why do Black people have to harm themselves to prove that this is a problem?

It’s kind of bittersweet for me because now the Black Magic Project [now part of Reckon South] is getting the attention it should have gotten years ago. Why did I have to harm myself years ago to get this attention?

All I’m hoping and praying for, is that this is not a trend. Because my blackness will never be a trend.

I hope this is real. I hope this is actually real change that I’m looking at and seeing and documenting, because I talk to way too many Black parents, and I listen to them and have to hear them explain to their Black daughters why the world is this way, and they’re sick. I just don’t want to have those conversations, I don’t know if I have that in me. I feel bad because my mother had to have that conversation with me, and my dad had to have that conversation with me.

When I got arrested [while covering a recent protest in Birmingham], a lot of people told me my parents should be proud. They were always proud. I wish I could play you the recording of the fear in their voice. I never want to have that conversation with my parents again. They weren’t disappointed. They sounded disappointed, but not at me. And I was like, Oh, because they know. They know. They were born in the ‘60s, so they don’t remember, but their parents remember and their brothers and sisters remember, and their daughter was just thrown into that. I never want to hear that fear in my mother’s voice again.

I’m guessing it was terrifying, being arrested for doing your job.

Well, as a Black reporter, yeah. We were the first that got arrested.

The park is in front City Hall, and there’s two doors on each side of City hall, so when the police force came out it was very intimidating.

On one side of the door, there were police officers coming out in normal uniform, carrying huge batons that you see in the pictures in history books about Birmingham. And on the other side you see police in riot gear with the big shields. There had to be at least 50 of them, enough to make a perimeter around the park. I remember telling the guy that was with me, this is excessive for less than 20 protesters.

There was a rumor that the KKK was going to come and counter-protest that the Confederate monument was going to be moved, and that’s what I had heard. And of course, no one came. So the protesters were just chilling, eating pizza, drinking water, singing songs.

I noticed that on the balcony they were taking pictures of the protesters or recording them or something, and so of course, me doing my job, I walked across the street and asked them, “Why are you taking pictures?” And a woman said, because I was told to do so, and I was like “Why were you told to do this?” And she wouldn’t answer, so she went and got the [public information officer].

The PIO comes out. He doesn’t know me because we’ve never met, so I show him my badge. He says everyone has the right to record and take pictures, and I asked why and he wouldn’t tell me. So that’s what I tweeted. Then 45 minutes later, that’s when we got arrested.

I am here for the people who are willing to read beyond the headline, and for people who are willing to learn — who may not understand but want to understand and know more, and want to build a better world. I am not here for arrogant people.

I was there trying to do my job, asking questions. Everyone there was within their First Amendment Rights -- we had the right as the press to be there and they had the right to protest. I hate to mix my personal feelings about it, because there is some privilege of being with the press. While we were arrested and put in jail for 10 minutes, they were in jail for 10 hours and didn’t get out until the next morning.

It was very scary. I felt all the people whose names people say at the protest. I felt them in my body at the time. I felt Ahmaud Arbery, I felt Breonna Taylor, I felt George Floyd, I felt Mike Brown, I felt Trayvon Martin. It was like feeling them all at once. Very shocking and suffocating, knowing that you’re about to be the next name, that you’re going to be a hashtag now. And all of that came out all at once.

And I wish… I just wish I was stronger, I guess? That it didn’t happen. That I didn’t have it in the back of my head, that this is a possibility. I’d never been arrested before, so it was a very confusing time. It was a lot of emotion in that one moment.

I wish I didn’t cry. I wish I didn’t scream. I wish I just did what the CNN guy did – just tell the story, and just let it happen because you’re going to get out. Your company is going to get you out, you know. But the emotion of being Black overwhelmed my reporting duties. I don’t know whether to be ashamed or to just be like, “It’s okay, you’re human.”

Do you feel like that experience has strengthened your sense of purpose as a reporter?

I’ve always kind of known what the protesters were risking, because I knew a lot of them anyways. The ones who were leading the way, these are relationships that are built over time. These people I’m reporting on now, I knew two or three years ago -- so they know me, they know who I am. And the leaders, I’ve been following them.

It didn’t change my mission at all, it just gave me a lens to see what they go through.

Jonece Starr Dunigan

What advice would you give to student journalists?

You really have to prioritize your mental health. This job will make you feel like you never left college. I told my best friend the other night, I love my job, but it makes me feel like I’m writing a final paper – the kind of papers that you got asked to write at the end of the year –it feels like that every week for me.

For high achievers, you’ll procrastinate, but you’ll still do well.

With someone who’s got high-functioning anxiety like myself, you feel like you have to overwork yourself in order to prove yourself. And that’s not the case. That’s not true. You’re allowed to rest and still be considered productive. Your productivity isn’t measured by how much of your soul and your body that you give to a career that at the end of the day could let you go at any moment.

You are allowed to have children, and you’re allowed to go out and enjoy times with your best friends and your fiancé and still be a good journalist. There is a way to do that, but the balance is something you have to build. And it may be looked at as you’re being lazy. That has nothing to do with you. Especially for journalists of color, we feel like we have to work twice as hard to get half as far. I think that’s bull****.

I worked for AL.com, the same paper in Birmingham that was known to be racist during the civil rights movement. Now I’m here, and I have the opportunity to change the narrative. I have the ability to say, we’re chronicling history here, and I can actually document it right this time. We all have that responsibility, you know? People with a byline, we have that responsibility. People are being asked, “What side of history do you want to be on?” And your name is on it. What legacy do you want your name on? We need to decide that. And hopefully it’s the right one.

Lasherica Thornton

Lasherica Thornton (SoJNM Class of 2018) is the Education and Features Reporter for The Jackson Sun in Jackson, TN, part of the USA Today Network. She graduated from the Sally McDonnell Barksdale Honors College.

You are the mother of two young kids who somehow managed to graduate early from college – and though you haven’t been out of school for long, in the almost two years since, already you’ve covered a pandemic, protests, school re-openings and more for the Jackson Sun. How’s it going?

I love it. I think that’s the best way to describe it. I just love the field I chose. I love waking up every day, even though it is stressful — so loving it helps.

I cover education and features. Education, as you know, has been filled with school reopenings [during COVID], so lately that’s where I spend a majority of my time. We don’t just cover Jackson – we cover the surrounding 13 rural counties, as well as those on the outskirts, and that includes more than 25 school districts.

There’s just so much that goes into it that people don’t even realize.

I remember when I lived in New Orleans 20 years ago, I would watch the school board meetings on public access TV because often it was more dramatic than even the best cable shows.

Someone once told me during my internship [with the Pennsylvania Legislative Correspondents’ Association], “The best beat is education.” And it just so happens that I wind up on this beat. And I think it is the best – it just entails so much.

I didn’t know it either when I took the job covering education.

There’s so much that can be a part of the story – whether it’s the educators, the superintendents, the teachers, the students, the parents…I get the best of all worlds.

You’re having to translate a lot of policy for a general audience. When there’s so much minutiae that you have to explain in order for people to understand it, is it hard to balance the storytelling part?

I didn’t realize how much I would have to depend on my own previous coverage. And I say that because before I took the job, they didn’t have an education reporter. So when I came in, I not only had to learn everything, but everything I learned and did, I had to rely on to even continue coverage, if that makes sense.

As far as trying to translate policy in the storytelling, what I’ve continued to do is try to get everybody’s side. So, with the school board for example: If I see some parents there, I’m going to talk to them…if I see students, students who are actively participating, I’m going to talk to them.

Teachers are afraid to talk, for the most part – that’s a barrier of the job.

I just try to involve as many perspectives as possible, because depending on what position you have in the community, you’re not going to have the same perspective.

What I’ve noticed is that there are always more than two sides to it – it’s not black and white. There are so many perspectives that you can tell a story from, and sometimes you just have to follow up. There are a lot of things I’ve covered where I haven’t been able to put it all in one story. I’ve had to come back and follow up, just to provide all of those angles.

Someone once described journalism as being not just a product, but an ongoing process – I’ve always loved that, the idea that a story doesn’t necessarily end at deadline.

What made you decide to pursue journalism as a career in the first place?

It started for me back in eighth grade. I used to take those little personality tests to say what your career would be, and it always said I’d be an accountant because I like math. But a couple of my writing teachers apparently told the journalism teacher who was with the school newspaper that I could write. They reached out to see if that was something I wanted to do, and that’s where it started. I’ve been writing for newspapers ever since.

I think I only recently realized this, but the thing that stuck with me was I didn’t really always have a voice. And then I noticed that not everyone gets a voice. So I was able to provide a voice for everyone, and provide voices to people who traditionally hadn’t had that opportunity.

And I just feel like, no matter who you are, you should have a voice. You should have a say.

Even here in Jackson, I’ve been covering protests and rallies and such. And one of the board members actually wrote me and said, “The stories that we have been writing have been giving voices to people in the community who’ve never been given that chance before.”

So just hearing that only makes me realize that I chose the correct profession in being able to give people that voice.

Has there been a particular story that you’ve worked on that made you think, “This is why I wanted to do this?”

I don’t think there’s one story. I think it’s everything. With every story I write, it’s just kind of a reminder.

Were there specific courses or experiences in college that prepared you well for the work you’re doing now? Or things you wished you’d had more of?

My education at Ole Miss was… what’s the word? If it was not for Ole Miss, I don’t think I would be the journalist I am because of the classes that I took.

For example, the feedback – I’m the type that always asks for more feedback. I was able to say to my professors, “How could this have been better?” and “How could I have improved on this?”

Even in the advanced reporting class, where we had to have that quick turnaround – even though I don’t do breaking news, breaking news still happens in every beat. For example, I’ve had to cover a lawsuit, a court case, in the morning, and they wanted it for the paper the next day. I had to have it finished no later than 3pm. It was the same as advanced reporting class. If not for that class, I would have cracked under the pressure doing my first breaking news piece.

At Ole Miss, it’s real-world – we were actually writing the stories, getting real experience in the classroom and learning from it. Of course, there’s nothing like having the experience you get from internships– but being in the classroom you also have to learn, and you learn from the people who’ve been in it. I owe Ole Miss so much for that.

I think the only one I wish I would have taken more seriously was Professor [Alysia] Steele’s photojournalism class. I took it seriously, but I just wish I could take it again, now that I know what to do. I could perfect those skills. Even though we have a photographer [at Jackson Sun], we only have one photographer for everything. I know that it would be better if I was more comfortable doing photos.

Students should take those classes as seriously as they can. Every lesson that I did learn, I’m using it.

Students of color have had such varied experiences at Ole Miss, certainly not all of them as positive as yours. What advice would you have for current students who might not feel they’re getting the attention and support they need?

Even though I didn’t experience what they experienced in college, it’s something I’ve experienced professionally. I know that what they went through is real, and I have to acknowledge that.

I also have to say, though, in every class that I took – and I don’t know if I would have done this if I didn’t have kids – but I actively went out and introduced myself on the first day and said, “This is what I have to do.” And I was always very upfront and transparent about the kids – explaining that if anything ever happens, this is why, I’m not slacking. And I also worked really hard.

That my professors were open to that and not seeing that as an excuse – I know all of that probably came from the constructive criticism of former students and the experiences that they went through.

Even though I didn’t have a difficult experience at the journalism school at Ole Miss, or at the University of Mississippi, in my profession – and again, I love it, I love my job and my coworkers –I’ve seen firsthand how as a Black woman, I am held to a higher standard of criticism than, say, my white male counterparts. I can say that from experience.

I don’t make a lot of mistakes, because I can’t. We can’t as minorities. As Black women, we can’t make mistakes. The most recent example: The school system, their budget was being cut by $417,000 in comparison to the sheriff’s being cut by $5,000. I put in the headline the words “Sheriff’s only cut by…” And that was a mistake. A coworker had done this repeatedly in his coverage, using those same words. But when I did it, county commissioners were mad, even though the story was factual.

The county commissioners were upset not just at the word…but because the story was true?

Yeah, because it was factual. Like I said, I focus on facts, not opinions.

Another example: Sometimes my coworker and I wind up covering the same thing where I cover school board and he covers county government, because the county is over funding for the school. And he did the first story and I did one of the follow-ups, maybe a month or so later.

Anyway, I took the exact terminology about a board member being “censored” from his earlier story. It was apparently incorrect.

Now, keep in mind, a month ago no one ever said anything about this story being incorrect. Low and behold, Lasherica Thornton – whose name is clearly that of a Black woman, even if you don’t see my face – I do the follow-up using the exact same terminology, and I get calls like, “You don’t know how to do your job, you should blah blah blah blah blah,” “They didn’t censor him, this is yadda yadda yadda.”

Again, I can’t afford to make those mistakes.

Any Black journalist entering the field or any Black woman entering the field, they will be held to what I consider to be a higher level of criticism. That’s just something for them to be ready for.

I guess for some people it could be hard to deal with, mentally. For me it’s not, because again I don’t want to be sloppy anyways. But I see how it could be hard for a lot of people, especially if their coworkers aren’t as genuine as I feel like my boss is.

To me, it’s all about continuing to improve how I tell stories, and how I get the message out so that more people are impacted – so that more people see what’s going on, and more people get their story out.

I would imagine that without the support and trust of your boss and coworkers, it could make you very self-conscious about your work.

They really are great. When I had a wreck last year and my car was totaled, my coworkers were the ones taking my kids to school. It’s not that I think [my being held to a higher standard] is on purpose – I just think that it’s subtle. And a lot of it is because there will be a public outcry against again a Black woman doing something versus a white man doing the same thing. They’re mad at me for calling out stuff anyways.

It’s been such an intense time, with protests taking place around the country even during the pandemic – how has that added to the pressure?

I voluntarily took on the role of saying, “I’ll go cover these protests.” And the reason I have is because I’m the only Black person in the newsroom. I even talked to my boss about it, I was like “This is why I volunteered for it.” He understood and encouraged me, and said, you’re the only one who’s going to have that perspective.

The first two protests we had here, I had already gone out of town before we found out about them last-minute. My coworkers did a good job covering them, but there was little stuff – like, they used the word “death” of George Floyd, where I would have used the word “killing.”

Because people are looking at what’s happening in other places – even though that’s not what’s happening here – they are very, very antagonizing of the media and of our choice to cover [protests]. Even though we always cover what’s happening, whatever it is, they’re asking, “Why are y’all there?” and “Why are you giving them attention?”

I’ve been going live at all the protests. I went to one city – well, a town, about an hour from here that’s in our coverage area. They had counter-protesters, so of course I knew going in there was going to be some tension. I got my live interview prepared, and one of the counter-protesters got in their face. I accidentally put my camera on myself at that moment, you could see who I was. I was not chanting with them, but you had people lying in the comments, saying “the reporter was chanting.” I don’t know if it was because they saw my face, or if they were trying to spread that to discredit the paper. But you have people like that who will try to turn anything around.

You started this conversation saying how much you love it, and in spite of so many challenges. How does that work?

I don’t mean to sound negative.

You don’t! You’re just explaining what it’s like.

I guess I want to say, whatever beat or whatever type of journalism you enter, you’re going to have stress. You’re going to have struggles. To me, it’s all about continuing to improve how I tell stories, and how I get the message out so that more people are impacted – so that more people see what’s going on, and more people get their story out.

“At Ole Miss, it’s real-world – we were actually writing the stories, getting real experience in the classroom and learning from it....and you learn from the people who’ve been in it. I owe Ole Miss so much for that.”

But if you can find what you love, and by that, I mean the medium – I wouldn’t dare do podcasts, for example – if you can find the medium that you love, and an environment that you can thrive in and improve in, the stress will be irrelevant.