How did you become involved with AJHA?

Professor Ira Chinoy, who recently retired from Merrill College, encouraged me to join. We both share a love of history.

How does your background in political science and policy work inform your research on public-serving journalism?

Pretty much everything I teach and research relates to why journalism matters to liberal democracy. I have a bachelor's degree in political science, a master's degree in public affairs, and job experience in policy, and I'm a Black Southerner with a firsthand understanding of the consequences of illiberalism. 

My great-aunt got her bachelor's degree and master's degree in education from Prairie View A&M University at the height of Jim Crow in Texas, in a county with a long history of voter suppression and White supremacist violence—so that's who I'm descended from. I don't need to be reminded why liberal democracy matters, and it's not a thought exercise for me.

So, I agree with those who believe that an ideal purpose of journalism in our society is to provide everyone—meaning, all persons—with the news and information they need to be well-informed about their needs and interests. This enables them to be effective participants in our democratic system. I also talk with my students about how a core principle of liberal democracy is the principle of amelioration, or the belief that you have the agency and the responsibility to improve society and repair the world through civic participation. And one of the most significant forms of civic participation is journalism. So, as it relates to journalism history, I'm interested in how journalism as an institution in the United States has lived up to its purpose or betrayed it.

What advice do you have for recently graduated PhDs or other early-career scholars about making the transition into a full-time faculty position?

In terms of research, be very imaginative about what you want to accomplish and think a lot about its practical applications. How can you produce research that captures the interest of people inside and outside the academy? 

One of the more interesting things I did as a Ph.D. candidate, when I lived in Philly, was  sit in a bar, and people would ask me what I did for a living, and I'd tell them—and they couldn't have cared less. On the one hand, I loved it, because it's good to not wrap your entire identity around a job. On the other hand, it inspired me to think about how I can produce work that people outside of academia might find compelling and useful—because research can be a form of amelioration, if we relate it to the needs and interests of people who live outside the walls and lawns of a university.

In terms of teaching, I say, remember that students don't care about how much you know until they know how much you care. You can push your students harder if they believe that you have their best interests in mind, and if they understand that you care about them as people first and students second. 

Also, students love variety and to be entertained. They love seeing how creative you can be in presenting information, so don't disappoint them. Hit the cowbell hard in the classroom and really explore the space. Try new things. Some teaching ideas may succeed and others will fail, but students appreciate the effort. They can tell when you've put a lot of effort into a class and when you're just going through the motions, and it's that latter thing that will provoke them to light your course evaluations on fire.

I want to underline how important it is to care for students as people. Don't just see yourself as someone whose job is to disseminate information, and then to test how well students remember it. An app can do that. You, as a professor, have to teach with an ethic of care. Caring requires actively listening to students so that you can learn about them; making yourself available so that they can talk to you; and being willing to share relevant experiences of your own, so that students feel comfortable enough to tell you what's going on in their lives—so you can figure out how to get the best performance out of them. It's a lot like being a coach, in that sense. Coaches have to connect with their players in a similar fashion.

Part of the reason why teaching can be exhausting is because doing all these things requires a lot of energy, and your full attention and concentration while you're doing it. But if you want to be the kind of professor that students remember in a positive way 20 years from now, that's the level of commitment that's required. So you have to decide if that's who you want to be.

You joined the staff of the AEJMC History Division in fall of 2024 as the Member Q&A editor for Clio, how has that role impacted your view of the media history field and what are your goals for that section of Clio?

I’ve always found history to be an intriguing pursuit, so I don't know that I needed to be convinced of that, or that participating in this role taught me that. But it is interesting to learn about other people's backgrounds, and what motivates and inspires them. [I hope to] find more people who are willing to be profiled. People should reach out to me if they're interested. I promise to ask good questions.

What hobbies or activities do you enjoy outside of academia?

Finding and eating good chocolate chip cookies, writing handwritten letters to the people who are lucky enough to receive them, visiting New Orleans and the coastal South, listening to music, and watching sports and professional wrestling. 

I'm also trying to get back into the habit of reading for pleasure. I'm currently reading the recently released biography of Perle Mesta by Meryl Gordon called The Woman Who Knew Everyone. It's the story of the original "hostess with the mostest" in Washington, D.C., and it's fascinating to read about social life in political Washington in the 1940s, '50s, and '60s. She was born Pearl Skirvin, and she comes from the family who built the Skirvin Hotel in Oklahoma City from 1910-11, for those of you who know and appreciate that hotel. 

I enjoy the book because it evokes nostalgia about how certain aspects of Washington used to be in the days before ignorance and vulgarity were celebrated and normalized, and promoted in a 24/7 media culture. I really am tired of it. Granted, we know that nostalgia is a selective tool that captures aspects of a time that we idealize the most while filtering out the most regrettable parts—and we've never truly lived in a society that didn't have serious problems in its discourse. But it's not hard to dream of a society where people making a spectacle of themselves for clicks, and votes, and profit isn't something that's rewarded in the worlds of politics and policy—and where necessary conversations can be had, but in good faith and with respect for the principles of liberal democracy. And probably with some amazing food and drink. All of that would be useful today.