Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: MONDAY, August 16, 1993                   TAG: 9308160096
SECTION: VIRGINIA                    PAGE: C-1   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: LARRY W. BROWN
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Medium

THE JOB WAS JUST A PART OF EXPERIENCE

Those events stand out, but there's another part of my experience to which I've given a lot more thought. It goes beyond learning how to write a feature story or work on deadline at a daily paper. It's the experience of being the only black male reporter in the newsroom.

I'm not complaining about the current lack of black male reporters (there have been others in the past). Nor am I trying to make comments about hiring more people like me. I'm simply saying that being in a newsroom environment has given me the opportunity to think about my attitudes and beliefs.

Even though I was born and raised in the Star City of the South, I have spent the past three years at Howard University, a historically black university in Washington, D.C. I know what it's like to be in an all-black and an all-white environment.

I didn't go to work every day and remind myself that I was the only black male in the newsroom. I wouldn't be able to get any work done like that. But when I had to go out for a one-on-one interview, I couldn't help but think that, when I got to the door, the person might look at me funny, try to get rid of me or mistake me for the paperboy.

I was sure they'd think, "Certainly, he's no newspaper reporter" or "Is this the man I spoke with on the phone?" When I was assigned a story that took me out of the metro area and into places I'm not familiar with, sometimes I couldn't help but wonder if the person answering the door would greet me with a shotgun.

Nothing like that happened, but I experienced it before I became a reporter, and some of those wounds take a long time to heal.

By now, you may be thinking I'm crazy, paranoid or both. I'm not. I'm 21, a male and black. While I wouldn't change my color or gender, being a young black male in America can be difficult. Despite all of the wonderful people I've met this summer, I can't let my guard down in any situation.

Whether I'm out chasing a story in the field or attending an afternoon news conference, the pressure of being a minority is always felt. At our morning staff meetings, occasionally an issue involving race would come up. I immediately had the feeling that all eyes were on me, as if I were the sole voice of the black community on every issue.

I also got the feeling at times that others wondered if the things they said would offend me. I look at it like this: If it's an issue involving race, I probably have strong feelings, even though I might not express them.

I was watching the television in the newsroom a few weeks ago when Michael J. Reynolds, a black 17-year-old, was sentenced for shooting someone. A co-worker innocently asked, "Do you know him?"

Perhaps the intensity with which I was staring at the TV prompted the question. Deep down I hated it, and I suppose anyone looking at my face might have been able to tell that I was upset. But I didn't know Reynolds. It was simply the fact that one of my brethren was being sent to jail for shooting another one.

I didn't lash out at my co-worker. I know he didn't mean anything by his question. I calmly answered "No," and returned to my work.

Being the only black male in any business is a challenge. In the media, where portrayals of blacks are often negative and incorrect, the challenge is sometimes doubled.

I have to prove myself competent with every step I take, much as women have had to do for years. As Omar Tyree said in column a few weeks ago, I am one of the new "invisible" men - one of "the new warriors in a non-televised war of self-determination."

As a reporter and a writer and the sole black male face in the Roanoke Times & World-News newsroom, I refuse to be invisible.

I emulate many of my co-workers, and I don't want people to judge me by the color of my skin. I want it known that I'm always cognizant of my situation. I'll use it to my advantage, but I won't take it for granted.

Being the only black male reporter at a newspaper was an experience I'll never forget. It's also one I'll likely encounter again. Some of the challenges I've had to face will no doubt follow me wherever I go.

But no matter how many times I face those challenges, I'll always look back and remember this summer. My internship was not bitter; in fact, it made me much stronger. I've learned that these experiences are all part of growing and, most of all, of being a journalist.

Off-beat Larry W. Brown is a senior at Howard University, where he is majoring in print journalism.