About Me

The newspaper industry is in need of innovation. Its cure must be a breed of change that generates revenue while remaining true to the industry’s democratic function. We haven’t figured it out yet, and we may never do so in a way that preserves newspapers as we now know them. But I want to be a part of the change and to work for a publication that is leading the vision.

I am a journalist working as an intern at The News Tribune in Tacoma, Wash. through June 2009. I am looking for journalism-related work in Northwest Washington for the fall.

I have generated experience at two sizeable McClatchy newspapers, The Wichita Eagle in Wichita, Kan. and The News Tribune in Tacoma, Wash. Clips from these stints and others can be viewed on this site. I graduated Summa Cum Laude with a Bachelor of Arts in Journalism and a minor in French from the University of Oklahoma in December 2008.

I look forward to using my multimedia experience in video, photo and online elements to contribute as needed to the evolving formats of media. I am confidently equipped and eager to add my skills, passion and vision to any outlet. I am available for paid or volunteer internship opportunities as well.

Enjoy my online portfolio and feel free to contact me at whitneycoleman263@gmail.com.

Review of a military wife’s memoir

Our military reporter at TNT asked me to review a Navy spouse’s book about her family’s first 7-month deployment (since I’m marrying a Navy guy in about a month). It ran in The News Tribune June 14 and here’s a link: Book chronicles the sacrifices of military families at home.

Alison Buckholtz’s honest exploration of her and other wives’ daily trials in their husband’s absence serves as not only an eye-opening introduction for nonmilitary families, but also a sobering – yet perseverance-inspiring – preview into my future.

The book is available at her Web site: StandingByBook.com.

Bing vs. Google

As posted on The News Tribune’s Biz blog.

Microsoft stepped back into the ring last week with a renovated version of Bing – its search engine that has undergone a series of re-branding efforts to make it more competitive with, say, Google.

And if Bing wins the clicking duel, maybe Wikipedia or Webster will coin a new verb after the famed search engine as they have for its No. 1 competitor, (though Binging or Banging things doesn’t have the same ring as Googling them).

In my non-tech-minded attempt to give the newly revamped contender a chance at my searching devotions, I have assembled a few rudimentary tests for comparison. Here are my results:

1. My first priority was Binging and Googling myself, Whitney K. Coleman, to see which engine brought up my personal Web site.

Bing brought up someone elses Facebook page, the stats of a male basketball player at Monmouth University (Go Hawks?) and, eventually, a column I had written for Examiner.com – but no Web site on the first page.

Google, however, brought up my site right out of the gate. Maybe it had been conditioned by my frequent, vain attempts at Googling myself.

Google: 1 pt.

2. Next, I tested the application I use most often – maps – to guide me through the still-foreign streets of Tacoma.

I generally have a faint idea of where I want the map to take me, such as part of a business or restaurant name. My current project is compiling maps for out-of-town guests to my wedding, so I gave Bing a swing at it.

I searched for directions from Eastminster Presbyterian Church, Wichita, KS to Terradyne Country Club, Andover, KS – and got the exclamation-mark-in-yellow-triangle symbol, which is never good.

Bing said that this was not an exact match and asked if I just wanted to use just Wichita, KS instead. Apparently it needs a full address.

I would have to Google the church and country club to get the full address.

Google gave me suggested addresses for each, from which I chose the correct ones. It plotted the best route on the map, and I saved the map as a pdf to be dispersed amongst the groom’s Oklahoma family members.

Google: 1 pt.

3. While reading an article at NYTimes.com, I clicked a Bing ad that offered updates on flight times. By typing “Flight“ followed by the flight number, both Bing and Google bring up relevant information, including whether or not the flight is on time, from FlightStats.com.

Bing topped Google on this one by bringing up the information on its search page in a neat, legible format; whereas, Google provided a link to FlightStats.com for the info.

Bing: 1 pt.

4. Movie Times. I’m still hoping to see the Earth movie on the big screen. Though I may have missed my chance, I searched “Earth movie times.“

Bing brought up movie times in Middleton, New York, which is an odd default location considering Microsoft is just north of here in Seattle.

I clicked the option to change my location and Bing brought up a settings page. Cool! I could filter out sexually explicit images and text or choose to have searches returned in Swedish. I digress.

I’ve never seen an options page like that in Google, which might have just memorized my location based on frequent searches (an unfair advantage since I’m new to Bing).

According to Google and Bing (with the new location saved), a dollar theatre in Renton and drive-in in Port Orchard are still showing the life-size animal picture.

Considering Google’s unfair advantage, I declare this one a tie.

5. And one random search to top off the test:

I wanted to know how many calories were in the sake I had with sushi last night.

A search for “calories in sake“ on Bing brings up all the information on the search page. No more clicks are required to find out that there are 39 calories per fluid ounce in the rice wine, according to the USDA, and that I had too much of it.

The same search on Google brings up a link to caloriecount.com, which was the second link on Bing’s page. It takes another click to get to the calorie count from Google.

But if you spell sake like “saki,“ both engines bring up a link to the outdated dailyplate.com, which has to take you to livestrong.com to get the facts – which are not necessarily accurate since they are entered by the general public.

When it comes to calories, sometimes it’s better not to know anyway.

Bing: 1 pt.

In the end, the score is tied 4to 4.

Since I use maps the most, I’ll probably stick with tried-and-true Google for most things. But it’s nice to know I have options – and that Microsoft is willing to spend $100 million in advertisements to entice me to use their option.

Pleasing the audience

What are we doing here in the news biz?
Are we selling papers?
Not very well.
Are we public relations machines pumping out pieces to please?
How dare you ask! Any decent paper balks at such an accusation.
Does PR sound a lot more appealing after sources and readers call to complain and pump out press releases pleading that we JUST WRITE A POSITIVE STORY? Are we tempted to start making them up when they don’t exist?
Sure. For a moment. Until we remember our goal is to tell the news, not to create it. Sorry if it isn’t always delivered with a little icing on top. This economy and the fallout that generally fills (especially our business) pages is hard to swallow. We understand that. We don’t like it either. But not knowing about the layoffs and store closures doesn’t make them go away.
Well, can we at least tell the people when this economic storm will subside?
We seem to try don’t we? Or at least we dutifully report every time our prophetic politicians proclaim, “The end is near!”
We’re all looking for a glimmer of hope. The good news is there are always glimmers if you look hard enough. That means they aren’t always news. And some days, the bad news is simply more newsworthy.
So the journalist’s plea for the day?
Don’t shoot the messenger.
Have a positive story that really truly exists?
Send it along. We’d love to write about it.

My military bride debut

After interviewing Elizabeth Oakes, national wedding and marriage examiner for Examiner.com, for a story about a recession-resilient wedding cake baker, she asked me to write a guest column about my upcoming wedding.

She found a couple aspects of our engagement and wedding interesting: I am long-distance planning the Kansas wedding for August while working in Tacoma, Wash., and I’m marrying a Navy guy – with all those lovely long-distance engagement strings attached. The latter is what she chose for my topic.

You can find the column at this link.

The Washingtonian

I am officially a resident of Washington.

Today wraps up my second week of work at The News Tribune in Tacoma. Launching the three-month internship as a member of the Business Team, I can’t imagine a better newsroom environment thus far — even with layoffs looming in the air. Hey, it could be (and probably will be) far worse (just read this NY Times article).

At TNT, I’m writing stories related to the economy…. and, no, that doesn’t come with an Rx for Prozac. I like to take it with a dose of determination instead, to find the few stories of economic hope. I’ve been searching for the industries or individuals whose heads are still above water or who are doing quirky things to get there.

So far, the stories I’ve written have taught me a lot. Starbucks’ new meal deals, I mean, “breakfast pairings” are nothing — I repeat, nothing — like McDonald’s egg mcmuffin, O.J. & hashbrown. And the company with plummeting profits is in no way trying to win back customers lost to the lure of Mcgourmet coffees and cheap food. Let’s just say, if there is one thing standing at the end of this recession, it will be McDonald’s (and Wal-mart). Welcome to America!

I have also had a lesson on the spa industry, which I found out can be as dramatic as car salesman-ery. And I have done extensive research (a.k.a. two weekends of wine tasting) on a story about alcohol sales in this economy, running this Sunday. My secondary mission in Tacoma is to discover the city via coffee shops and getting lost on the way to coffee shops. I kick off my hour-plus drive (both to and from Redmond… every day) at 7 a.m.ish to avoid the thicker traffic and swing by one of many local coffee shops before work. Tacoma, as is customary with cities in this state, has a lot to offer in the way of roasted beans. And despite (or maybe because of) the help of my Garmin and Google Maps on the iPhone, I still manage to get lost — a lot. To my credit, I am the new girl in town. And to my greater credit, it is an excellent way to get to know the eccentric and seedy corners of Tacoma. Hopefully my adventures will lead to more discoveries, story ideas and, eventually, a Pulitzer.

p.s. The long drive is more than worth it on days like today, when “The Mountain” (Rainier) is out. Let’s just hope this Kansan doesn’t drive her car off a cliff while drooling over it.

Dirt track tales

My dad grew up in the garage. In fact, he’s still growing up, and he’s still in the garage a lot. When he was younger, the family affair was restoring old cars, which naturally led to building faster cars — and to racing. My Gramps has been running his “midget” and “sprint” cars in the tri-state area of Kansas for a few years — well, he builds, maintains and funds the car. His good friend drives. Being a true girl, I never felt inclined toward the scents of dirt or gasoline and, thus, rarely joined the family on weekend racing trips. But this past weekend, I decided to see what this racing scene is all about, if for no other reason than to learn more about the sport they so love. And I did learn a lot.

Racing is not a one-man sport or even a team sport. It’s a family affair. Almost every car lined up in the pits had a teenage boy crouched beneath it, an older boy slipping into driving gear and a father and/or grandfather figure pacing back and forth, wondering which adjustments would make the machine run that much faster. The scene was similar near our trailer. Gramps leapt on and off his knees, jetting back and forth from the trailer like he was 20 years younger. Dad took directions from Gramps, checking this, pushing that and meditating on each adjustment. The gals, mostly wives, perched in lawn chairs inside the trailer, away from the wind.

A few older men gathered near the car as well, looking on with enthusiasm. Granny introduced me to their old friends Les Jr. and his son Les III (the older of whom grinned through the entire affair as though he were behind the wheel). I grabbed my camera as Les Jr. brandished an old album, pointing out pictures of his “daddy” winning races. The driver’s dad, an 80-year-old looking man in a red zip-up number, piped up, “My daddy raced his daddy.” The Texas sunset added nostalgia to the moment, causing the dust in the air to sparkle in remembrance of racing days passed.

We didn’t race too well that night, didn’t “get it set up right,” but the 50-year-old driver of Gramps’ car wisely waited out the wreckage of the 20-lap race and moved up more than 15 spaces due to patience. Setting the car up right entails adjusting a long list of variables to the changing conditions of the dirt track and weather. It takes a well-versed driver and mechanic to interpret and continually adapt to the conditions. Gramps’ car raced well the next night, with all the variables falling into place, finishing 9th, just behind the “NASCAR-level” drivers.

You get the best feel for the races watching from the pits, they say, ducking from mud clods kicked up by tires turning 80-miles-an-hour, unable to hear your cheers over the engines’ roars. But I think I learned what it was all about before the races technically began. There’s something special about the relationships forged under the hoods and in the pits. I feel like I may be the wrong gender to fully understand what pumps through their veins when three generations of men help change a tire, but I can tell it’s about a whole lot more than winning.

Liquid sunshine

My Seattle aunt often beams about their unique weather. “Liquid sunshine” she calls it. My Kansas family and Oklahoma friends, however, have been mocking me about the wet days to come as I prepare to move to Washington. But the weather pleasantly surprised me during a recent 10-day trip to the state.

Landing at Sea-Tac airport last week was a beautiful tease. We flew just above the thick cloud-cover, where the sunlight bounces off the billows beneath and embellishes the mountaintops peaking through. I glued my eyes to the window, wondering if we could land on the dense cotton candy floor. Once we dipped into the fog, I thought it would never end. Five, maybe ten minutes of zero visibility. Suddenly, we hit the soggy Seattle runways that I had expected. (That day, I liked it better above the fog.)

Now I love Kansas, through and through. The expanse of open plains are the best frame for a breathtaking sunset. The state prefers to show off its skies; today the feature presentation is endless rows of flat-bottom clouds. In contrast, Washington’s skies frame the land. Most days the low lying clouds limit the view. When they part, you don’t hear “It’s sunny!” but “Look, the mountains are out.” When the veil of clouds disappears — if only for a moment — you see the state’s secret beauties piercing the sky. They are a mystery revealed, then covered once again.

It’s different from the waving wheat, but it sure has its own sweetness. I still need practice navigating “Deception Pass” in the 6 a.m. fog — a trek that gave me some premature gray hairs — and it will take a while to get used to those liquid rays. But I’ll cling to those few and treasured moments of sunshine, knowing they will come again, and maybe I’ll bring a little with me next time.

Inauguration Day

On September 11th, my mom suggested I write down my thoughts, knowing this would be a day to remember for all of history, a day I would recount to my children. She said she wished she had chronicled events like the death of JFK, her reactions, the moment in which she experienced the jolt of history.

Today, I suppose, is like one of those days. Today is one of utter joy for many and one of much change for all — the inauguration of the 44th President of the United States of America, the first African American president, Barack Obama.

I watch the action on a TV at Starbucks, mesmerized by the moment, the emotion it entails for so many who traveled miles and elbowed many to witness this event firsthand. It is enough to make both Republican and Democrat tear up for a moment, to see the arrival of what so many see as their hope, as this country’s hope.

As Aretha Franklin sings “Let freedom ring,” her voice rings of the songs of hope and freedom her ancestors sang, in freedom walks on those very grounds. Yesterday, our country honored Martin Luther King Jr., who crusaded at all costs for freedom. Today, we inaugurate the first African American president, for whose rights and freedoms King and so many others have struggled.

In this, Obama is a symbol of hope. I hope he inspires those who face obstacles — racial, financial, spiritual, physical — to hope they may overcome. I hope they cling to a greater Hope as well. And I hope that, whatever the cause, our country rallies to pull itself from these depths and to live up to the call and cost of Freedom.

A poem to ease economic woes

Laid off, not paid off.

Madoff has made off.

My spouse got fired.

My kid got hired.

Part time only.

Answers phones mostly.

College costs rising.

Grads compromising.

Degrees are piling.

But wallets aren’t smiling.

Ramen is back.

Not just as a snack.

Wish I knew how.

To bail myself out.

Calls to unemployment.

Phone lines busy.

Still busy.

Maybe I’ll call the government.

(note: Not written entirely from personal experience. Only the college part.)

New Year sighs

New Year’s Eve 1999. Canned food stacked high in cellars. Fear that the world would crash along with the computers. It came and it went. A sigh of relief.

New Year’s Eve 2008. It wasn’t “Welcome 2009,” but “Good Riddance 2008″ that headlined New Year’s Eve countdowns on TV. It’s been a tough one. At year end, Wal-Mart and McDonald’s are the only Dow industrials that didn’t fall by more than 10 percent, the government is taking more risks than Wall Street and policy makers are like accountants drowning in a room full of unruly receipts.

No one will leave the year unscathed. From Wal-Mart to Wall Street to Hollywood, where Madoff’s curse has ventured to strike even the famed and fortuned, all Americans will be forced to face the figures. If we’re in it to “win it,” or at least make it through, America had better change its slogan.

Surely we have something better to say about 2009 than “Good riddance 2008.” Maybe it’s up to the journalists to brainstorm some more upbeat adjectives to plaster across screens and front pages. We can’t change the numbers or the story of their impact, but we can impact the perspective. I prefer optimism with a spoonful of naivite, especially when it comes to numbers. The cold hard facts could always use a little more color. Bievenidos 2009!