The danger of assumptions
If you’re reading this, you probably know at least two, or maybe more mistakes, I’ve made since I’ve been employed with the Marysville Journal-Tribune.
About a week ago, I misidentified a student in a picture I took. The problem should not have been as significant as it eventually became. It should have been a correction with the appropriate name, and a reminder not to mess up so much next time and move on.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t simply move on from this.
For those who are following the events of page two of the Journal-Tribune this week, we’ve had to list two corrections for that misidentified student.
The first correction was handled during our newsroom’s rush hour; we had minutes to get our work done and send it to press. I remembered we had to write a correction for the misidentified student and I was in the middle of finishing a story. I was asked if the student had given me a false name. I looked at my notes in the blur and I made one of the biggest mistakes anyone could make in this line of work: I made an assumption.
I assumed it was true. After all, my memory felt as sharp as a tack recalling that day, remembering the names of the students I talked to for that story. I assumed his name was certainly another student’s name, and that he could have provided me a false name.
I’m not one to immediately think ill of a person, but I wasn’t thinking with clarity at the time.
As it turns out, I misread my notes and crossed two names together. I had legitimately thought I was given a false name. It’s scary to think that even your own notes can turn against you when you’re not in the right frame of mind.
With something that simple, I made a mistake that will definitely remember for my life.
When we ran the correction that stated the student had provided us a false name, we got an email and a phone call from the student’s mother. My editor then asked me to give him my notes. I didn’t know how deep my stomach could sink at that moment when we both realized that the correction we ran the day before had erroneously blamed the student for my mistake.
That day, I was nauseous, uneasy and definitely existential. I gave myself some verbal lashings and I didn’t feel right coming to work all day.
I had not only disgraced the name of the Journal-Tribune, but I tarnished the reputation of a student and stressed my editor with an ethical blunder he had never seen in his 20-plus years of working at the Journal-Tribune.
I failed everyone that day, all because my head wasn’t in the game. All because of something so simple everyone can do whenever they’re in that situation: stop, take a breath and think about what you’re doing.
I knew I had to correct my mistakes. I gave the parent a phone call later that day. We talked it out. She was civil and straightforward. She didn’t bite my head off like other people had, nor did she take an hour of my time to tell me how awful I was. I was so thankful for her grace.
In seven minutes, all she wanted was evidence in the paper that vindicated her son.
I don’t consider myself off the hook for this. When I’m at the gym or working on my projects at home, I’m still remembering how stupid I was that day in making that assumption.
I’m hoping I can make some amends with the correction we ran Thursday that clarified the problem, as well as this column explaining myself and what I did. I know excuses won’t reverse the damage I did.
I hope I can restore trust in the community with this column, but I will also understand if some members of the community want to hold what I did against me.
I wouldn’t blame them at all. I would also welcome a conversation about this in the near future.
-Jacob Runnels is a reporter for the Journal-Tribune.