"If not you, who?
"If not now, when?"

Full text of the address delivered by Hank Glamann
to the American Copy Editors Society
on April 22, 2005, in Hollywood

Good evening, everyone, and thank you for that kind and generous welcome.

I’m delighted to be here tonight with so many wonderful friends.

ACES has come a long way to bring us to this glittering gathering, hasn't it?

Here in Hollywood back in 1976, the Academy Award for best actor went to Peter Finch, for his portrayal of Howard Beale, the mad prophet of the airwaves, in Network, a film that offered a searing commentary on the news media.

The character was a well-established and well-respected television network news anchorman. But, one day, Howard Beale went over the rainbow, and was transformed from a traditional journalist into a messianic figure articulating the popular rage … denouncing the hypocrisies of our time.

I’d like to begin this evening with a brief reading from the world according to Howard Beale, because I think it speaks to our situation as copy editors, and so I would ask you to imagine, if you will, for just a couple of minutes, that I am the mad prophet of the airwaves.

I don’t have to tell you things are bad. Everybody knows things are bad. It’s a depression. Everybody’s out of work, or scared of losing their job.

Surrounded by friends, Hank listens to ACES President John McIntyre introduce him as the banquet speaker.

The dollar buys a nickel’s worth. Banks are going bust. Shopkeepers keep a gun under the counter. Punks are running wild in the street and there’s nobody anywhere who seems to know what to do and there’s no end to it.

We know the air is unfit to breathe and our food is unfit to eat. We sit watching our TVs while some local newscaster tells us that today we had 15 homicides and 63 violent crimes, as if that’s the way it’s supposed to be.

We know things are bad, worse than bad. They’re crazy. It’s like everything everywhere is going crazy, so we don’t go out anymore. We sit in the house, and slowly the world we’re living in is getting smaller, and all we say is “Please, at least leave us alone in our living rooms. Let me have my toaster and my TV and my steel-belted radials and I won’t say anything. Just leave us alone.”

Well, I’m not gonna leave you alone. I want you to get mad.

I don’t want you to protest. I don’t want you to riot. I don’t want you to write to your congressman, because I wouldn’t know what to tell you to write. I don’t know what to do about the depression and the inflation and the Russians and the crime in the street. All I know is that first, you’ve got to get mad.

You’ve got to say, “I’m a human being, goddamn it! My life has value!”

So, I want you to get up now. I want all of you to get up out of your chairs. I want you to get up right now and go to the window, open it, and stick your head out and yell, “I’m as mad as hell, and I’m not gonna take this anymore!”

Eight and a half years ago, Pam Robinson and I took a page from Howard Beale's book.

As copy editors, we were tired of sitting quietly in our little corner of the newsroom, feeling the world closing in on us, tired of not being recognized for our contributions to our publications.

We were as mad as hell, and we weren't gonna take it anymore.

Pam and I met in the fall of 1996 on the campus of the University of Kansas, where we were attending the third in a series of three meetings organized by the American Society of Newspaper Editors to address the issues facing newspaper copy editors.

A standing ovation for Hank Glamann at the end of his speech

The specific agenda for that third meeting was to propose solutions to the problems identified during the first two.

One of the ideas advanced was the creation of a national organization for copy editors.

It was clear that the idea had widespread support.

It was equally clear that no one was going to actually do anything with it.

Pam and I were there talking about this, and I will never forget the moment when we realized the truth of the situation, because it hit us simultaneously and drew us both up short … not something that happens often with us.

If you had a photograph of that moment, it would no doubt show little light bulbs over our heads.

It was one of those rare, defining moments of clarity. And what we realized in that moment was simply this:

If not us, who?

If not now, when?

In that moment, the American Copy Editors Society was born.

Six months later, ACES officially came into being when it was chartered as a non-profit organization.

Pam and I launched into this with a powerful purpose but without a clue as to what we were getting ourselves into, and we certainly ended up doing a lot of things we never expected to do when we became journalists.

We researched what it takes to create a non-profit organization, and hired a lawyer to draw up our incorporation papers. We paid his fees, and all of our other expenses, out of our own pockets. We registered with the IRS. Bought insurance policies.

Created a Web site. Drew up promotional materials of various kinds and distributed them to everyone we knew … and a lot of people we didn't know.

We made plans for a national conference of copy editors, our first major project.

A lighthearted moment on stage for John and Hank.

Pam hoped we might attract 50 people. In her wildest dreams, maybe 100. I was a bit more optimistic but, in fact, we had no assurance that anybody was gonna show up. More than 350 people did, from all over the country, and we’ve done nothing but grow ever since.

We learned to schedule scores of workshops, to plan menus for hundreds of people.

We learned to negotiate contracts with huge hotels. In our second year, we signed an agreement personally pledging to pay a hotel $79,800 if the conference that was to be held there didn’t come off. That'll make you swallow pretty hard.

We learned how to raise money from the leaders of our industry. How to attract the best educators in the business to our national conferences.

We've had nine of those now, including this one, along with a number of regional gatherings. As a result, thousands of copy editors have received training to make them better journalists.

And that is by no means all that ACES has done.

We have greatly expanded our Web site and newsletter, developed scholarship programs, created an educational foundation, launched a nationwide headline contest, formed regional chapters, provided speakers to schools and other journalism organizations, articles for national publications.

All of this, and much more, has been done, and is being done, to advance the cause of the copy editor … to improve understanding of what we do and to make our voice heard in our industry.

Many, many dedicated people have given of their time and talents to make all of this happen.

But none of it would have been possible if two people hadn't decided to do something that you'd never find in their job descriptions. To think outside of that famous box. To make a choice beyond the narrowly personal.

Pam and I could easily have adopted the attitude: Hey, that's a good idea, but it's not my job to make it happen.

Had we done that, you and I would not be here tonight.

We could easily have adopted the attitude: Hey, I can't do that, I'm just a copy editor.

Had we done that, you and I would not be here tonight.

I don't tell you this to aggrandize myself, people. I'm on my way out the door. What the journalism world thinks of me at this point is of no practical consequence whatsoever.

Hank takes a bow.

I tell you this to show you what a difference it can make when even one person chooses to think beyond the narrowly personal … and to act on those thoughts.

Two copy editors decided to do that one day eight years ago in Lawrence, Kansas. And look what happened.

You can do the same thing … in your own newsroom, in your own career, in your own life.

Perhaps the changes you bring about won't be sweeping. Great leaps forward are pretty rare, after all. Most change is incremental. But just because a change is relatively small doesn't mean that it's insignificant.

Journalists have more reasons to work for change than ever before, because the industry environment in which you find yourselves now is a challenging one. You are going to be called upon, increasingly, to do more with less.

How can you confront this situation in a meaningful way?

Begin by asking yourself this question, which I'd like for you to think about for a moment, right now:

Who is in charge of your professional life? Is it you? Or are you swept along by external forces beyond your control?

Many people regard life not so much as something that they live but as something that happens to them. If you feel that way, and you want to make a difference, you're going to have to change that attitude.

Remember Howard Beale’s admonition: “You've got to say, 'I;m a human being, goddamn it! My life has value!'''

Don't ever say, ''I'm just a copy editor.''

Don't ever even think, ''I'm just a copy editor.''

It has been well documented that copy editors crave one thing above all others: R-E-S-P-E-C-T, find out what it means to me.

Well, I'm here to tell you, friends, no one will respect you if you don't first respect yourself.

So, think of yourself as an essential member of the newsroom team. That shouldn't be hard because that's exactly what you are.

But don't forget to think of your colleagues elsewhere in the newsroom in the same way. Because they are essential members of the newsroom team, as well.

The peer review that copy editors provide should be critical, but not punitive. Adopt a constructive attitude and you'll accomplish far more. If you approach a colleague with the statement ''I want to suggest something to you that I think will make this story better,'' you'll get a lot further than you will with ''What jerk wrote this?''

Hugs and handshakes all around

Remember that every time you approach a colleague with an editing issue, you have a teaching opportunity. Treat it that way, and you can make real progress. You have a chance to make sure that the person who has sent the desk the same error 10 times in a row won't send it over an 11th time … and isn't that better for everybody?

Remember that every time you approach a colleague, it shouldn't be with an editing issue. Take the time to compliment a reporter or other staff member for a nice piece of work, to thank an originating editor for turning a story around quickly on deadline, whatever it may be.

Don't do it by e-mail. Walk over to the person's desk and do it face to face. That's how you build bridges.

If a question comes up when you're editing a story, ask it, no matter what kind of a question it is.

The healthiest and most productive newsroom climate is one in which any member of the staff can ask any question about any story and expect to be heeded.

To restrict who can ask about what is inefficient — and a real waste of talent.

There is no such thing as a ''copy desk issue.'' Likewise, there is no issue that the copy desk ought not be able to explore.

Pick your fights, though. Don't go to the mat over something unless it's worth it. If it is, do it by all means. But remember that you'll still be working with these people tomorrow and next week and next month, so don't waste precious political capital without a good cause.

At that first ACES national conference in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, in 1997, some of the journalism students helping us put up a banner on the side of one of the campus buildings that read ''Welcome ACES.''

Now, I'm reasonably certain that this banner was the first of its kind in all of human history. ''Welcome ACES.'' What a fine sentiment that was. Nevertheless, one of the copy editors in attendance felt obliged to point out that there should have been a comma after ''Welcome.''

All of us here can appreciate that, but when that's the face we show to the world, it causes us only harm. So, pick your fights, and pick them carefully.

In our copy desk quest for re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-spect, just a little bit … it's useful to remember that it's difficult to properly respect something you don't fully understand.

And there certainly are plenty of folks in our newsrooms who don't quite get what it is that we do, particularly on originating desks, with which, as you well know, we tend to have relationships that are at least somewhat adversarial.

The best solution, in my experience, is for each to walk a mile in the other's shoes.

Hank and Ohio University's Deborah Gump

Arrange for a copy editor and an originating editor to spend a couple of weeks doing each other's jobs. It's not difficult to schedule; both desks still have the same number of bodies.

I have used this technique at three major papers, and it was beneficial in every case. In two cases, it was a rousing success on both sides of the aisle.

You can make this happen in your newsroom, and it will work wonders. Give it a try.

Do you have a headline contest in your shop, or any other means of acknowledging good work by copy editors? If not, start one.

Training is another area in which you can have a substantial impact, both for yourself and your colleagues.

First, avail yourself of every training opportunity, in-house and out, so that you make yourself the best editor you can be.

To my mind, the pursuit of excellence is a worthy goal in and of itself. But, as a practical matter, the better trained you are, the more marketable you are.

To achieve this goal, you may well have to spend some of your own money. Certainly a great many of you are paying at least part of the tab to participate in this conference. And you are to be commended, because that's the sort of decision you have to make if you are to be in charge of your own career.

So, train yourself, train your colleagues. If your newsroom doesn't have ongoing training sessions, organize some.

Take what you learn here and share it. Re-create one or more of the workshops you attend. You can do it.

Encourage your managers to schedule more training sessions, and to support staffers' participation in outside training.

You may not get everything you ask for, but if you don't ask for something you'll surely get nothing.

Which brings us to perhaps the most important thing you can do to effect change: Make your voice heard.

When you feel that something needs to be done, speak up.

And I'm not talking about crying in your beer with your fellow copy editors. Most of us are pretty good at that. But it does precious little good, except in the sense that misery loves company.

You need to express your opinion to someone who can actually do something about it. That may be your copy desk chief, your managing editor, whoever is appropriate.

Be constructive. It's probably best to be as mad as hell only metaphorically. Instead, be as motivated as hell.

But you need to speak up, whatever the issue.

One that has gained attention recently is whether copy editors have a seat at the high table.

That is, are the copy desks represented among the ranks of top newsroom management?

They certainly should be. But, frequently, such representation is lacking.

Hank with ACES board members Zoe Friloux, left, and Deirdre Edgar

Another issue that's at the top of the agenda in most newsrooms -- or should be -- is time … as in, we don't have enough of it.

Copy editors are frequently called upon to perform a sizable set of complex tasks in a ridiculously short period of time. It's a travesty, and it happens because deadlines in many newsrooms are a joke, if they exist at all.

Except for the one at the end, of course, the one the copy desk and the layout desk have to make.

The answer is tiered deadlines, which every newsroom should have. Every story should flow through the system based on a sequence of deadlines for every step of the process.

It is not rocket science. Any newsroom can do it.

I urge you to make these same points in your shop.

If that means you need to approach your top editors, you should have no fear of doing that, no matter how large your paper is.

Oh, there's that nasty thought again: ''I can't do that. I'm just a copy editor.''

Sure you can. Why shouldn't your top editors listen to you as much as anyone else?

Any intelligent manager is going to appreciate an employee who cares enough to offer suggestions for improvement -- and, ideally, that's the way you should approach situations like this: offer a solution, not just a complaint.

The most intelligent managers are those who know that their employees have the answers to all their problems -- if they'll only take the time to listen to them.

So, I urge you not to be shy.

Besides, if they don't like what you say, what are they gonna do, make you work nights?

I've told that joke a thousand times, but you know what? It's not a joke.

You may not realize what a seller's market you're in when it comes to your skills.

Newspapers, magazines and similar organizations, from the smallest to the largest, have openings for copy editors that they simply cannot fill, no matter how hard they try. And they're trying.

A goodly number of the people in this room are here primarily because they’re looking for copy editors to hire, and many more are here at least partially for that purpose.

What does that mean for you as a copy editor?

First, let it be said that you should work hard to make the publication for which you work the best that it can be, and to make your shop the best place to work that it can be.

If you succeed, wonderful. Terrific. Outstanding.

But, if the day comes when you've done everything you can do and you're just beating your head against the wall, then go out the door. Because, if you're good at what you do, people will be lined up to hire you.

Should you feel the need to offer an explanation to those whose employ you are departing, I suggest this: ''I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not gonna take this anymore.''

Life is too short to work for people who don't appreciate you, so don't do it.

And don't sit there imagining that someone is going to miraculously appear one day and give you everything you want and deserve, in your career or in your life. If you think that, you're going to have a long wait.

An embrace from Kathy Schenck, who also is leaving the ACES board

The way to get everything you want and deserve is to go out and get it. Make it happen yourself.

You can also make your voice heard on the national stage, by continuing to support ACES, as an active member.

Attend conferences whenever you can, nationally and regionally. Lobby your managers to send you and others to meetings, and to contribute to the organization.

If you're interested in forming a regional chapter, approach colleagues in your area about it and bring a proposal to the national board.

If you're interested in working on a particular project, or otherwise becoming more involved, let us know. You can do it on your conference evaluation form.

Keep your membership current, and not just in those years when you'll be attending a conference. Do it every year. That's another one of those decisions that takes you beyond the narrowly personal, and helps to ensure that the voice of the copy editor stays strong in industry forums.

One of the simplest things we can all do to support ACES is to recruit new members. If each of us went home from this conference and recruited one person, our ranks would grow by 500. And size does matter.

But, as with all the other courses of action I've suggested, you have to actually do it for it to mean something.

I've tried to practice what I'm preaching in my own career. I have not always succeeded, but I hope that I've done reasonably well on balance.

I got my first paying job as a newsman when I was 12 years old, reading summaries of the nation's weather on radio station KLEY in Wellington, Kansas, 1130 on your dial.

My voice sounded a little different then.

That means I've been at this in one form or another for almost 40 years on and off, mostly on. The bulk of that time I spent as a newspaper copy editor.

During those years, I have worked side by side with many wonderful people, and played at least a small part in the publication of some remarkable works of journalism. I often drew great satisfaction from the copy editor's roles of reader advocate, guardian of the language, last line of defense.

I've also been able to work as a journalism teacher in a variety of venues, and that has meant a lot to me.

But the proudest accomplishment of my professional career, bar none, is having a hand in the creation of ACES, and in its growth.

I believe that our society has done a great deal to advance the cause of the copy editor, and that does my heart good.

Much work remains, however. Many situations in all of our newsrooms, and in our industry at large, cry out for change.

But others must answer that call, for the time has come for me to step aside.

And so I ask:

If not you, who?

If not now, when?

Thank you.

A rousing sendoff for Hank

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