Trauma journalism is dangerous, emotionally challenging work, and when a journalist’s special skills are nurtured by an editor who shares her passion, exceptional stories result.
Dart Center Ochberg Fellow Kate Bramson of The Providence Journal found that kind of editor in Mimi Burkhardt, with whom Bramson worked on “Rape in a Small Town,” the 2004 Dart Award-winning story of Laura, a teen who was raped and sought justice—and healing—against a tide of doubt in her own community.
When Burkhardt died in 2004, Bramson was devastated personally and professionally. The next year in Toronto at a gathering of Dart Center Ochberg fellows, Bramson described working with Burkhardt on the rape story, and how the editor had joined her, heart and soul.
That’s when Dart Center Chairman Emeritus Frank Ochberg, M.D., suggested that Bramson and her fellow Dart Society members create an award that would recognize the qualities of editors like Burkhardt, and how critical those editors are to producing the best journalism. Call the award The Mimi, Ochberg said.
“If journalism is going to make a difference in this world we need to recognize these people,” Bramson said. “The award is one of the ways to ensure that we maintain the legacy of people like Mimi and keep them in the business.”
For a year Bramson worked with Fellows Miles Moffeit of the Denver Post and Scott North of The (Everett, Wash.) Herald to create the award, the first of its kind to recognize editors who advocate relentlessly for the integrity of stories and invest time in shaping the talents of journalists.
Melissa Manware of The Charlotte Observer, a 2005 Fellow, was in the room when Ochberg suggested creating The Mimi Award. She enthusiastically joined the committee that selected David Clark Scott of The Christian Science Monitor as the award’s first recipient. Manware, a criminal justice reporter, said she was struck by how Burkhardt’s involvement went far beyond that of the typical editor who simply reads a story, suggests changes, and passes it along.
“They absolutely were partners in this,” she said. That meant Burkhardt really took the time to listen to Bramson. And it also meant that Burkhardt became emotionally involved with the story. Moffeit, who specializes in investigative reporting, said the process of writing such a story can be dicey for any reporter.
Editors often make quick judgments that can kill the story or shape it in ways that fail to uncover truth. Getting there often requires a deep level of immersion that takes time and energy, he said, adding that many editors just don’t have the mettle or the heart. Bramson talked about how Burkhardt eagerly joined her on every step of the story, absorbing the details as Bramson brought them to her. One moment Bramson described particularly resonated with other members of the Dart Society. She showed Burkhardt a slip of paper detailing the many dates when Laura, the girl who had been raped, appeared in the newspaper for having made the honor roll. After the rape, Laura’s name disappeared from the lists. Burkhardt clutched her chest and cried, real grief from an editor who also was a mother. Later, during an interview with Laura’s mother, Bramson was shown how those honor roll certificates had been pushed aside by a stack of receipts from rape counseling sessions. The reporter told her editor, and Burkhardt remembered, making sure that detail made it into the newspaper.
“I never had an editor who saved versions of my story, who said, ‘This missing graph was nagging at me,’” Bramson said. “She had this unbelievable memory for everything you ever told her. She filed it away in her mind.” Moffeit said it was clear that Bramson and Burkhardt had experienced something special. “They both had unearthed a strong emotional truth within that story,” he said. “Kate was describing perhaps the most meaningful moment you can have in journalism. You and your editor share a connection, a powerful gut instinct; you understand together that you’re on the right path, that this is a hugely important story.” The experience revived Bramson’s passion for the profession. She’d been considering leaving journalism and was facing burn out.
Ochberg noted that many journalists trace their best work to moments when an editor rises above the job description in profound ways. “This is an award that comes from the journalists who are in the position of absorbing trauma, tragedy and cruelty, and who need editors who are wise and supportive and encouraging, and who help the journalists,” Ochberg said. “If you’re a war journalist or out there away from home, the editor is not just a voice on the phone who determines whether your words are broadcast or printed. This is your lifeline to sanity.”
Ochberg said great editors such as Mimi are extraordinary, and that’s what makes the search for them so important to the future of journalism.Learning about editors who put the work and their reporters and their readers ahead of themselves was inspiring, North said.
Manware and others who helped make the award a reality felt the same way. “When I read what people said about the editors that they had nominated, I said ‘I only hope that when I’m done, that just one person would say these things about me,’ ” Manware said. “That’s now become a goal of mine, that before I’m finished, I’m going to be like Mimi.”