Columns

Front Line to Front Page: A former soldier’s journey

August 6, 2010 by aajavoices

Peter Sessum

Peter Sessum

By Peter Sessum
Voices

You run into all sorts of people living and working in Afghanistan. In my time there – first as  soldier, then as a counter-narcotics civilian for the state department – I met the full range from the regional governor to senior military commanders to government officials. I even met a few folks I’m now am sure were trying to kill me. The people I hated meeting most, however, were the journalists.

My perception of the media was that it’s a business. As a soldier, I had seen firsthand reporters who were just looking for stories to sensationalize. Stories of soldiers setting up a medical clinic or sweating in 140-degree heat to help rebuild a school just weren’t newsworthy to them. Not when there was a truth to stretch. Or so I thought.

After a few years in the Middle East, I decided to go back to college. My plan was to get a degree and become a manager within the State Department – someone with both on-the-ground experience and the credentials to run the programs I had been worked in. I never thought it would lead me to journalism.

When I was younger I occasionally watched the news. But it wasn’t until I joined the Army that I became truly interested in news. In the military I saw how the news of the day directly impacted my life. In 1995, I watched President Bill Clinton signed the Dayton Peace Accord on live television. A few months later, I was in Bosnia enforcing that very accord.

In Afghanistan, our mission was to hinder Taliban recruitment by winning the hearts and minds of locals. The embedded reporters who followed us, however, didn’t seem to be interested in the work we were doing.

One over-dramatized and sensationalized piece in particular haunted us for the rest of our tour. It was just another story for the reporter – about how there was a higher bounty on the soldiers of my unit than the average soldier – but for my commander and others in my unit, it was devastating. After it was published, my commander spent the better part of an hour by satellite phone trying to get his wife and daughters to stop crying with worry about him.

That experience came to mind when I returned to college in Washington state. Among my few options for a humanities a course was a journalism class. So I took the plunge.

For the first few weeks, I almost thought of it as working for the enemy. Everyone – from my professor to visiting journalists – challenged me to be the kind of thorough and balanced reporter that journalists are really supposed to be. It was a humbling and eye opening experience. And it didn’t take long to see how important journalism can be. By the end of that first quarter, I was hired on to be the opinions editor for the school newspaper. Two quarters later, I was editor-in-chief. Based on a story I wrote, I even got the school to change policies in the student  athlete handbook that restricted free speech.

I soon realized that if I got my degree and went back to work for the State Department, I might have an impact on one program in one small sector. But as a journalist, I could report on a whole range of issues and have a much wider effect.

Just as I was a grunt in the Army, I plan to be a grunt journalist – someone who can report truth from the ground level. A few short years ago I would never have imagined being a journalist. Now I can’t imagine being anything else.


Columns

Paintball fight saves father from silent killer

August 4, 2010 by aajavoices
Hung Tieu

Van Tieu with her father, Hung, who lived with Hepatitis B and a tumor that went undiagnosed for ten years.

By Van Tieu
Voices

It began with a battle of paintball. Three years ago, my brother-in-law convinced my 53-year-old dad to go paintballing with him and a bunch of his other friends in their 30s.

“What is paint-ball-eng?” my dad asked. He really didn’t know what he was getting himself into. But this adrenaline-pumping pastime would mark the beginning of a battle against a life-threatening foe.

It is known as the silent killer.  Once infected, victims don’t show any symptoms and usually don’t know they’re infected. The disease can mature into chronic Hepatitis B, a cancer that damages the liver and can result in liver failure and death. And of the 1.25 million U.S. citizens with chronic Hepatitis B, more than half are Asian Americans, according to the Asian Liver Center at Stanford University.

But on the morning he left the house with my brother-in-law and his friends, my dad, Hung, knew none of this.

They left looking pristine – not a single hair out of place. My dad, I have to admit, is a little vain. “He always takes longer than me to get ready,” my mom, Lan, jokes in Vietnamese.

He had never heard of paintballing, but as a veteran of the Vietnam War, he quickly caught on once they were at the course.  Everyone returned with dirt, welts and a rainbow of splattered paint that served as their medals of honor. But my dad fared worse than the rest. He had fallen on his wrist and hit his abdomen. That night, with a latex glove full of ice pressed to his wrist, he staggered up to his room and went to bed.

Weeks later, he still hadn’t recovered. He felt weak and had no appetite. It impossible to walk with the shooting pain in his abdomen.

The doctors took many X-rays but couldn’t figure out why he was feeling so sluggish and in pain. Then they found the tumor.

A CT scan revealed it on his liver—10 inches long and 8 pounds heavy. The tumor had been growing inside of him for over 10 years, the doctors estimated. All that time, he had no idea he had been infected with Hepatitis B, the cause of lifelong liver cancer. This is how it often happens.

“Many chronically infected patients do not seek medical attention because they have no symptoms, their virus is dormant or inactive, or their doctors told them there is no effective treatment,” said Dr. Truong-Sinh Leduc, a gastroenterology and internal specialist in Fountain Valley, Calif.

One in 10 Asian Americans is living with chronic hepatitis B, according to the Will You B Here website, a Hepatitis B awareness and education campaign run by Gilead Pharmaceuticals.  Many never seek help because there are often no symptoms when the virus is dormant. Without appropriate monitoring or treatment, one in four can die from liver cancer or liver failure.

“Hepatitis B is often referred to as a silent disease with a silent audience,” said Kathy Dong, project manager at Gilead, which is at the AAJA Convention trying to raise awareness. “The communities that are affected most, foreign-born people, they come from different cultures and they have different attitudes about things like health.”

Ironically, Hepatitis B can be easily caught by a simple blood test. Many organizations are now committed to educating Asian Americans about the disease and how to get tested

The biggest problem, Dong said, is that Hepatitis B is under diagnosed. Of those infected, 80 percent live everyday without symptoms or knowledge that they are infected, Dong said.

That was the case for my dad. The unfortunate fall that day led to the lucky discovery of his cancer. We didn’t know it at the time, but as the battle on the paintball course ended, my dad’s battle with liver cancer was just beginning.


Columns

Don’t judge a broadcaster by the accent

Many foreign newscasters have become popular in the U.S. So why discourage those with accents?

August 3, 2010 by aajavoices
Yeong Lim

Yeong Lim

By Yeong Lim
Voices

It takes less than 30 seconds for them to press the eject button, look me in the eyes, and suggest I work behind the camera.

Those who’ve reviewed my reporter demo reel all say the same thing – I need to get rid of my Korean accent and sound more American.

Read the rest of this entry »


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