For the last five weeks, I’ve been trying to get the Boston Sunday Globe delivered, and finally—after multiple calls with customer service—it mercifully arrived yesterday.
I could have given up a few weeks ago. If it were any other product, I probably would have. But I’m determined to bring something back into our home that can’t be found on the internet—something that grounds us to our surrounding community, rather than the global rathole of disinformation and sensationalism that leaves us feeling more alone.
Finding Trust
Where do we go to find trusted news in the current environment? Regardless of what political affiliation or bent you have, it’s terribly concerning that two social media platforms delivering “the news” are owned by people working in the White House. Similarly, our main cable news outlets have become echo chambers of bias for either the left or the right. Where can we go for non-biased, real news?
I’m fully aware of the Boston Globe‘s historical leanings, but I’m okay with that. At least I know when I get it, I’m reading from real people using the written word—not some online fake news site, potentially written by ChatGPT. This is important to me, because in my experience it’s much harder for people to be disingenuous when they are called to put pen to paper, and then have it reviewed by their peers before publication. It makes the output more authentic, regardless of whether you agree with the opinion expressed.
Missing Real News
In my town we lost our local newspaper a little while back, and I believe it had a significant impact on the trust and anxiety in our community. Having a local paper helps you connect with your neighbors, providing a sense of awareness that brings security and often times, joy. It’s quite different than the world of the internet, where, as you dive further into the world of global news you can feel more and more disconnected from everything. How could they do that? How could they think that? What is going on here? That can’t be true, can it? This world is crazy.
That’s how it makes me feel at least. It’s this type of disconnectedness that makes me want to take a walk outside the house to bump into a neighbor, or hit the trails to reacquaint myself with Mother Earth.
Recently, I learned of efforts to bring a new paper to town and I can’t wait for it. In the meantime, I’ve been looking to papers like the Union Leader and the Boston Globe to simply get in touch with the region again. I’ve been reading Ground News and The Week for quite a while, searching for unbiased news, but they’re not enough. They’re too global. I need something tied to the streets I drive; the towns I see.
Something Tangible
There are numerous studies showing how reading something on paper, like a book or a newspaper, is markedly better for you than reading in a digital format. The benefits of having something tangible to hold onto tie you more deeply to the experience and have a more positive effect on your mood, sleep, and, consequently, your health. I would add that it also helps you to see how long an article or book is before you view it, because expectations then meet reality. You know what you’re getting yourself into, unlike a blog post where you might start reading, hoping for a quick blurb offering answers to life’s problems, and then find yourself two thousand words deep into a manifesto you didn’t sign up for.
It’s too bad you couldn’t read this in an actual newspaper, though. Turning a page in a book—or flipping over a newspaper—makes you physically connect in a way that’s impossible to replicate digitally. When I’m holding a book, I immediately become a more mindful participant in what I’m reading.
A Connection Through Time
Having a local paper on the kitchen table does more than make you more mindful of your own thoughts; it ties you more deeply to the people in your family. Memories become linked through a good newspaper on a Sunday morning over breakfast.
When I was a kid, I loved Sunday mornings because I could count on three things: the Sunday funnies, the sports section of the Globe, and eating a bunch of donuts from Dunkin’ Donuts. Munching away on a honey-glazed donut, I dove into the worlds of Calvin & Hobbes, Doonesbury, and the Red Sox, while my dad learned about the world outside of Fenway Park. For a sanity check, one of us would ask the other if we’d read Zippy yet, to which the other would typically respond, “I don’t get it.” Those are good memories.
The Boston Globe was also at my grandparents’ house in Milton, Massachusetts, where I often stayed when I was in high school. There, you could often find my grandfather, Frank, sitting at the kitchen table, chuckling over the funnies, which he would promptly share with me when I entered the room. His favorite was Curtis. He loved Curtis. I can’t count how many times he would hand me the paper, laughing, saying, “That Curtis is always up to something.”
“That Curtis is always up to something.”
Newspapers and Memories
Those memories over the Sunday paper are priceless. They link you to your past and your family, conjuring a feeling of warmth not obtainable in the smartphone universe, where we “parallel play” our way through the day. They also tie you to the closer world—the world just outside your back door. Understanding the broader world—the global world—is important, sure, but you can’t seem to go online without it being thrown in your face from another questionable source.
I’ve had enough of it.
The broader world gives us too much to worry about. I need to know about the world around me. I need stories about the lady who wants her geese to be free to walk on the town common. Or letters from my neighbors wondering what the town is going to do about a crater-sized pothole. Or how the high school kids I used to coach are doing. I need local!
When a community paper does return to our kitchen tables, I believe it will be a step towards bringing us all back together again. For several years now I’ve felt that while the advancement of technology can be scary sometimes, the inevitable result of that fear and disconnectedness will be an abundant need for citizens to reconnect with their local world. The pendulum will swing back to the towns. We will feel closer again. Having a paper on the kitchen table is one little thing we can do to get us headed there.
