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Tuesday, November 19, 2013

LY #62 News Rituals of Alzheimer's

I could write about how chaotic my public speaking class felt tonight and wonder what I would have done with it when I was younger, but instead I want to mention the rituals of news.

It was at the U of U of course that I learned of the ritual function of television news, how it served to express the horror of the day only to end with a human interest story that told us that no matter how wack things seemed, the people in power had control and we shouldn't worry because somewhere something good was happening to or being done by someone.  (For more on television as myth and ritual take a look at this 1987 Communication Research Trends review article.

I remembered this interpretation of the function of news this weekend while listening to an NPR story about Alzheimer's.  Pansy and Winston Green, a couple NPR has been following, are dealing with Pansy's Alzheimer's diagnosis.  The story is rather dark, as the disease has been progressing and even though she keeps her spirits up and fierce, her husband looks ahead into the darkness that he will be dealing with far more consciously than she will.  The story featured recordings from a planning committee of their local Alzheimer's association.  We hear one member of the committee struggling to find words for what he wants to say.  NPRs transcript quotes Winston:

"There is still fear," he says. "Not so much denial, but fear. ... You're with people that are that much advanced, and you're thinking, oh my gosh, this could be our journey."

He sees the future in the present of the other people there.  He has an honest fear.  His wife, however, is more optimistic.  She may imagine that she will be able to keep the control that she thinks she has.  The challenge for the writer is to allow both the reality and the optimism into the wrap up of the story. The award-winning journalist Ina Jaffe (one of my favorite NPR personalities) can do that.  She ends the story with these two sentences:

"The Greenes have spent 57 years accepting each other for who they are. They have no plans to stop now."

A happy ending for a dark story.  This vision, of the couple still whole, of that wholeness having a possible future, is a repetition of the "human interest" ritual ending.  Love offers a salvation.  For the moment.  The turn toward hope is a customary ritualized performance for American human interest writers.  Still. 

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