Hosting the 2023 Live Journalism Festival

“Do you want a gig?” associate professor Sonya Fatah asked me, muffling her phone on her shirt. 

“Yes,” I immediately replied. I had no idea what I was about to get myself into.

She put the phone back up to her ear and said, “She’s in.”

In the back of the bumpy bus to Jerusalem during our international journalism intensive, Fatah asked me to do social media and graphic design for this year’s International Live Journalism Festival (ILJF23) that would be hosted by TMU. While I had no idea what live journalism even was - I was determined to learn. 

We started off strong - my main goal was to educate both myself and our followers on what live journalism looked like and where it came from. Through a couple of conversations with  Fatah, I came up with a digestible infographic on “notable mentions in live journalism,” which gave me a sense of what live journalism is, fundamentally. 

When I first met the team, I couldn’t help but notice the sheer passion everyone had for live journalism. While I had worked with them for only seven weeks, the team had dedicated themselves to this project for almost an entire year.

Initially, the team consisted of Fatah along with assistant professors in the performance school, Lisa Cox and Louis Laberge-Cote, working hard to secure grants. From that point on, many others joined: previous students in the Live Journalism course at TMU, MJ students, alumni, and those who were simply interested in learning more. One by one, the team grew, fostering a tight community.

We were taking on tasks that were beyond our expertise, but doing so gleefully, as it all contributed to the greater cause. On Day One of the festival, I spent the majority of my time documenting the panel discussions explaining live journalism, storytelling in schools, and ethics. 

I had yet to fully grasp the whole allure of live journalism but it all made sense when I sat down at my first ever live journalism event: The Living Magazine: Uprooted. The event featured several writers from across Canada, each recalling how retracing their roots helped them better understand themselves. 

If you’ve ever read or heard something about live journalism, brace yourself, because I’m about to reiterate the same words: it’s just something you have to see in person. Each piece was beautifully crafted on every front; the words, the minimalist set design, and the lighting. With the use of multimedia elements such as music, videos, photos, and graphics, the speakers were successful in making the audience feel as if they were walking through their stories together. In j-school, we often experiment with innovative ways to engage audiences. The list of experiments runs long, even as far as virtual reality, but live journalism? This was the type of connective storytelling that we were missing.

After The Living Magazine’s moving performances, I felt well prepared for the second day of the festival. I began to understand the panels a lot better: while watching the live pitches from students, I could understand what types of stories would “work” as a live journalism story (and what wouldn’t). 

Staff and attendees were able to participate in storytelling through TMU professor Cyrus Sundar Singh’s interactive exhibit, “Floating to the Lure of the Promised Land.” 

The day ended with the grand finale: Climate Cocoon. Hosted by TMU’s live journalism research and creative lab, stitched! (external link)  , journalists from around the world put on a live journalism piece about climate change. From South Africa to the Netherlands, the stories varied, giving the audience a peek into what their countries were experiencing. Immersing ourselves in the diverse audio, visual, and spoken components of each individual’s performances was a delight, and was a great finish to the festival. 

One of my favorite aspects of journalism is when a human perspective is given on a complex issue. Sometimes we become desensitized to issues when news stories are centered on dry facts presented in a neutral voice. Being able to hear the feelings and the thoughts of those directly involved in these stories can help us recover from the disconnection. However, in live journalism, journalists are removed from the imaginary pedestal of prestige and academia that they are often put on, to present themselves for who they truly are: people trying to tell other people's stories. 

I hope the festival has stimulated interest in live journalism. For those who feel inspired and want to get involved, I highly suggest checking out TMU’s live journalism course, taught by Fatah. The course will take place again next winter and is open to any journalism students in third year or above. 

Days after the ILJF23 finished, I had my first live journalism presentation for the course that led me to discover the genre—International Journalism. Telling a story about the complications I faced while reporting on familial relations abroad, I pulled from the courage and thought-provoking storytelling I had witnessed in the days before. Standing on the makeshift stage in The Venn, fiercely gripping the microphone—I was exhilarated. Terrified, yet, excited to be able to tell my story in its most candid form.