Student journalist commits blunder

It's one of the hardest things to admit, and in this business, it's pretty permanent.

It bores in your mind incessantly.

You're reminded by your co-workers, your own face, your friends and the clips in your portfolio.

It's a mistake, but not any mistake. We're not talking grammatical errors. We're not talking vacillating misuse of verb tense or dangling modifiers or omitted punctuation.

We're talking misspelling the name of your centerpiece source.

And not just one little slip-up in one graf followed by an immediate correction in the next.

We're talking consistent misspelling in a story that was written practically two weeks ago, held on backlog and then run this week.

We're talking complete and utter embarrassment.

We're talking shame.

To some, it may not be that big of a deal. I'm assuming most people who are thinking that don't work for any kind of media outlet.

One of the first things we learn in journalism and mass media is that people like to see their names in print and online.

It almost gives them the same satisfaction a journalist feels when they see a byline attached to a story they've written.

Yet, it becomes a little more personal in a newspaper. People really don't like to be misrepresented. It's understandable.

For example, I'm not Johnathan McFadden or Jon McFadden or Jonathen McFadden...I'm Jonathan McFadden and I like it that way.

A name is dear and precious and sacred; mine means a gift from God. I don't want that meaning taken away. Sure, adding an extra H after the O isn't that big of a deal, but it's the principle.

The worst part is the potential distrust I've evoked in my community.

If I get this person's name wrong, what's going to stop me from getting this quote wrong?

If I get this quote wrong, what's going to stop me from paraphrasing incorrectly or knowingly protect myself and my publication from libel?

It's a student reporter's worst realization.

I didn't realize it until 10:55 p.m. Thursday night.

My heart sank. I felt bad for the young woman whose name was consistently and utterly destroyed at my hand. I felt sorry for the publication I represent, The Johnsonian, who will only receive more flak due to this discrepancy. I feel humiliated because I know better...always check the names, always, always, always.

What's my excuse?

I can use the defense that it's not easy being a student journalist and balancing that with classes, work, extracurriculars, ministry, church, social interaction and life.

I can say that "you" don't understand the vulnerable position journalists are in. After all, each time we type a word on a screen we allow a piece of ourselves to be exposed to the world. Any word we know or don't know. Any sentence whose syntax is unclear. Any fact mildly questionable. Any story too soft and then too hard, too sympathetic and then too malicious.

No matter how good the writing or how thorough the reporting, that one incident--that one stain of imperfection and forgetfulness will forever taint that story.

It's a heavy responsibility we watchdogs and gatekeepers and advocates and representatives and muckrakers (just kidding) take on.

I'm accountable for my error and to the young woman whom the error was perpetrated against.

This incident will probably be in the back of my mind anytime I apply for an internship or job.

But, it will make me better if I let it.

No, this isn't my first mistake. I take it hard each and every time I make one because it's no light matter. It's nothing I should ever become comfortable shrugging off.

No, this isn't my first mistake and it won't be my last but this is a stepping stool to greater knowledge and wiser practice.

I guarantee I'll triple-check the names next time.