Um outro jornalismo possível

Andei relendo alguns materiais antigos e encontrei uma edição do “Philadelphia City Paper”, de setembro de 2009. Trata-se de um jornal diferenciado, que foca em dicas de lazer e entretenimento e traz grandes reportagens. A matéria principal da edição do dia 9 – intitulada “No justice, no peace” – abordou a experiência de um jornal alternativo chamado “The Defenestrator”.

A publicação alvo da reportagem é de cunho anarquista. Isto, no país mais capitalista do mundo, soa como uma aberração, uma desconformidade. Sob um determinado ponto de vista, claro. Porque, sem dúvida, trata-se de uma experiência rica e inovadora. Um jornal feito pela comunidade, sem foco mercadológico, discutindo temas de interesse da comunidade – questões que geralmente passam alheias à chamada “grande imprensa”, seja por uma visão obtusa ou por falta de interesse mesmo.

Não conhecia o “City Paper” muito menos o “Defenestrator”. Este, fique claro, não o vi nem o li. Já o primeiro tive contato e posso garantir: trata-se de uma iniciativa bastante interessante. Não é um jornal tradicional, com notícias quentes do dia anterior, as chamadas “hard news”. Está mais para uma revista – tanto pelo formato quanto pelo conteúdo.

O “City Paper” vale a leitura. O texto principal, sobre o “Defenestrator”, por exemplo, faz uso de recursos do chamado “new journalism” – o “novo jornalismo”. Para apresentar a publicação anarquista, a reportagem acompanhou uma espécie de protesto que distribuía comida grátis, fruto de um movimento intitulado “Food not bombs”.

Após narrar em detalhes personagens e situações do protesto, a matéria trouxe a questão: como as pessoas foram mobilizadas para participar? Num mundo em que as redes sociais exibem grande poder de mobilização, aquelas pessoas estavam lá porque viram no jornal. Não nos jornais tradicionais da cidade e sim numa publicação um tanto tosca, em preto e branco, chamada “The Defenestrator”.

A seguir, reproduzo trechos do início da reportagem (disponível só em inglês). Ela pode ser lida na íntegra no link já disponibilizado nesta postagem.

They're supposed to be there at 7:30 p.m., but on Aug. 17, by 7:45, there are very few people in front of the Free Library's Central Branch, and for very good reason: Somehow the sun remains sweltering hot despite its gradual progression toward the horizon over the Art Museum. Still no one by 7:50. Drifters seem to muscle through the broil to reach the library's luxuriously frigid, conditioned air.

Right around 8 p.m., just before the impulse to flee has all but played out, a lithe, white, cute hipster shows up in beat-up gray Chuck Taylors, long cutoff jean shorts, a tight yellow T-shirt and a green trucker cap. She's grinning wide and awkwardly cradling a giant plastic bowl that even from 100 feet away appears to be splashed with red sauce. As she approaches a park bench in the grass, more young people draw near, maybe 15 total, emerging from the 19th Street side of the library. They all carry food. The scene begins to play out:

First the front door of the library opens and a gray-haired dude - Caucasian, unwashed and unshaven - comes striding out toward the bench, staring intently at it with wide, dark eyes. A few more people trickle out from inside the library. The door closes and then opens again as more people exit. From the other side of the bench a tattered squadron steps in weird unison, some limping, some stepping faster, close to a jog, toward what one could imagine looks aerially like a vortex of men and women all converging on one spot to get what turns out to be a spatula full of vegan spaghetti each, some potatoes and a ripe orange served on a paper plate.

They eat using plastic forks. At least 100 people arrive to feast and no one pushes, no one raises their voice and, in fact, the whole scene is surprisingly silent - the only sounds coming from mouths chewing and shoes walking, first toward the bench and then, after they've received their meal, toward spots on grass and concrete. They eat in peace and chew and sit quietly, if only for a few moments, before they either depart or get up with a clean plate to ask for seconds. They'll receive it if they ask; there's plenty to go around.

This gathering has a name: Food Not Bombs. It's a type of franchise activism initiated in Cambridge, Mass., to protest war, poverty and needless excesses. (...) Their goal is to serve free, fresh-made vegan fare to anyone who wants it, and to encourage the poor and homeless to gather and hang out and maybe even germinate ideas for personal and collective growth.

The Web provides ample opportunities to advertise gatherings like this, but ask anyone here how they discovered the free food and they'll likely say one of two things: "My friend told me," or "I read it in the newspaper."

The "newspaper" is not the Inquirer or the Daily News or even City Paper, but a printed anarchist publication called The Defenestrator. It is a stark, black-and-white newsprint publication distributed for free in independent shops and meeting places along Lancaster and Baltimore avenues in West Philadelphia, and at a few places within tentacle reach of South Street's business district.