Nate Leishman, manager of the Church’s humanitarian emergency response efforts describes aid being sent.
Via LDS.org
Via LDS.org
From LDS.org:
SALT LAKE CITY 17 November 2009
An informed citizenry, it is often said, is the bulwark of democracy. The basic principles of journalistic integrity – objectivity in reporting, detachment from personal bias, and disinterested duty to the truth – are essential in facilitating public trust and civil discourse. All individuals and institutions, including churches, share an interest in contributing to these worthy goals.
The advent of social media has changed the way people gather, consume and analyze information. Blogs, Twitter and Facebook, for example, are expanding the channels for public participation in receiving and sharing information. Likewise, these platforms are becoming important tools for media organizations to interact with their audiences. Old, comfortable lines are being blurred. The new values of openness and authenticity are often seen as colliding with the traditional values of editorial oversight and authority. Private expression runs seamlessly into public expression. News organizations across the country are doing their best to adapt to changes as they develop. Nonetheless, these dynamics have not altered the fundamental ethical imperatives of journalism.
This duality between traditional media and new media has created a situation where journalists often report by day and blog by night. For example, a reporter can write an objective news story for an organization’s public website and then later add a personal slant about it on a blog, Facebook or Twitter. Though the perceived distance between personal and public writing might make sense to the reporter, the reader is often left confused. People still expect journalists to be impartial reporters of the facts. If objectivity is absent in one platform, it cannot be present in the other. Trust cannot thrive on contradiction. Nevertheless, these conflicts can be managed with proper rules and guidelines. Openness can co-exist with objectivity, but not with open bias.
Among news organizations grappling with these issues, National Public Radio has done a commendable job of establishing guidelines that promote journalistic ethics by delineating clear boundaries between the private and the public. In doing so, they inject a welcome dose of order into an often unwieldy world of conflicting information Excerpted below are NPR’s “commonsense rules” that can also apply to everyone in the field of journalism:
Information from your Facebook page, your blog entries, and your tweets - even if you intend them to be personal messages to your friends or family - can be easily circulated beyond your intended audience. This content, therefore, represents you and NPR to the outside world as much as a radio story or story for NPR.org does.
Recognize that everything you write or receive on a social media site is public. Anyone with access to the web can get access to your activity on social media sites. And regardless of how careful you are in trying to keep them separate, in your online activity, your professional life and your personal life overlap.
You should conduct yourself in social media forums with an eye to how your behavior or comments might appear if we were called upon to defend them as a news organization. In other words, don't behave any differently online than you would in any other public setting.
You must not advocate for political or other polarizing issues online. This extends to joining online groups or using social media in any form (including your Facebook page or a personal blog) to express personal views on a political or other controversial issue that you could not write for the air or post on NPR.org.
Furthermore, in an effort to ensure a respectful, reciprocal relationship between staff and readers and to promote more civil online participation, many news organizations are establishing guidelines to rein in contentious comments. For example, the Cleveland Plain Dealer recently issued a new commenting policy seeking to end bigoted comments, while at the same time urging its staff members to meaningfully engage with readers. Likewise, the Boston Globe has created a “member agreement” stipulating general rules for reader participation on its site: “You agree not to use language that abuses or discriminates on the basis of race, religion, nationality, gender, sexual preference, age, region, disability, etc. Hate speech of any kind is grounds for immediate and permanent suspension of access to all or part of the Service.” Hopefully, such moves among respected news organizations such as these will be duplicated by media organizations concerned about the low levels of public trust and civil discourse.
SALT LAKE CITY 17 November 2009
An informed citizenry, it is often said, is the bulwark of democracy. The basic principles of journalistic integrity – objectivity in reporting, detachment from personal bias, and disinterested duty to the truth – are essential in facilitating public trust and civil discourse. All individuals and institutions, including churches, share an interest in contributing to these worthy goals.
The advent of social media has changed the way people gather, consume and analyze information. Blogs, Twitter and Facebook, for example, are expanding the channels for public participation in receiving and sharing information. Likewise, these platforms are becoming important tools for media organizations to interact with their audiences. Old, comfortable lines are being blurred. The new values of openness and authenticity are often seen as colliding with the traditional values of editorial oversight and authority. Private expression runs seamlessly into public expression. News organizations across the country are doing their best to adapt to changes as they develop. Nonetheless, these dynamics have not altered the fundamental ethical imperatives of journalism.
This duality between traditional media and new media has created a situation where journalists often report by day and blog by night. For example, a reporter can write an objective news story for an organization’s public website and then later add a personal slant about it on a blog, Facebook or Twitter. Though the perceived distance between personal and public writing might make sense to the reporter, the reader is often left confused. People still expect journalists to be impartial reporters of the facts. If objectivity is absent in one platform, it cannot be present in the other. Trust cannot thrive on contradiction. Nevertheless, these conflicts can be managed with proper rules and guidelines. Openness can co-exist with objectivity, but not with open bias.
Among news organizations grappling with these issues, National Public Radio has done a commendable job of establishing guidelines that promote journalistic ethics by delineating clear boundaries between the private and the public. In doing so, they inject a welcome dose of order into an often unwieldy world of conflicting information Excerpted below are NPR’s “commonsense rules” that can also apply to everyone in the field of journalism:
Information from your Facebook page, your blog entries, and your tweets - even if you intend them to be personal messages to your friends or family - can be easily circulated beyond your intended audience. This content, therefore, represents you and NPR to the outside world as much as a radio story or story for NPR.org does.
Recognize that everything you write or receive on a social media site is public. Anyone with access to the web can get access to your activity on social media sites. And regardless of how careful you are in trying to keep them separate, in your online activity, your professional life and your personal life overlap.
You should conduct yourself in social media forums with an eye to how your behavior or comments might appear if we were called upon to defend them as a news organization. In other words, don't behave any differently online than you would in any other public setting.
You must not advocate for political or other polarizing issues online. This extends to joining online groups or using social media in any form (including your Facebook page or a personal blog) to express personal views on a political or other controversial issue that you could not write for the air or post on NPR.org.
Furthermore, in an effort to ensure a respectful, reciprocal relationship between staff and readers and to promote more civil online participation, many news organizations are establishing guidelines to rein in contentious comments. For example, the Cleveland Plain Dealer recently issued a new commenting policy seeking to end bigoted comments, while at the same time urging its staff members to meaningfully engage with readers. Likewise, the Boston Globe has created a “member agreement” stipulating general rules for reader participation on its site: “You agree not to use language that abuses or discriminates on the basis of race, religion, nationality, gender, sexual preference, age, region, disability, etc. Hate speech of any kind is grounds for immediate and permanent suspension of access to all or part of the Service.” Hopefully, such moves among respected news organizations such as these will be duplicated by media organizations concerned about the low levels of public trust and civil discourse.
In the end, these are the stories we remember. The year 2009 is about over, and out of all the e-mails, phone calls, Web searches, visits and interviews, some powerful stories have emerged.
They range from the quirky and improbable to the humbling and heart-warming. They've taught us sorrow, humility, enthusiasm and understanding.
And they've all left an impression.
This week, Mormon Times writers and editors reflect on the subjects and story lines that made 2009 a memorable year.
We look at families who have lost loved ones and how they cling to hope. We reflect on the power of faith and trust, and the moving influence of artistic expression.
And we revisit personalities like the boxing bishop in Texas, the 105-year-old convert in Arkansas and the positive pitcher-turned missionary who still hasn't looked back.
Read the powerful stories on MormonTimes.com.
They range from the quirky and improbable to the humbling and heart-warming. They've taught us sorrow, humility, enthusiasm and understanding.
And they've all left an impression.
This week, Mormon Times writers and editors reflect on the subjects and story lines that made 2009 a memorable year.
We look at families who have lost loved ones and how they cling to hope. We reflect on the power of faith and trust, and the moving influence of artistic expression.
And we revisit personalities like the boxing bishop in Texas, the 105-year-old convert in Arkansas and the positive pitcher-turned missionary who still hasn't looked back.
Read the powerful stories on MormonTimes.com.
Are Mormons Christian? Absolutely. There are Christians out there that will argue that Mormons are not, becuase we do not fit into the small box they define as Christian. Since Mormons do not believe in the Trinity, they say we are not Christian. Since we believe in the Book of Mormon, they say we aren't Christian. There are other reasons they list as well, but they all mean nothing. The dictionary defines Christan as: "following the teachings or manifesting the qualities or spirit of Jesus Christ." Is there a church in all the world that so fully meets this description? I would argue no. I define Christan as any person or religion that loves, worships, honors, and obeys the Lord Jesus Christ. Under this definition, Mormons are indeed Christian.
Joseph Smith once said:
"The fundamental principles of our religion are the testimony of the Apostles and Prophets, concerning Jesus Christ, that He died, was buried, and rose again the third day, and ascended into heaven; and all other things which pertain to our religion are only appendages to it." (TPJS, p. 121).
For more information, check out the talk given by Boyd K. Packer.
Joseph Smith once said:
"The fundamental principles of our religion are the testimony of the Apostles and Prophets, concerning Jesus Christ, that He died, was buried, and rose again the third day, and ascended into heaven; and all other things which pertain to our religion are only appendages to it." (TPJS, p. 121).
For more information, check out the talk given by Boyd K. Packer.
The first Christmas after I became stake president, our little girls got some dolls and other nice things on Christmas morning, and they immediately dressed and went over to their little friend's home to show her what Santa Claus had brought them. In a few moments they came back, crying. "What in the world is the matter?" we asked. "Donna Mae didn't have any Christmas. Santa Claus didn't come." And then belatedly we realized that the father had been out of work, and there was no money for Christmas. So we brought the little ones of that family in and divided our Christmas with them, but it was too late. We sat down to Christmas dinner with heavy hearts.
I resolved then that before another Christmas came, we would be certain that every family in our stake had the same kind of Christmas and the same kind of Christmas dinner that we would have.
The bishops of our stake, under the direction of the stake presidency, made a survey of the stake membership, and we were startled to discover that 4,800 of our members were either wholly or partially dependent-the heads of families did not have steady employment. There were no government make-work projects in those days. We had only ourselves to whom we could look. We were also told that we couldn't expect much help from the general funds of the Church.
We knew that we had about one thousand children under ten years of age for whom, without someone to help them, there would be no Christmas, so we started to prepare. We found a second floor over an old store on Pierpont Street. We gathered toys, some of which were broken, and for a month or two before Christmas parents came to help us. Many arrived early or stayed late to make something special for their own little ones. That was the spirit of Christmas giving-one had only to step inside the door of that workshop to see and feel it. Our goal was to see that none of the children would be without a Christmas. We would see that there was Christmas dinner in all the homes of the 4,800 who, without help, would otherwise not have Christmas dinner.
At that time I was one of the city commissioners. The night before Christmas Eve, we had had a heavy snowstorm, and I had been out all night with the crews getting the streets cleared, knowing that I would be blamed if any of my men fell down on the job. I had then gone home to change my clothes to go to the office.
As I started back to town, I saw a little boy on the roadside, hitchhiking. He stood in the biting cold with no coat, no gloves, no overshoes. I stopped and asked where he was going.
"I'm going uptown to a free picture show," he said. I told him I was also going uptown and that he could ride with me. "Son," I said, "are you ready for Christmas?"
"Oh, golly, mister," he replied, "we aren't going to have any Christmas at our home. Daddy died three months ago and left Mama and me and a little brother and sister."
Three children, all under twelve! I turned up the heat in my car and said, "Now, son, give me your name and address. Somebody will come to your home, you won't be forgotten. And you have a good time; it's Christmas Eve!"
That night I asked each bishop to go with his delivery men and see that each family was cared for, and to report back to me. While waiting for the last bishop to report, I suddenly, painfully, remembered something. In my haste to see that all my duties at work and my responsibilities in the Church had been taken care of, I had forgotten the little boy and the promise I had made.
When the last bishop reported, I asked, "Bishop, have you enough left to visit one more family?" "Yes, we have," he replied. I told him the story about the little boy and gave him the address. Later he called to say that that family too had received some well- filled baskets. Christmas Eve was over at last, and I went to bed. As I awoke that Christmas morning, I said in my heart, "God grant that I will never let another year pass but that I, as a leader, will truly know my people. I will know their needs. I will be conscious of those who need my leadership most."
My carelessness had meant suffering the first year because I did not know my people, but now I resolved never again to overlook the needs of those around me.
(Ye are the Light of the World, 345-347)
I resolved then that before another Christmas came, we would be certain that every family in our stake had the same kind of Christmas and the same kind of Christmas dinner that we would have.
The bishops of our stake, under the direction of the stake presidency, made a survey of the stake membership, and we were startled to discover that 4,800 of our members were either wholly or partially dependent-the heads of families did not have steady employment. There were no government make-work projects in those days. We had only ourselves to whom we could look. We were also told that we couldn't expect much help from the general funds of the Church.
We knew that we had about one thousand children under ten years of age for whom, without someone to help them, there would be no Christmas, so we started to prepare. We found a second floor over an old store on Pierpont Street. We gathered toys, some of which were broken, and for a month or two before Christmas parents came to help us. Many arrived early or stayed late to make something special for their own little ones. That was the spirit of Christmas giving-one had only to step inside the door of that workshop to see and feel it. Our goal was to see that none of the children would be without a Christmas. We would see that there was Christmas dinner in all the homes of the 4,800 who, without help, would otherwise not have Christmas dinner.
At that time I was one of the city commissioners. The night before Christmas Eve, we had had a heavy snowstorm, and I had been out all night with the crews getting the streets cleared, knowing that I would be blamed if any of my men fell down on the job. I had then gone home to change my clothes to go to the office.
As I started back to town, I saw a little boy on the roadside, hitchhiking. He stood in the biting cold with no coat, no gloves, no overshoes. I stopped and asked where he was going.
"I'm going uptown to a free picture show," he said. I told him I was also going uptown and that he could ride with me. "Son," I said, "are you ready for Christmas?"
"Oh, golly, mister," he replied, "we aren't going to have any Christmas at our home. Daddy died three months ago and left Mama and me and a little brother and sister."
Three children, all under twelve! I turned up the heat in my car and said, "Now, son, give me your name and address. Somebody will come to your home, you won't be forgotten. And you have a good time; it's Christmas Eve!"
That night I asked each bishop to go with his delivery men and see that each family was cared for, and to report back to me. While waiting for the last bishop to report, I suddenly, painfully, remembered something. In my haste to see that all my duties at work and my responsibilities in the Church had been taken care of, I had forgotten the little boy and the promise I had made.
When the last bishop reported, I asked, "Bishop, have you enough left to visit one more family?" "Yes, we have," he replied. I told him the story about the little boy and gave him the address. Later he called to say that that family too had received some well- filled baskets. Christmas Eve was over at last, and I went to bed. As I awoke that Christmas morning, I said in my heart, "God grant that I will never let another year pass but that I, as a leader, will truly know my people. I will know their needs. I will be conscious of those who need my leadership most."
My carelessness had meant suffering the first year because I did not know my people, but now I resolved never again to overlook the needs of those around me.
(Ye are the Light of the World, 345-347)
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