Paul Schott/MNS
Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner poses for photos moments before his fateful encounter with an intrepid Medillian.
Transformative journalistic experiences can come at the most unexpected times. Last Friday, I was on the National Mall shooting a story on the national Budgetball tournament. Budgetball is a new sport, similar to flag football, which also incorporates strategy maneuvers analogous to the fundamentals of fiscal policy. The game was conceived by Washington nongovernment organizations to promote public awareness about the national debt and responsible personal finance.
One of the teams playing in the tournament happened to be a group of employees from the Treasury Department. This appeared to me to be a relatively mundane fact until their boss showed up midway through their semi-final game. Yes, none other than Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner had decided to grace the hallowed Budgetball tournament with his presence.
As he posed for photos and chatted with his employees and other players, I hurriedly moved my camera to his vicinity to grab some precious b-roll of the tournament’s distinguished guest.
He lingered for a few minutes to watch his team play, during which time I furiously deliberated a decision. Finally, with my heart palpitating at about 200 beats per minute, I just blurted out, as he momentarily glanced in my direction.
“Secretary Geithner, Paul Schott, Medill News Service. Time for one quick question?”
Just as quickly, he shook his head and waved me off. Stunned and stung, my thought process went something like this for the next couple of minutes.
1. You’re a pompous jerk, Geithner! You’ve got some nerve turning me down!
2. Man, this sucks. That would’ve been great to get a quote from the treasury secretary.
3. I’m a trifling, inconsequential journalist and person, and I was insane for even trying to interview him.
4. Uh-oh, I just ate a big sub before I came over here. I hope Geithner didn’t catch me with mayonnaise on my face.
By the time this maniacal self-inquest had concluded, he was gone. But then I realized something. I hadn’t so much overrreacted, as misreacted.
Getting turned down for an interview is hardly a new experience for me, and in any case there are a million reasons why Geithner might have rebuffed the interview request that may have had nothing to do with me. Most obviously, the event may just have been a photo op and not intended for Geithner to talk to the press. Or even if he was putatively available for questions, maybe he’s shy and doesn’t like doing interviews, except when he absolutely has to. Maybe he was thinking about an important meeting or speech he was about to give and just wanted to be left alone to think. Or maybe he was in a bad mood because his wife yelled at him that morning for forgetting to run the dishwasher the night before. Who knows, and ultimately who cares?
As I’ve learned on innumerable occasions, rejection is integral to the journalist’s existence. Sources don’t return your calls, other news organizations refuse to share their mult boxes with you at press conferences, FOIA requests die in the maze of government bureaucracy. This is what I signed up for. If I had wanted unerring accession to my demands, I should have become a professional athlete or a rapper.
My failed interview with Geithner also taught me that resilience is a virtue in this business. As the great philosopher Sean “Diddy” Combs once said, “Can’t nobody take my pride. Can’t nobody hold me down. Oh no, I’ve got to keep on moving.” And so I did. I ended up getting a great interview with the former U.S. comptroller general, David Walker, who also happened to be at the tournament.
So, thank you, Secretary Geithner, for contributing to my journalistic development. I’m still glad I at least tried to interview you. And the good thing is if I can handle rejection from you, I can take it from just about anyone. So I’m squashing the beef right now, and issuing a proclamation to journalists everywhere: When you think you’ve been spurned, just think of those immortal words from Diddy.
Paul Schott reports on youth and politics for the Medill News Service. He wrote this piece for Washington 2.0, an occasional column about the experience of reporting in Washington, D.C. You can follow Paul on Twitter at @pschottmedilll.