My experience taught me how to be curious, how to watch my government, and more broadly, how to live out my citizenship. Now long removed from a career in news, I am not only a news junkie, but a person who knows how much journalism matters.

By Matthew Boedy

Recently, at my new job in higher education, I took a very public stance against a bill in our state legislature that would have made it legal for people to carry concealed guns on college campuses.

I took up that fight not only because I think “campus carry” is a stupid and dangerous idea, but also because many years ago I lived and breathed a place where stances for the public good are commonplace — The Independent Florida Alligator.

The Alligator has always been known for its defense of public information. Its own independence started over a fight to publish a list of abortion providers in the 1970s. With other news organizations, it fought for access to autopsy records after the Gainesville student murders in 1990. And in 2001, when I was a senior, it fought the hastily passed law known as the Family Protection Act, signed by Jeb Bush in response to the death of NASCAR legend Dale Earnhardt at the Daytona 500 that year. The law limits public access to photos, video, or audio recording of an autopsy unless one can show good cause or get the family’s consent. Florida’s robust public records law once allowed viewing or copying for any reason.

I was the main reporter on the story but Jason Brown, editor-in-chief, and Trey Csar, managing editor, were the “faces” of a fight many members of the public hated The Alligator for engaging in. And of course, Ed Barber was the whisper we heard telling us to take on this fight.

You can read a long version of the events which highlights the Orlando Sentinel’s role as initiator of this important fight here.

The Alligator took the fight all the way to the United States Supreme Court, which declined to hear an appeal of Florida’s highest court that ruled the law was constitutional.

…many years ago I lived and breathed a place where stances for the public good are commonplace — The Independent Florida Alligator.

At the moment The Alligator decided to get involved in the fight, I was the chief news editor — a sort of honorary title, because I had lost the election to be editor that winter. I was working on a long-term project that would appear at the end of the semester when I would graduate. But I suppose I grabbed onto the Earnhardt story because I needed something to do. I had no idea where I was headed at graduation and needed some focus to keep an uncertain future at bay.

Some people inside the newsroom thought I was a tad bit obsessed with the story. I suppose I was. Obsession remains for me a virtue and a vice. I fondly recall spending my 22nd birthday at a court hearing in Daytona and later that evening pecking away at a laptop as Trey and Jason did phone interviews with other media. They did many such interviews that spring.

I am no longer in journalism. But I have not left behind the character I developed at The Alligator. I decided from the start at my new job that I would defend the public good not just because higher education needs a good defense but also because it is what The Alligator taught me to do.

I am no longer in journalism. But I have not left behind the character I developed at The Alligator . I decided from the start at my new job that I would defend the public good not just because higher education needs a good defense but also because it is what The Alligator  taught me to do.

I had the opportunity to cover some heady stories during my time at The Alligator — even won some awards. This is what The Alligator provides to all who enter its doors.

But every now and then, through fate or luck, something else comes along, something that transcends a “clip.” The fight for the Earnhardt autopsy records was a fight for the public good. I am honored the most my name was associated with this story. It resonates the deepest in my memory. It taught me how to stand against public opinion with courage.

Public records are under siege in our nation from various constituencies. For example, Georgia recently passed a law that allows its athletic departments up to 90 days to respond to public records requests, a significant change from the three days all other state agencies have. University of Georgia supporters, emboldened by new coach Kirby Smart, thought it would put the Dawgs on a ‘level playing field’ with schools like Alabama and Florida whose athletic departments have no strict (but hardly unreasonable) response times. I won’t hold my breath on UGA winning in Jacksonville or in Atlanta on a regular basis due to its mandated secrecy.

My experience at The Alligator taught me that public records are not for the journalists, but for the public.

My experience at The Alligator taught me that public records are not for the journalists, but for the public. My experience taught me how to be curious, how to watch my government, and more broadly, how to live out my citizenship. Now long removed from a career in news, I am not only a news junkie, but a person who knows how much journalism matters.   

Not long after my final Earnhardt story ran, in my version of The Alligator “goodbye column,” I wrote that “cranky old reporters like I will be” face a future of shouting truth from our front yards, not the front page, because at some point newspapers will stop being read. My cynical prediction has been kept at bay for 15 years now. Mainly because The Alligator keeps filling the ranks of the great papers in Florida and beyond. And you keep subscribing.

And The Alligator itself continues to seek the public good. The Alligator is an honored public institution for that very reason. It will remain so for years to come, thanks in part to alumni like us.

Matthew Boedy, Ph.D., is Assistant Professor of Rhetoric and Composition at the University of North Georgia in Gainesville, Ga.  He is on Twitter at @matthewboedy. He graduated from UF with a B.S. in Journalism in 2001.

A newsletter communication about this story incorrectly identified the Society of Professional Journalists as the Society of Professional Journalism. In 2001, the Society of Professional Journalists presented The Alligator with its annual First Amendment Award.