Is it Journalism? Or is it Propaganda?

A couple of months ago, my father told me something about my great-grandfather, and even my grandfather for that matter, that really made me think about my career.

Before I get into that, a little background on how I chose my profession.  When I was growing up, I wasn't allowed to watch a lot of television.  Some cartoons here, a movie there.  Mostly, I watched the news.  When we got a video camera, I would "broadcast" my own newscasts from the coffee table.  I'd highlight what we had for dinner or where we were going for the day.  During Christmas, I went "live" from our Christmas tree explaining how there were different types of Christmas carols.

When I went to college, it was only natural that I study journalism.  I went to Mizzou because my grandfather was accepted to its journalism school when he was young, but did not have the money or means to leave China.  So I was fulfilling his destiny, if you will.  I loved every moment of my experience there and on most days, I love my job now.  I always thought I was meant to work in journalism.  My great-grandfather was a writer, published in numerous magazines and newspaper in his day.  My grandfather also worked for magazines in China.  My own father is routinely published in newspapers in the U.S. (Chinese ones) and in China.  I truly believed continuing the family tradition was my fate...journalism was in my blood.

Until my father told me technically...technically, both my great-grandfather and grandfather helped spread propaganda

You know, that dirty word in the world of journalism.

Now, I suppose in China, there is no true journalism.  It is all propaganda.  My great-grandfather even became the director of propaganda at one point.  Not for the Communists, but for the Kuomingtang.  My grandfather had an amazing understanding of the English language so during the Cultural Revolution, he was forced by the Communists to spread its propaganda in English.  So it really wasn't his choice.

Nevertheless, I can't help but feel like I was led astray in a way.  Here I was, thinking I was continuing a great family tradition.  Only to find out my ancestors did the very thing that true journalism frowns upon.

Don't get me wrong, I still think my great-grandfather was an amazing man.  Reading (or listening to) my father's book is making me realize his strength in character.  He was so strong and stayed so firm to his convictions during such a difficult time in Chinese history.  He never wavered from his beliefs: never judge one's appearance, always strive to be intelligent and treat others with respect and you will receive it in return.

My grandfather as well.  But I wonder, if my grandfather had the opportunity to attend the University of Missouri School of Journalism, would he have gone back to China, where journalism is synonymous with propaganda?  Would he have taken part in that...even if he didn't have a choice?  Would he have gone on to do something else?  Of course, I don't want to think about that too much because if my grandfather had gone, I would not be here.

I still love what I do...most of the time.  And I'm glad I chose this profession...again, most of the time.  But I guess knowing my path was not as paved as I previously thought, takes some of the pressure off.  And that does feel really good.