The recent photo of Elon Musk standing in a cabinet meeting in T-shirt and ballcap brought back an unpleasant memory for me.
In the spring of 2008, I was summoned to the managing editor’s office to discuss a redesign of the Travel section, which I had been editor of for 18 years. The m.e. sat quietly at her desk while a ballcapped young man I had never seen before explained his plans for my section. These involved discontinuing long travel narratives – three of which had landed in The Best American Travel Writing anthologies – and diminishing my presence. My column, he noted blithely, would now appear below the fold and jump inside.
I had no idea who this man was. I wondered, naturally, about his background – his knowledge of travel writing, his experience of travel. I assumed they were slim, and that he had been given the job of remaking the section primarily because of his age and his presumed ability to connect with younger readers (an oxymoron even back then).
I sat mostly speechless, and with the sudden realization that the world had changed, at least in the newsroom, and that people like me were no longer welcome. A few months later, I was laid off.
