Columns by Dori J. Maynard

My first job out of college was in Bakersfield, Calif., far from the Northeast where I was born and raised.

There were a multitude of differences that required not only an adjustment but also a complete recalibration of what I expected from the world. Bakersfield was far from a culture of Sunday brunches, The New York Times and Woody Allen-loving moviegoers. In those early 1980s, New Yorkers were still unabashed Allen fans.

By far the biggest difference was the everyday role that guns played in the lives of many friends and colleagues.

“He’s got his hand in his waistband, and he’s a black male.”

 — George Zimmerman to a 911 operator shortly before he fatally shot Trayvon Martin

When people ask why I do the work I do, sometimes I tell the truth — because I don’t want my brothers shot.

At a time when two reports are heralding the importance of journalistic collaboration in this age of rapid media transformation, an Oakland, CA jury succinctly made just that point when it convicted Yusuf Bey IV and Antoine Mackey of murdering journalist Chauncey Bailey.

Last Friday’s Real Time with Bill Maher was playing when my brother’s text arrived telling me that Osama bin Laden was dead.

While much of the rest of the country waited for President Obama to address the nation, I watched conservative commentator Andrew Breitbart echo others calling for the release of the president’s college records and suggesting that he didn’t write his first book.