Young writers, young readers

At a glance, Vox looks like any number of other grass-roots, urban, alternative newspapers: eye-catching anarchic cartoons and coverage of such subjects as violence, hunger, teen pregnancy, or black/Jewish relations, all laced with a bit of attitude and street talk. The striking difference, though, is that Vox: The Voice of Our Generation, is written and designed entirely by teenagers. Vox's staff members are between thirteen and nineteen, most are girls, and more than half are African-American; its readership (estimated at 40,000) is about the same.

In May 1993, thirteen teenagers from all over metropolitan Atlanta, with the help of their sole paid adult adviser, twenty-three-year-old Rachel Alterman, launched Vox out of Alterman's apartment. A former Scholastic, Inc. intern, she had been inspired by NYC, another youth-run newspaper.

Only a third of teens in the South and less than half of urban teens nationwide read a newspaper regularly, but Vox seemed to break through. Although Vox is not officially connected to Atlanta's schools they have consistently been its main distribution venue, and the premiere issue -- which included a report on teen-agers who have children -- was a hit with both teachers and students.

The second issue, however, did not please everyone in the Atlanta-area school community. It had far more substance than the first -- lengthy and thoughtful reportage on teen violence, Atlanta's mayoral elections, and alternative schools. It also featured SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW, a sympathetic story on a local support group for gay teen-agers. That got Vox banned from one major school system, Clayton County in suburban Atlanta, which has a policy against presenting homosexuality as an acceptable way of life.

The incident angered and worried the Vox team. Since a 1988 Supreme Court decision --Hazelwood vs. Kuhlmeier--granted school officials wideranging authority over the content of high school papers (see "Fallout from Hazelwood," CJR, May/June 1988), young journalists have been far more subject to adult censorship, but Vox, operating independently of any school, was supposed to be free from such constraints.

As it turned out, the censors ultimately did Vox a favor. Local TV was abuzz with the story and The Atlanta Constitution's staid editorialists took the Clayton County principals to task, praising Vox's "ideals and passion," and excerpting a Vox editorial by Clayton County high-schooler Candie Stiles, headlined ADULTS, WAKE UP! KNOWLEDGE IS POWER! The Vox team distributed the paper to Clayton County in person at youth centers, community colleges, libraries, and health clinics. As a result of the publicity, more students started reading Vox and more joined its staff, which is now up to fifty.

Vox, meanwhile, has continued to cover the explosive terrain of the culture wars, running not only articles that explore gay issues but opinion pieces promoting, for example, condom use and opposing voluntary school prayer, including "moments of silence."

The independent bimonthly is one of the newest in a recent wave of independent newspapers by and for urban teenagers, all part of a loose seventeen-year-old network known as Youth Communication. In 1977, the first YC paper, New Expression, was founded in Chicago, by educators Craig Trygstad and Sister Ann Heintz, both of whom were inspired in part by the radical theories and practices in education of that era, which stressed hands-on learning and individual expression. Youth papers in Delaware, New York, Toronto, Los Angeles, and Boston followed New Expression.

Now, in the '90s, Youth Communication seems to be taking off again. New YC papers, meanwhile, have popped up in Indianapolis (Teen Track); San Francisco (YO!); Washington, D.C. (Young D.C.); Detroit (Motown Teen); Hartford (Metro Bridge); New Haven (Progeny); and Palm Beach County, Florida (Spike), as well as Atlanta's Vox.

Funding tends to be independent youth papers' biggest problem, and Vox is no exception. Sometimes local papers help out. Vox has been discussing a relationship with the Journal-Constitution, since the current combination of foundation grants, donated office space, corporate sponsorships, subscriptions, and individual contributions isn't proving to be enough. To a crew that puts out a tabloid paper on a nine-inch Macintosh, the resources of a large metropolitan daily look pretty inviting.

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