Ten Years of DIY News — and Why It Still Matters
Hey folks. This edition is a big one: it marks ten full years of publishing The Local every month in print. Ten! 🤯
When we first started this paper, we weren’t trying to fix American media or make some grand statement about journalism. We were just neighbors who wanted to tell stories that didn’t quite have a home anywhere else — stories written by people who live here, for people who live here, about the things unfolding right in front of us.
At the time, it felt like a creative experiment. Looking back now, it feels more like a quiet act of self-defense.
Because over the past few decades, something fundamental has shifted in how news works in this country. And if you’ve ever had the sense that you’re constantly surrounded by information yet still struggling to understand what actually matters — if the news feels loud but strangely hollow — you’re not imagining things.
How the Noise Took Over
Recently, historian Heather Cox Richardson offered a helpful way to make sense of this moment. Drawing on decades of media history, she revisited an old idea from television strategist Roger Ailes known as the “orchestra pit” theory.
The image is simple. Picture two people on a stage. One is calmly explaining a complicated issue — something important but nuanced, like housing policy, labor law, or public spending. The other suddenly falls into the orchestra pit.
Which one ends up on the evening news? 🤔 🎻🎺🎷💥
If given the choice between drama and meaningful discourse, we pick drama every time! In a world where our attention is a commodity, American media learned to reward spectacle over substance. The louder and more emotionally charged a story was, the more likely it was to be noticed, shared, and monetized.
The result is a media environment that’s endlessly animated by outrage and distraction, while the slower, less theatrical decisions that actually shape our everyday lives often pass by unnoticed.
Closer to Home

Most of what affects us day-to-day doesn’t happen on a national stage. It happens in zoning hearings, school board meetings, planning documents, budget votes, and policy language that is anything but dramatic. These are not orchestra-pit stories. They don’t lend themselves to viral clips or heated panels. They require patience, attention, and context.
When those stories aren’t covered — or are flattened into a broad, corporate narrative — communities lose more than information. They lose memory. They lose continuity. They lose the ability to connect cause and effect.
Even in a city like Philadelphia, “local news” often ends up sounding remarkably uniform across outlets. That’s not a coincidence. Many publications rely on the same funding sources, sponsorship models, and institutional incentives, which naturally shape what gets covered and how. Stories are filtered until they’re safe, streamlined, and broadly appealing — or quietly dropped if they don’t promise enough attention in return.
We saw this dynamic up close during our time in WHYY’s News & Information Community Exchange. The program was built on a promising idea: support grassroots publishers and fill gaps in local coverage. In practice, the emphasis often landed on helping small outlets become more like large institutions, rather than strengthening the very differences that made them valuable.
Talk about a missed opportunity. Communities don’t just need more news. They need news that is rooted, specific, and accountable to the people living with the consequences.
The Case for Small Media
Rights aren’t just ideas we agree on. They’re practices that need exercise. What good is “freedom of the press” if only billionaires can afford presses?
Not everyone needs to publish a newspaper. But someone, somewhere in every neighborhood, should be able to document what’s happening — without asking permission, without chasing clicks, and without worrying whether a sponsor might object.
We’ve seen it in action! Google “Germantown Special Services District fail” or “McMichael Park playground dispute” if you want proof that small press can crack open local conversations and nudge real-world outcomes that might never have happened otherwise.
It isn’t always tidy. It certainly isn’t flawless. But it’s honest, and grounded in place.
Independent community news — handmade, volunteer-fueled, typo-ridden — remains one of the purest forms of free press we have. Every word is written for real people, not advertisers, boards, donors, or government offices. And every page travels freely outside digital influences that divide us.
All Hands on Deck

Heather Cox Richardson closes her reflection by looking back to another era of media consolidation, when a publisher named S.S. McClure concluded that when powerful institutions fail to uphold the public good, the responsibility falls to everyone else.
“There is no one left,” he wrote, “none but all of us.”
As we say at The Local: Who needs a press pass? 😎 Just go where things are happening, pay attention, and speak up. There’s only one rule: Document. Document. Document.
If you see ICE. If you see protesters. If you attend a community meeting. If someone needs help telling their story. Keep your eyes peeled.
- Be ready to record (a good zoom is gold).
- If you need help, call us.
- If you want a platform, we’ll make space.
- If you want to buy a newspaper, cheap — we may know a guy. 😏
And just by reading this paper, you’re already part of the stubborn coalition keeping grassroots news alive. Ten years in, our takeaway is simple: you don’t need anyone’s permission to seek the truth and share it. Godspeed, fellow citizens!

📰 Five Ways Print Serves a Community
- Print resists disinformation.
It costs money to make, so it naturally filters out spam, trolls, and conspiracy churn. - Print creates a record.
Stories don’t disappear into the feed. They live in drawers, folders, archives, and memory. - Print reaches everyone.
No algorithm, no paywall, no login, no battery. Anyone can pick it up. - Print slows you down.
It invites attention instead of hijacking it — a rare, peaceful thing. - Print builds community.
It’s tangible proof that your neighborhood exists, matters, and has something to say.
What do you think? Click the links (and watch the videos) for more information. And check out our print archive for to see how it all started with MakeMyNewspaper.com! 😆 Drop your thoughts in the comments below, or email us at editor@nwlocalpaper.com.

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