Over my three years at The Gazelle, few things have remained unchanged. One of these is the pattern of bureaucratic resistance that student journalists face when reporting on contentious issues or administrative decisions.

The relationship between administrative officials and student journalists — in any setting, let alone in UAE’s complex media climate — is bound to be adversarial in certain scenarios. In conversation with administrators across the board, I have often been met by a deep distrust of and lingering skepticism in the student reporters that cover the institution.

Upon interrogation, I have at times stumbled upon disheartening sentiments that range from allegations of bias and lack of goodwill to substandard reporting. Rejecting or slow-rolling requests to interview, provide comment or even speak off-the-record has quite unfortunately become a common practice. On other occasions, even when interview requests are obliged with, reporters may be asked to provide a list of questions, allow prior review — which goes against The Gazelle’s policies — and may even be met with hostility over past critical reporting.

In an ideal setting, student reporters at The Gazelle would be working the phones of the top administrators at NYU Abu Dhabi. Instead, access to newsmakers and senior administrators is strategically rationed. We are routinely advised to work with the university's public relations office to schedule interviews. This conservative approach to engaging with student journalism — marked by a thinly-veiled veneer of damage control — highlights that many administrators see an independent student-led newspaper as a liability, instead of the asset that it is.

This culture is deeply troubling. And what is more unfortunate is that administrators engage in such practices at their own expense. A common complaint is that stories often do not appreciate context and constraints. Here, administrators must realize that by choosing to not cooperate with student reporters, they lead to the publication of the exact stories that appear biased or lacking in goodwill. By choosing not to speak with reporters, you are actively making a decision to not share the institution’s side of the story. By choosing to ask for a list of questions instead of participating in an interview, you are successfully preventing meaningful dialogue and follow-ups — which yield important context and background that the reporter, and the rest of the community, may not be aware of. This is what leads to one-sided stories such as this or stories that may be overly speculative or lack thoroughness. Imagine yourself to be an incoming first-year student. Or a prospective Masters candidate. What kind of stories would you want to read about the institution?

The university administration should have a vested interest in how these stories are told. It should have a vested interest in ensuring that reporters that are covering campus issues, which are often riddled by controversy and sensitivity, are equipped with the information and context needed to appropriately discuss and understand the issues at hand.

Beyond the lofty goal of a mature and informed campus discourse, there is an important gain that administrators make when they cooperate with student journalists. There is no more of an effective reputation management strategy for a university department or administrator than to share context and rationale with student reporters. It exhibits that you are sensitive to student perspectives, humanizes you and your department and paints you as accessible, all the while also allowing you to influence the narrative by articulating your side of the story.

In an era in which local news has been hollowed out to the core, student journalists play an integral role in covering local communities and stories. They tell stories that mainstream publications would not pick up but still need to be told. At The Gazelle, over the years, we have reported on local issues that The National or The Khaleej Times would not pick up. Stories like this, this, or this. These are all stories of local significance, stories that people should be reading but not the stories most well-resourced media outlets choose to tell. Here too, the institution must recognize the significant journalistic contributions of The Gazelle to the local community.

Further, what seems to have been forgotten is that the mission of quality student journalism and higher education coincide perfectly. A true liberal arts and sciences education seeks the same ends and makes the same promises as quality journalism: to provide people with the resources to effectively participate in democratic societies, to critically interrogate existing power structures and hold them accountable, to pursue truth above all else and to make ordinary lives better. When the NYUAD administration obstructs quality student journalism, it obstructs many things, but perhaps it obstructs nothing as seriously as it does the lofty values on which this institution is predicated.

The confines of a true liberal arts education must not be the physical classroom. The promises that it makes must extend over to A4-006 — the production room that The Gazelle has traditionally occupied, which is ironically also a classroom. Beyond answering interview requests, providing reporters with information and inculcating a culture that encourages critical reporting, institutional support takes a variety of forms. Good journalism requires expertise. It requires rigorous training and qualified mentors and advisors. It requires a no-strings-attached sustainable budget. It also requires an acknowledgment that student journalists will make mistakes along the way. But with the right support and investment, student journalism will only get better.

Since its inception, The Gazelle has proudly maintained its editorial independence by remaining self-funded. Over the years, we have relied on self-training and faculty resources to produce good journalism. On both sides of the aisle — within the administration and at The Gazelle — there has been hesitation in talking about what administrative support to independent journalism looks like. The answers to these considerations will not be easy. But one thing remains quite clear: in order to function effectively, The Gazelle needs administrative support and investment.

At a moment when journalism is facing one of its greatest existential crises, amid the dark labyrinth of fake news and jarring assaults on free press, it is easy to dismiss young and inexperienced journalists. But doing so has significant implications beyond university grounds and The Gazelle’s production room. It is time higher education does better. It is time that the NYUAD administration does better.