An Hour With Pioneering Journalist & ‘The Takeaway’ Host Tanzina Vega
Tanzina Vega in studio. Photo by Matthew Septimus
Throughout her 20-plus year career in media, including various roles at The New York Times, CNN, and now, as host of WNYC and Public Radio International’s The Takeaway; journalist Tanzina Vega has remained ahead of the curve while navigating today’s evolving media landscape through her innate ability to pinpoint a solid story—whether it be racial inequality, the pandemic wall, or Latinx identity.
With May marking three years since she first sat in The Takeaway’s host chair, Intervenxions caught up with Vega to discuss charting the race beat in mainstream media, mothering as a solo parent during the pandemic, sage advice on excelling in journalism, and more.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Janel Martinez: You are the host of The Takeaway, a dedicated mother, and you hold a number of titles. Can you walk me, and essentially our audience, through what a typical day is like for you?
Tanzina Vega: Believe it or not, I am still trying to figure out a typical day, and I don't mean that jokingly. It really is the truth. I gave birth in January 2020, right as the pandemic was starting to rear its ugly head and went right into lockdown. My maternity leave was in lockdown, and then started the show in May. I came back the week that George Floyd was killed. And so my past 15 months have really been atypical in every sense of the word.
What I'm trying to do because I'm learning how to be both a mother for the first time while a full-time radio host and doing it in a pandemic, which means you're doing it from home, right in this bizarre working from home world that we have, so this is not what I expected things to look like. But generally speaking, what I'm trying to get to is a place where every day I wake up at five o'clock in the morning, that means every day, seven days a week, every single day, I try to get some coffee and a little bit of quiet time that's either just for me, or just to kind of wake up and look at the news and process what's happening, and just have about 20, 30 minutes to just make a bottle for the baby and make some coffee for myself and just kind of wake up. My son is usually up close to 6:00 a.m., so from that point on it's trying to get him ready now for daycare, which I've just started trying to get him dressed and out the door for daycare, so that I can make it back to my apartment for hosting the show, which I have to be sitting in the host chair at about 7:15 in the morning.
At that point, I go into the coat closet, or I should say infamous coat closet at this point, and that's where I have all of my recording equipment set up. I'm able to connect directly to the studio in New York City. I may not be in the actual New York City studio, but our engineers are in that studio in New York and so I have a bunch of equipment that allows me to press a button and connect to that studio. Because we're all mostly working remotely, a lot of us are communicating on Slack and on Zoom, and yet we're still putting together a live radio show. I sit in the chair, I do a lot of reviewing of the script, rewriting of the script, refocusing the script, if I need to, talking about the top to bottom of the show and just really making sure that the T's are crossed, the I's are dotted, the facts have not evolved. News moves so quickly right now that what happened last night might not be accurate the morning after. So making sure that it really is a rock solid show: I mean everything from introductions to questions to numbers to sound that we use. I do a final pass on all of that and then we do the show. After that, it's a bunch of meetings. We're a daily news show, so immediately after our show is over at the 9 a.m. live broadcast, we all huddle together to talk about the next day's show. So we're already thinking about, okay, what are we doing tomorrow? We assess how this day went. We're doing a lot of that, a lot of meetings, a lot of editorial conversations are happening. Maybe some additional interviews are happening. Then by about two o'clock, I'm done with the work day, more or less, then I have to start the mom day as a solo parent.
So, running out to get something to eat, getting ready for my son to come home, making sure he's bathed, fed, played with, you know, and all of those other things, and then also trying to handle my own daily needs, like food and things like that. It's amazing. It's also exhausting and it's beautiful and it's really tiring. It's also isolating, but it's also really important. Generally, I'm done for the day by eight thirty, nine o'clock in the evening.
JM: You grew up on the Lower East Side. You went to a performing arts high school, graduated from Stony Brook and then CUNY Journalism School, so you've experienced various versions of NYC and also life in general. As a journalist, how has your identity and many of these life experiences informed the way that you report and document stories?
TV: We talk a lot about the media being so white or lacking in diversity. On the surface of that, there is a very glaring physical lack of people of color, Black people, [non-Black] Latinos, Asian people, et cetera and then that's reflected also in the coverage of who we cover and how we cover them. There's also a really glaring—at least in the larger news organizations that I've worked for, The New York Times, CNN, etc., even to a certain extent, public radio— class gap. I went to public school. I lived in public housing. Even for my graduate degree, I went to City University of New York. These are all financial decisions that I had to make that were informed by my interest, but also driven by my income.
I was very interested in going to journalism school and very interested in studying sociology as an undergrad. I only could do those things in places that I could afford to be in, and so I take a lens at inequality often and that's how my reporting has evolved over the years; it's often also meant to include that layer of class inequality.
Tanzina Vega in studio. Photo by Matthew Septimus
When I started working, I think when I was at The New York Times, it was sort of a very broad based lens on race. We had just experienced the Ferguson-Michael Brown case and so that was at the forefront of everyone's mind. There were lots of emerging conversations that we're having today that at that time had just begun to sort of percolate: Black Lives Matter, for example, was one of those things. By the time I got to CNN Business, I decided at that point that my focus on inequality would really turn to include Black and brown Americans. But really looking at the racial wealth gap and looking at how income inequality compounds race inequality. A lot of times those things are totally connected. I really focused on where the money elements of inequality were going, everything from fees and fines in the criminal justice system to our general wealth inequality. Money, race and inequality really became the focus then. Having worked and growing up in public housing and gone to public school, I've always been very hyper aware of that element.
I identify as a woman, so there's a lot there that I think also informs my reporting. But at the end of the day, I'm looking for a good story.
JM: You were at news organizations when these conversations were just beginning, in the context of having a beat, what is it like to experience and see the transition and growth of this type of coverage?
TV: I never set out for the race beat to just be its own separate thing, I kind of assumed I was trying to fill a gap. That a lot of reporters weren't filling because race coverage often is separated when coverage of race is coverage of this country. We're just not doing it right because journalists have ignored or siphoned off that coverage. I'll never forget somebody thought I was the Hispanic Affairs reporter at The Times, and I was like, no, no, [that’s] not what I'm doing, but I understand why you can make that mistake. We often put these issues in big boxes and say, okay, you handle this, you write about that, you write about gender, you write about this and the third, and the thing is that all of these areas are, you know, race is part of this. I mean, this country was founded on chattel slavery and the genocide of Native Americans to say that that race isn't embedded in everything that we do it just is wrong.
Frankly, our media didn't really focus on that outside of the sort of momentary gaps in coverage that we would have or the momentary pieces of coverage that we would have, and then they would go back to the status quo. I think what's changed now is that there is enough noise. One of the things that I think experience offers is the understanding that things take time and they evolve. Sometimes they evolve quickly, sometimes they evolve more slowly. But I think this is all part of incremental change. What happened at the race beat, what happened at other organizations, what happened with Ferguson, and now what we saw last summer are all intimately connected.
What gives me reason for pause in some of this is as quickly as they [media organizations] can make a race beat is as quickly as they can take it away. So what gives me pause is that race as a subject to cover will still be seen as a separate thing that can be put in and taken away. These are things that are considered hot at the moment and then not, whereas our reporting across the board needs to be infused with an understanding of class and race in this country. At that point, you'll be able to see core beats, like business and sports and other things, really integrating this thinking into their reporting. That's what ultimately I'd like to be able to see.
JM: At this time, with all the reporting that you've done and, in particular as host [of The Takeaway], what are you most excited about at this time in terms of what you're covering, whether it's something that you recently covered or something that is in the works and coming down the pipeline?
TV: I'm somebody that came to the parenting game very late, right? So I have the breath of non-parenting experience, which is valid. I lived a child-free life for the majority of my life, and happily did that. Now, I'm in a new position that I think as a solo parent, as an older parent, as a full-time professional, solo parent, who also happens to be Latina, I'm learning about a whole world that I thought, at least at the policy level (and this pandemic has really exacerbated that) how child care in this country is a mess. Of course, I'm doing this through the eyes of a pandemic parenting year, which is not typical for any of us. But I experienced this full on for the first time and this whole work-life balance is a myth. It's a total myth. It does not exist.
Tanzina Vega in studio. Photo by Matthew Septimus
Well, I would say it's largely a myth, I'd love to meet people who have it, and I think learning that and learning about all of the areas where this country, like I've spent the bulk of my career talking about where this country fails communities of color, and also the challenges that communities of color face, particularly low income communities, in trying to integrate into society and trying to get a piece of “the American dream.” When you add now this added layer that I have, as a parent, as a solo parent, as a mother of color, as a full-time professional woman who also happens to be a parent, what I'm seeing...We've been doing a lot of reporting on this on the show, we can't—this country cannot function if we keep treating parents and working parents in particular.
What I'm interested in is really looking at how the American family has evolved, and really left us holding the bag. That being professional women of color, in particular; I don't want to speak for all women, I don't want to speak for all professional women, I'm not speaking for all women of color. In my experience, this has opened my eyes to a whole new set of inequities that have to be addressed and dealt with. And we're seeing a lot of that reporting coming out about the millions of women who have left the workforce because of the pandemic. I'm interested in looking at that. Then, where [do] we go from here post pandemic? What does a new world look like? Because I don't think a lot of people want the old world, but it's going to be hard to get a new one in there.
JM: At this moment, I'm curious, what inspires you—whether it's a podcast, books, or art? Especially in that hour of the day that you have for yourself, what are those things that are inspiring you, or keeping you grounded?
TV: Well, I'll be honest, it's down to the very simple things. Right now, I don't want to sound corny, but honestly, it's peace and quiet. It's hearing birds chirping outside. It's the sun coming out. It's taking a walk around the neighborhood. It's also these people who have been so kind to me in surprising moments. I don't have the traditional support network, but there are certain people who have just shown up in really amazing ways.
There was a friend of mine who made a whole freakin’ lasagna and brought it over to me. She doesn't live in Queens and I was like, ‘oh, my gosh, thank you.’ I'm not used to that.
It really is whenever I can get a moment of peace and quiet, where I can turn off social media and the yelling and screaming, where I can sort of turn off some of the craziness and just sit and breathe for a minute, and have that cup of coffee.
JM: This is something that is of interest to me, and also many others, what is that one piece of advice—whether it's your own gem, something that was shared with you, or something that just sticks out—that you would give to storytellers and journalists?
TV: I have two things. First of all, talk to people. When I say talk to people, I mean talk to people. Don't text them only; don't only email them. Actually, verbally, speak to people, whether that's on the phone, in person, somehow on Zoom, whatever, to try your best to actually speak to people.
Tanzina Vega in studio. Photo by Matthew Septimus
I taught that in Princeton. At some point you're going to have to get away from the screen and you're going to have to go into a community. You're going to have to have a conversation and, oftentimes, that's where you get some of the best reporting is [in] an actual conversation with people. Sometimes people are more likely to want to talk to you if it's not in writing, to be honest. Sometimes people just want to say something and they don't want to text it. They don't want to email it. So you have to have facility in all types of communication. My biggest thing is always try to talk to people, like, actually speak to them.
The second thing would be to interrogate ideas, even the ones that you might feel in line with because you're a journalist. This is not, I'm not pushing for a false equivalency here, not trying to do that. But you have to interrogate ideas. When I say interrogate, I mean really think about where is it coming from? Who's benefiting from this idea? Who's pushing this idea? Who stands to lose from this idea? I think that that'll give you a clearer sense of the difference often between journalism and activism; sometimes those two things can go hand in hand. Sometimes they can't, particularly if you're reporting, because one day you may find yourself reporting on the activist community that you're covering and so you may have to pull out different tools for that. Interrogate ideas, and slogans, and jargon the same way you would anything else that you come up against. It doesn't mean you have to end up disagreeing with it, but it just means you have to really look at it and say, okay, what is this?
JM: We are living in a time where being in the moment is really key. I respect and understand being present in the moment. I'd love to know, though, what is next for you?
TV: Honestly, what's next for me is literally the basics. We're in a pandemic. If I can make a week at the beach happen this summer, that will be the biggest achievement for me on a personal level. I mean, I can't even dream that big right now just because we're coming out of such a difficult moment.
What's next for me is getting my kid and I out into the world a little bit more. What's next for me is really honing in on some of these larger reporting topics that we've been talking about. I miss writing more, so I might start dipping my toe back in some of that, and, I think, the big question is what's next for all of us as we emerge from this pandemic? I think that's where I'm starting to look and see.
But a new life must be created after what we just went through. I feel I'm at the very beginning of that new chapter in my life, with my boy, and, hopefully, with just being able to have more interaction and take him out and have a summer that's a little bit more fulfilling than last summer.
Janel Martinez is a multimedia journalist & the founder of award-winning blog, Ain't I Latina?, an online destination celebrating Afro-Latinx womanhood. The Bronx, NY native holds a BA in Magazine Journalism & Sociology from Syracuse University. Her writing has appeared in Adweek, BuzzFeed, ESSENCE, Oprah Magazine, & Remezcla, among other publications. She is a frequent public speaker discussing media, culture & identity, as well as diversity at conferences & events for Bloomberg, NBCU, SXSW, Harvard University & more. Her work will be included in the forthcoming anthology, Wild Tongues Can't Be Tamed, which will be published in fall 2021 by Flatiron Books.