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MAGGIEby Mike PaulleIf the young woman were to look atherself in the mirror and ask thequestion, "Who is that person?" Heranswer would be, "That's MaggieHartnett."Maggie is what her dad called heralways, Margaret was the name hermother used when angry. Thinking of herself as Maggie, rather than Margaret,meant to her that she wasunconditionally loved and not in troublefor something.But Maggie Hartnett was forever introuble for something. Although, now,no longer in sight of her mother. MostlyMaggie's trouble at the moment waswith her job."You know when those totems on atotem pole have to poop? How it all fallsto the bottom? That's where I am now,at the bottom of the totem pole with allthe poop," she told her cousin Louis on
 
the phone from Minneapolis. Two years after graduating Cum Laudefrom the most prestigious Journalismdepartment in America at ColumbiaUniversity in New York, Maggie just thismonth got hired by the New York'bleeping' Times as she called it inprivate. "WHERE she should have beenfrom day ONE," she'd scream to friends."In a bleeping corner office, all bleepingready."She said 'bleeping' because she was anice girl and she couldn't bare to see herfather frown when she swore. But itwasn't what she would like to say. Whatshe would like to say was another thingthat forever got her into trouble.In fairness to the Times' employmentcriteria, there may have been goodreason why she wasn't hired for the jobshe was born for, right out of college.Maggie had a few extracurricularactivities mentioned in her initial post-grad interview. Like being arrested whilechained to U. S. Justice Department
 
front door."It was a protest. Remember peacefulprotests?" Maggie asked the niceinterview man at the New York Times."They let us out that day. I wasn'tbooked or anything. It's not on mypermanent record. I am not a felon. I'ma reporter!""Reporters report," the nice interviewman said, "they don't act out the news."He had a point, unfortunately, and sheknew it.Fairness was the guiding principle for MsHartnett, the new Times' cub reporter.And the lack of fairness sometimesedged her out of her reporter'sobjectivity. She was working on it."I'm working on it," Maggie told her newbest friend at the cramped desk theyshared. Laptops at an angle for privacy,the two young women were wedged intoa corner of the vast Times' mainnewsroom. Jennifer Darden, sittingbeside her, started at about the same
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