A Journalist and Architect Are More Similar Than They Seem to Be
William J. Drummond is an American journalist who teaches at the UC Berkeley Graduate School of Journalism. He holds a Bachelor’s degree from UC Berkeley and a Master’s degree from Columbia University. A 1976 White House Fellow, Drummond has extensive experience reporting for the Louisville Courier-Journal and the Los Angeles Times. He has won several awards for his work, such as the Sidney Hillman Foundation Award for Journalism Excellence, the Award for Outstanding Coverage of the Black Condition from the National Association of Black Journalists, and a National Press Club Foundation Award. But that’s not how I met him.
I first came across Drummond in a conversation that floated down the corridors of the J-School, as two admiring students lingered near the water filter. “I’m taking a class with Professor Drummond this semester,” said one student. “Oh wow. You’re lucky. I worked with him last semester, he’s great,” agreed the other one. While I’ve heard a lot of star-struck students call their professors great, there was something almost magnetically different about this particular affectation—a loud emphasis on the g and a soft trail off on the t. Like every other Berkeley student, I whipped out my phone and searched up his LinkedIn profile. Unlike the conventional feed that functions as a documentation of personal accomplishment, Drummond’s posts were unusually communal, reminding me of a mystery room where one door leads to another. There was an inherent sense of warmth in his writing as he shared about his students and colleagues, announcing their achievements almost as though they were his own.
He also linked articles written by fellow journalists that gave a voice to the voiceless, with Remembering Robert Shadric, A Long Time Presence being one of them. Written by Kate Darby Rauch and published in The Berkeley Scanner in January 2025, the piece described the monumental significance that the life of a homeless man had in the neighborhood he lived in. “If you ever spent time on the north side of the UC campus during the past 30 years, you likely saw this man. You won’t anymore,” says Drummond in his LinkedIn post, as an icy pang of loss struck my heart. I was grieving the loss of someone I had never met.
I wanted to interview—or rather talk to—Drummond. After an hour of research, I came across his contact details on the UC Berkeley Journalism School page and sent him an email, not expecting a response. “I want to cover your life for my class project,” I wrote, letting my excitement run rampant across the page like a wild stallion.
Within a day, Drummond responded. By then, I had already realized something about him. He wasn’t just a journalist. He embodied journalism in the real sense of the practice, exemplifying the objective “fly-on-the-wall” neutrality that the profession demands.
I’ve always understood journalism as the byproduct of effective human interaction that needs to be archived in words for the fear of it being lost. However, Drummond didn’t just chronicle conversations—he used his words to construct a safe space that would facilitate several such conversations and interactions for years to come. This made me realize that a journalist and an architect are more similar than they seem to be. In their own unique way, both professions are deeply involved in the art of building a safe and memorable home.I wrote back to Drummond, restating my desire to meet him, my tone apologetically persuasive. “I admire persistence,” he responded.
We decided to meet virtually on Saturday at 3 p.m.
