The Barceloneta newspaper wasn’t a dream.
It was as much a part of our reality as the Torín bullring or the San Sebastià baths. It was a factor that helped enrich the sense of community among neighbors, thanks to the print media in our neighborhood.
For twenty years, the newspaper hit the streets on time, without missing a single month. The driving force behind this publication was Ester Marin, a girl from Barceloneta—like many of us—from a family of fishermen, who one day set herself the goal of publishing a free newspaper where people could read the news and the most relevant events taking place on our streets.
The early days were very tough. Barceloneta is a challenging neighborhood; community life is very strong, yet at the same time very fragile; one must tread very carefully—when publishing—so as not to offend readers’ sensibilities.
Ester handled this task all by herself. She gathered information, verified the news, conducted interviews, sought out advertisers to provide funding, and—most difficult of all—collected payment for the advertisements; finally, she personally delivered the 5,000 copies. All of this—which was enough work for three or four people—she did on her own. She had to sacrifice opportunities to pursue other, better-paying jobs for which she was—by far—more than qualified. But the newspaper was her life, a project in which she had placed all her hopes.
I don’t know exactly when I realized just how important it was for me—and for Barceloneta—to have a print publication accessible to all residents, at a time when everything was already starting to be communicated via Facebook and WhatsApp.
Back then, I was contributing to several media outlets as a freelancer: *La Vanguardia*, *El País*, *El Periódico*… I offered my services, and Ester gladly accepted. From then on, I published photographs every month, as well as the occasional article, with the aim of lightening the load for the newspaper’s editor—all on a volunteer basis.
We neighbors eagerly awaited the arrival of those 10 sheets—20 pages of news from a neighborhood that never sleeps. The port, the beach, the streets, tourism, the neighborhood, businesses, industries, real estate speculation, evictions, squatting, and a myriad of problems that Ester put on paper, bringing them to light so that we neighbors could voice our opinions and get involved through opinion pieces or letters to the editor.
Then COVID-19 hit, and businesses closed. Advertising dried up, and the newspaper ceased publication due to a lack of resources. For a few months, everything came to a standstill, including the loss of lives—45 at the Bertràn i Oriola nursing home. When things returned to normal, the newspaper’s situation remained precarious. The director has to find a job to make ends meet, and it is in this situation that the Pla Comunitario association takes the opportunity to make a proposal to Ester Marin, which, at first glance, is presented as a form of assistance. An agreement was reached: Ester Marin would continue to run the Diari de la Barceloneta, remain its director, and continue producing the newspaper as before, while the association would handle administration, collections, payments, advertising, etc. They would not interfere with the newspaper’s editorial stance or its content; in exchange, Ester would receive a salary.
Although the contract was for part-time work, and the salary was the same or lower than what she had earned before the pandemic, she is in no position to negotiate. She is well aware that they are fully aware of her vulnerable situation, so she accepted on the condition that I be part of the new board, which would consist of four members: the president of the association, a young woman who said nothing—aware of the role she was meant to play—editor-in-chief Ester Marin, and me, Vicenç Forner.
The first meeting we had as a board was to choose the masthead for the new newspaper. The president presented four options for us to choose from, making it very clear that he had already decided which one was the most appropriate. The front-page design was also presented, on which the president would write an article signed with his name—even though I had told him that front-page articles aren’t signed.
Finally, the first issue of the new newspaper came out as planned. It was quite an event.
While we were preparing the second issue, we were called to a second meeting. On that occasion, the president took a slightly more aggressive stance. He tried to dictate the content of the newspaper to the editor-in-chief, to which Ester replied, “That’s not going to happen here.” Then the president—and I quote—replied, “You’re an employee; if you don’t do what I tell you, you’re fired, and you can take the newspaper with you—we’ll just make our own.”
A sense of helplessness and despair overwhelmed Ester Marin. It was as if she’d been shot right in the heart. I saw her clench her fists, and with tears in her eyes, she walked out the door—and to this day, five years later, no one has seen her again.
It’s clear that all of this was a ploy by the Community Plan to shut down the Diari de la Barceloneta. It seems that the newspaper’s impartiality—and the fact that neither the news coverage nor its editor-in-chief could be manipulated—led to its demise. Ester Marin tried to contact the Community Plan board to explain what had happened; she didn’t succeed—they wouldn’t even show their faces. But I did manage to corner them one by one on the street. I explained to them how things had gone. They didn’t listen to me either. That board was unable to stand up to the president, claiming that they believed his version of events, that they had complete confidence in him, and that—as they’d been told—the editor wasn’t cut out for teamwork.
Mayor Collboni’s City Council has finally cleaned house within the Community Plan and kicked everyone out; now we wait for a new board. Ester Marin, justice has finally been served. A little late.
Today, the neighborhood enjoys a new quarterly magazine: *Esencia Barceloneta*. On a positive note, I’m writing these lines today to pay tribute to Ester Marin and express the gratitude of the residents of the Lòstia neighborhood.
