Thursday, October 16, 2008

In Print


"My name's on this."

The student has his finger on an article in our recently-published student newspaper, smudging black ink with insistent forefinger as he points out the byline. He, like the rest of my sixth period journalism class, has the issue spread out on his desk. The classroom, usually hummingly busy, is silent this afternoon, as the staff of eighteen students, one teacher and one intern examine the fruits of the last four weeks of hard work.

"I know," I reply. "You wrote it." This seems self-explanatory to me; I can't tell what he's getting at.

He shakes his head. "Well, yeah. And now it's... it's here. In the paper!"

His surprise makes me smile. A late entry into journalism class, he wasn't one of the ones who registered last spring, those passionate seniors with heads full of vision and news leads pouring from their fingers. He arrived a week after school began, regretfully returning to Ingraham for the second year. Given an apparently sparce choice of open electives for sixth period, he must have shrugged and chosen this one without much idea of what it would be like. Since he was a former student, I was aware of both his vast capability and sketchy attendance record, so on his third day I assigned him to write a brief article explaining the electoral college. Now it's this article--with his name under the headline "The Electoral College: What is It?"--that holds him transfixed by the miracle of publication.

At the beginning of the year, one of the senior visionaries declared that a student newspaper was important because it gave many students the opportunity to be published. I remember being impressed, but not taking much time to consider the value of that point. Today I understand what they meant, as I watch this student experience, for the first time, the paradoxical exhilaration and vulnerability of having his words read by others.

2 comments:

Donna said...

Congratulations! I can hardly wait to see the paper. Be sure to bring extras to send to the proud grandmas.

theothermistered said...

Don't forget this proud uncle . . .