Weekend Update

Well, this week has been good and I actually learned something. I learned how to package the newspaper and how to burn it to take it to the printer. Voot! Well, I sorta knew how, but Greg helped me understand it WAY better. Now I just gotta get my new editors in on the process for next year.

But on deadline night, I didn't stay in the lab like I'd hoped to in order to learn InDesign. . .I felt like hanging out on the couch. . .one of those coma days I guess. The pea soup was there off and on, but for the most part I felt ok. The kids are learning it, though, which is the important part. Lauren showed up, who is a very talented freshmen, and she is my hope for editor-in-chief in the future.

So, I guess I passed and I failed. I'd give the week a C+.

Lists of my Brain

I have notebooks filled with lists. Lists of things to do and ideas and brainstorms and other general stuff. This proves that I am brilliant. Yet very little of the crap in the notebooks gets implemented. Why? Because I have a real bad case of depression. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

Of course, I have a shrink that could show you my inches thick folder, since I've been seeing him since 1995ish. I'm a certifiable loon.

But this brilliance, combined with melancholy, is what makes me a rich character. I'm dynamic, not static. I'm up and down and around and sideways. I keep the lights on full blast most of the time, but I turn the lights down and try to put myself into a coma some days. I always have a song playing in my head, but some days I can't hear the words.

At least I know who I am. . .now. I didn't for a long time. This is one of the benefits of being in the 40-something category. But that's a different blog.

So, how is this relevant to my present journey, the story at hand? Because it's like I have a learning disability; a thick fog of fucking pea soup that coats my brain at times. This gets in the way of me absorbing information related to the programs I must learn. I have really smart mentors in Greg, Jared and Pi, but can I learn the stuff??? Holy cow I have anxiety about this. Because if I fail, I'll have to quit my job. I can't keep the publications department fresh and vibrant and growing if I don't know how to teach kids how to do the basics.

Harsh.

The Problem

OK. Now I shall reveal what is known as the conflict of this story. I can't do my job. I've been acting like I can, but I don't know the computer programs that I teach.

It's not like I haven't tried to learn them, nor is it like I'm not surrounded by a talented group of kids who know exactly what they are doing. I took a 3-hour graduate level course last summer to learn my programs, but I was the slowest pupil in class and therefore didn't learn a whole lot.

I can manage the kids fine, and we get along swell. But when it comes to training the next generation I don't know what I'm doing. I have a plan though, that the 3 aforementioned kids will create lessons to teach me how to teach others Indesign, Photoshop and the basics of design.

Here comes the story. I shall attempt to learn these programs over the next several months. I will concentrate hard and try to absorb the information presented. Crap. I'm doomed for failure. I will have to divulge that the emperor has no clothes. . .

The Background

A little background might be in order before I actually chronicle the journey. (That's really a pun, sort of, because the name of our paper is "The Cardinal Chronicle")

I leaped into this job during the summer of 2005, while licking my wounds from a failed attempt as a philanthropist. I was excited to get back to where I came from: journalism education. I had never actually taught it before, but I did have 20 years as an English teacher, a sexuality educator and a grants type person, so I wasn't exactly fresh off the boat either.

So, the first six months were great; it was a love fest between the kids and I. They were super talented and made me look good. I was fun loving and made them feel good. I won a "My favorite teacher award" in January, and TV crews were there to cover it. It was great. Then I crashed.

I'm also a depressive, which is part of the journey I will describe. These ups and downs you will read will more likely reflect my moods than the kids actual behavior. They are steady. But my sense of humour may put a spin on it that will be worth reading.

Meet Greg: the seriously talented third-year editor-in-chief. Meet Jared: the equally as talented graphic artist. Meet Pi: the most under-appreciated geek on the planet. We have a great time.

Failed Experiment

I thought I was posting some old photos here, but I failed.

I teach this shit for a living, but can't seem to upload the photos for this "Old Pics" segment. Go figure.

This oughta be a fun ride.

Thresholds

Thresholds is a theory I have that explains some of the choices we make in life, particularly during our teenage years. I plan to write a best selling novel about this concept, so don't steal it if you are reading this, like in "Throw Mamma from the Train."

"Oweeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnn."

Anyway, this theory goes a little like this, in a soundbite: We all have to cross certain thresholds in life, some contain rituals, like a coming out celebration, and some we are formally educated for, like driving a car, and some we just fumble through, like losing our virginity. In all of these cases, however, we cannot go back once we cross the threshold, so we must carefully consider and prepare for these times in our lives.

See the relationship with teen pregnancy here? Once a sex educator, always a sex educator.

Wait for this book on shelves near you soon. Well, as soon as I get off my butt and write the sucker.

Why am I here?

Shit. Why did I start out with that question? Is the answer 42?

I'm new at this blogging crap, so excuse me if I use too many scattelogical references as I get started. And a Douglas Adams or two.

I am a veteran school teacher who has just re-entered the profession after a cushy day job. It is hard to do, this school teaching, and I'm hoping to make this blog a place where I can process this all, and maybe even publish it down the road when I become rich and famous.

Now that I've jinxed myself, I might as well lay it all on the line. I'm modeling this blog after one I admired a few years back: tardblog.com. It is now defunct, but it was full of shocking stories about public education in the special education classroom. My world is a bit less insane; it's a high school journalism classroom in the heartland.

Stay tuned as the editor-in-chiefs who know it all leave, and how the Adviser who knows nothing tries to survive without them.