As the adviser of our university paper, the look and the content—and attitude—of the publication fall on my lap.
It is an exciting assignment, something I took on with no question asked. But with this job come coaching and mentoring, tasks that require gargantuan patience. Also, I need to remember how it is done by going years back; I need to pluck from my college memoir of campus journalism what can be taught to hard-core millennials today.
Aside from their writing talents, my chosen editors (who had to pass a rigorous test), have zero knowledge of newspaper writing.
Words like headline, subhead, ears, nose for news, news angle, column inches, page jump, tombstone, etc. are as foreign to them as a typewriter.
What to do?
I guess that's why there is a love month. It's when you painstakingly teach the ABC's of a job you used to love in college so they, too, will love it.
As one of only a dozen, chosen from among thousands to write for our prestigious campus newspaper, and one who will always look to those wonder semesters as part of her life's peak moments, I received grace in many unmeasured column inches. I was smitten by campus journalism.
Journalism would also become the venue for meeting my future husband (maybe I should blog about that, too, one day soon).
Memories of a job so loved then, should be shared—and passed on.
So, I now move from a header of hope . . .
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