Quill & Scroll Magazine
Ray Westbrook
First Vice President
Columbia Scholastic Press Advisers Association
Circumstances of private school media
Extended version of the column originally published in the February/March issue.
One October afternoon, it came: the packet.
If you’re a veteran journalism adviser or student, you’ll know what “the packet” refers to. The packet from your state or national journalism organization, CSPA, Quill and Scroll, JEA or NSPA. The packet with your media ratings or critique.
Validation of a job well done, things to work on, perhaps some very nice kudos. Constructive pointers that will make your teaching and advising stronger. Make your yearbook or newspaper better. Starting points for discussions with your staff on things to do better, differently, things to think about. You hope.
That particular October afternoon, it did arrive. When I got back to my office, I sorted through the rest of the day’s mail, reserving “the packet” for last so I’d have time to go over it unhurriedly. I choose to view the critique or rating before sharing with my editor or staff members, so I have time to process what was presented, and, in some cases, prepare for the students’ reactions.
This afternoon, after a quick glance, I truly wondered if I had received the wrong mailing. But, no, the cover clearly stated Marksmen. That was us. And, we were only nine points saved from earning the lowest rating by this organization.
Slowly, I summoned up the courage to go forward and read the comments. Obviously, we had inadvertently violated––severely––basic journalism principles. But, so many to cause our score to drop so precipitiously? I really couldn’t believe that my staffers (who had produced Gold Crown and Pacemaker yearbooks in previous years) could be so far off base. Could we have missed the mark so much?
It took me a good half hour to go through the multi-paged booklet. And, to be fair, this critique judge was thorough. She or he had certainly gone through the book in exhaustive fashion. But, what alarmed me so very much was that she or he had completely ignored the special considerations that I had taken painstaking care to inform the organization about. Those special considerations necessitated by our being a private school. Not a public school. These were things we had to do because it was part of our school’s heritage. Things that were a part of who we are.
And, because this particular judge was so “turned off” by our senior pages - one page was given to each senior in the class section, a 49-year tradition - and we actually (gasp) dedicated the yearbook to someone - another 49-year tradition that I’ll explain later - he or she really just gave no credit whatsoever to the good things the book had going for it: a contemporary, unexpected theme for an anniversary year, a cover that very nicely spoke to the theme, solid copy (researched, edited, and re-written many times, under the tutelage of a nationally-known writing expert) and clean, contemporary layouts which reflected the editor’s goal of emphasizing full-page photographs and striking white space. Severe criticism dotted the whole critique, colored, I imagine, by these two areas’ inclusion.
It was disheartening for me, and, I was sure, at best, it would be confusing to my students.
* * * * *
I was delighted when Mary Kay Downes, president of the Columbia Scholastic Press Advisers Association, invited me to join that group’s board this fall as first vice president. I have a long involvement in scholastic press associations, as an adviser oh-so-many years ago in my “first career” (in a public school) and for nearly two decades as a publishing company sales representative.
Now, in my second teaching career at St. Mark’s School of Texas, a private all-boys school in Dallas, I’m enjoying this next phase of teaching and advising, perhaps with the added bonus of (too many) years of seasoning. It’s been a great pleasure to return to the classroom, and we’ve enjoyed participating in CSPA, NSPA, and the Interscholastic League Press Conference in Austin activities for the past seven years.
It was an easy decision to accept Mary Kay’s invitation to join the board and, at the first meeting, it dawned on me that among all these accomplished advisers with whom I served, I was the only one currently advising in a private school. And, as the discussion turned to this article, it was clear to Mary Kay that perhaps I could address some of the particular concerns that I had found when private schools’ publications were being critiqued and rated from scholastic press organizations.
The past seven years have given me keen insight into the particular situations that private school publications must be produced within, so it was easy for me to agree to take this assignment.
Here are some things I’ve encountered as a private school adviser that must be factored into our publications:
- MARKETING, IMAGE TOOLS. Private schools’ yearbooks and newspapers are frequently used as marketing tools by the school. In our case, the offices of Development, Admission, and Alumni Affairs all display both the newspaper and yearbook. Alumni officials take copies of both as they meet with alums around the country. The Admission Office frequently includes the newspaper in information packets to prospective families.
- HONORING TRADITIONS. Many private schools’ publications must address long-standing traditions, such as coverage and content, dedication, baby pictures, among others that must be addressed in the yearbook or newspaper.
- FINANCIAL DIFFERENCES. Many private schools’ publications are not sold; they are included in tuition or enrollment fees. That is our situation. We do not have to target the teen consumer to attract his dollar. That allows us much greater freedom in design, content, and coverage.
- VISIBILITY IN THE COMMUNITY. The visibility within the school community can be much greater in some private schools. In our school, parents are very active and a viable presence on campus. They pick up our newspaper and take it home and actually read it, not just glance at it. I frequently am stopped on campus by a parent commenting on something he or she has read. That surprised me at first, and it certainly makes my staff members and me much more cognizant of the scope of our newspaper’s consumption.
- ON-LINE PRESENCE. We have a heavy on-line presence. Our alums expect to see our newspaper online, within a day or two of the print date. Additionally, our parents are now learning to view the newspaper online if they don’t get a printed copy on campus. This increased visibility, or consumption, means that our readership is not limited to teenagers. Parents, grandparents, and alums from all over the world actively read our products regularly, which broadens considerably the areas we consider for story possibilities.
- TWELVE GRADES. Many public school publications are geared to the three or four grades of the high school itself. We have grades one through 12 at our school. We must be more sensitive to story content, knowing six year olds have easy access to the newspaper. Similarly, we must cover the activities of lower and middle school students in both the newspaper and yearbook.
I’ve intentionally not brought up the element of censorship. Admittedly, we have a terrific situation at St. Mark’s, with a supportive administration, which gives us great leeway in the issues we cover, the topics we research for in-depth articles, and the amount of editorial leadership and control that students can exert. However, many private schools are not this fortunate. I hear stories all the time of strict censorship, prior review, outright denying students to bring certain topics for discussion, much less for print.
I’m sure that if you talked to other private school advisers, you’d find many more considerations. But, I think you get my drift. It’s a given that, like it or not, private schools are different. And, hopefully, scholastic press organizations will find ways to recognize those differences and still reward those publications that do outstanding jobs and exhibit sound journalistic principles. Let’s work together to find common ground so that those publications can be evaluated on the basis of excellence in journalism, not constrictive guidelines ripe with “musts” as being the “only way” to produce a student yearbook or newspaper.
* * * * *
And so, on that October afternoon, I did read the judge’s comments. To my disappointment, not one aspect of our special considerations was respected.
Trust me, I know that, in most circles, the tradition of dedicating a yearbook went out in the ‘70s. And, I can recite perfectly the “suggested percentages” for section coverage. The 25 percent of our 352-page yearbook that goes to our seniors is way lopsided. It’s also been a tradition here for 49 years. Passed from generation to generation.
I bet that judge didn’t know the tradition here of dedicating the yearbook is the culmination of a six- or seven-month process –– again 49 years in the making. Our senior prom is actually the Marksmen Ball, the time at which the yearbook is revealed to the Senior Class, providing them one final “senior perk,” receiving their yearbooks before the rest of the school. And, revealing at this black-tie event the recipient of the yearbook’s dedication. It’s always arranged for the person to be at the Ball, to hear his or her name called, and to revel in this singular honor. This is a big deal at our school — one that evokes much speculation before the event. In fact, on at least two occasions a dedicatee’s family has actually included this honor in the person’s obituary!
So, as a private school adviser, what do I really want?
Exemption from journalistic standards? Special treatment?
No, not in the least.
All I would hope, and I would imagine most private school advisers would too, is we receive an honest evaluation of the publication, along with the realization that sometimes we do have special circumstances which affect or dictate content, coverage, or lack thereof.
Just like a public school, we must first and foremost produce a publication that serves our community.
And, on that October afternoon, after reading the critique, I decided not to share its contents with my staff. I labored over that decision quite a long time. I did, however, discuss it with my editor in confidence the next day.
My feelings of “should I or shouldn’t I?” speak to the staff about it were affirmed by my young editor’s comments. After scanning the summary page and taking a quick look at point totals and comments, he said, after a few moments of reflection: “Why share something with the staff that would only destroy them?”
I couldn’t have said it any better.
