The job of a college media adviser is sticky. Without any control over content or editorial decisions, a media adviser walks a fine line, trying to guide students to practice solid journalism without “taking over” or dominating decisions.
I bite my nails on a regular basis, I hold my tongue as much as I can, and I try to keep my facial expressions at bay while pointing out the pros and cons of the decisions and proposals my students make. In the end, though, I trust them to go with their instincts and gut feelings. It is after all, their paper, not mine.
The other morning I was jolted out of bed by the sound of my daughter singing in her room. The sound of her voice was not disconcerting at all – in fact, it was beautiful. It was the lyrics that jolted me after hearing an 11-year old sing about getting “crunk and drunk.”
I pulled myself out of bed after I heard: “Before I leave, I’ll brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack.” A few seconds later … “Erbody getting crunk (crunk), Boys try to touch my junk (junk), Gonna sock ‘em if he gettin too drunk (drunk).” Thank you, Ke$ha.
High school was a turbulent time for me. Freshman year, I transferred to a high school where I knew only one person in a sea of 2,000 students. I had to leave my grade school friends and struggle to find my way, and more importantly, myself.
As most high schoolers find, it is a time where you have no idea how to act, how to fit in and how to invent yourself. I wasn’t sure where I belonged – I wasn’t an athlete, I wasn’t in a clique, I wasn’t an honor student, I wasn’t a stoner and I wasn’t a cheerleader. I was just an ordinary student wandering around the halls, lost, until I entered the choir room. Read more »
I’ve always heard about and truly do believe in a mother’s intuition. My mother could always tell when something was wrong based on my tone of voice or my facial expressions, no matter how hard I tried to mask the pain or anguish I was feeling. She just knew something wasn’t right.
She wasn’t a magician or a superhero – she was a mother. Read more »
We all have told a white lie, a fib or even exaggerated events or stories at some points in our lives. We fluff up the drama of a story, we embellish our job descriptions and paint a picture perfect image of ourselves.
We call ourselves optical illuminator enhancers instead of window cleaners, underwater ceramics technicians instead of dishwashers, refuse and recyclable material collectors instead of garbage men and freelance writers instead of out-of-work journalists.
It’s natural. We all exaggerate in order to prime our egos and feel bigger than who we really are – more accomplished and more successful. Read more »