Just For TV Teachers

The line above is from the late, great Jack Buck.  He said it in the fall of 1982 when the Cardinals last won the World Series.  Every Cardinal fan alive at the time can tell you where they were when Bruce Sutter struck out Gorman Thomas to end the ‘82 Series. 

On Friday night past, somewhere in the sky above Busch Stadium, at 10:22 CDT, you could almost hear Jack’s voice rumble again, only this time, he would have been repeating another of his memorable play-by-play calls, the one from 1988 when he said, “I don’t believe what I just saw!”  In that case, it was after Kirk Gibson’s pinch-hit homerun that won game one of the series for the Dodgers over the A’s and Tony LaRussa.

I am not sure I believe what I just saw last week as my Cardinals, the team of my youth and my middle age, and now the team of LaRussa, knocked off the heavily-favored Detroit Tigers in five games.  It was amazing, stunning, unexpected, simply unbelievable.  A team that limped into the post-season, got healthy, got confident, and marched to the title in front of the sport’s best fans.  What a ride it was.

The national media types, especially those on the left and right coasts, whined about the TV ratings, or the lack of luster to the Fall Classic this year.  What none of them appreciate is exactly how little those of us in the flyover states care about their snappy asides and pithy criticisms.  The St. Louis Cardinals just won their tenth World Series.  To the “USA Today,” which predicted the Tigers in three–funny, I admit–I say, can you believe what you just saw?

The Tigers’ pitchers were the real MVPs, aiming for the lady in the third row everytime they fielded a bunt.  Albert Pujols, the most feared hitter on either team, only hit .200 with one homer in this series.  If you had told Cards fans ahead of time Prince Albert would have a rough series, driving in only two runs, we would have probably sided with the “USA Today.”  But a funny thing happened on the way to the title.  The entire Cardinal team showed up.  They stayed and played together, executed a great plan of attack, and did not beat themselves.

So now, after waiting 24 years, the Redbirds are back on top.  They’ll put on their rings next April in the new Busch Stadium, which is now batting a thousand with a series title in its first and only year.  Fans will flock to the stadium by the arch, and never again will we doubt our chances in the post-season.  In fact, that’s the lesson for any fan from any major league city.  Once you get to the playoffs, anything can happen. 

I close with one more Jack Buck quote, one we are adhering to here in the heartland for maybe the next six months.

“Go crazy, folks, go crazy.”

Comments Off

Someone named “Jan” from “Token Community Do-Gooders, Inc.” calls and begins using phrases we’ve all heard before.  “Hey, I have something that would make a great little project for your kids.”  Gulp.  Beads of sweat begin forming on your brow and your throat dries up.  Why?  Because you know this “great little project,” whatever it is, will suck the time and energy out of the students who do it, and eventually YOU will end up helping them finish it just so you can make it go away forever.  But then there is the catch:  Jan got your number from one of your assistant principals.  Jan’s project will reflect nicely on your school.  The kids who do it will get their photo in one of the district’s four-color, internal print pieces, and somewhere down the line, someone will say nice things to your principal about the broadcast kids, and all the fine work they do.  Kerrrrchiiiing!  You just scored valuable, cash-em-in-later points with your bosses. 

It’s a scenario many Broadcast Journalism advisers are familiar with, and some have found themselves having a hard time looking in the mirror after they say “yes.”  I say it’s time to relieve yourself of this guilt.  Relax.  You can still teach and demand journalism from your kids.  A PR, feel-good production every now and then is okay.  Your street cred is still in tact, even if you create the cheesiest PSA ever viewed on an empty stomach.

Drawing the “We’re JOURNALISTS!” line, then crossing it, really can make you feel awful.  We have a student-produced broadcast that occasionally hits hard.  In fact, it’s what we’re known for, I think.  BUT we do the “good community” stuff now and then, and still have plenty of passion for journalism, and there are no broken mirrors on the walls of our classroom.

Here’s what I think makes sense.  It’s fine to take on a special effort about the “good cause” this week as long as you are willing to do the story about possible mismanagement, financial impropriety, or questionable practices by that same “good cause” if you learn of those things the next week.  When you let your involvement with a community organization shade your coverage, then you are letting an outside entity influence your internal decisions about what you cover, and how you cover it.  That’s a problem.

But let’s face it.  We wear several hats as J-teachers, and little PR things are often unavoidable.  But there is a great way to make yourself more comfortable with these “special projects.”  Make your first-year kids do them, and think them up ahead of time.  Have a unit each year for the beginning TV students, one that requires them to create PSAs for a chosen cause, or one where they write and shoot short packages about a deserving organization.  Be (warning, an administrative cliche is coming) “proactive” and have the students brainstorm their own “We are the world” community topic.  Then when the phone rings and “Jan” wants something, you explain nicely, respectfully, that your kids already have assignments similar to the one she is suggesting, and they simply do not have time to take on another piece for another outside group or cause.

Of course, the other way to feel really good about the special community projects is to ask for money.  “We do some productions for outside groups, but to justify it, and to allow for the time away from class work, and the wear and tear on our equipment, we’re going to need $1,000 for this one.”  Heck, they are often calling you because the professionals in town cost too much anyway. 

Normally I’d launch into the ethics of selling your production services and time, as opposed to doing nice projects for free, just for “the experience,” but really, this is getting into some very murky water here.  I don’t want an HTV newsteam investigating our (my) sell-out.  That wouldn’t do, would it?  Let’s just say, if the phone rings, and it’s someone named “Jan,” you don’t know me, and you certainly don’t know how to reach me.

Comments Off

Okay, we all know how lazy teenagers can be. They can drive you crazy with their apathy, their procrastination, their whining. Heck, they can drive you crazy with a roll of the eyes, let alone something verbalized, like the predictable, “What-everrrrrr.”

So I want to share with you my incredible (okay, maybe incredulous) joy and rapture over the recent efforts of the staff of “HTV Magazine,” our little cable shindig that airs every three or four weeks. They went not only the extra mile, but they went the extra hours it takes to produce a good show.

I’ve seen so much of my staff the last week or two, I want them to just go away for a while. Some have left permanent imprints in the edit bay chairs. I’ve seen them more than I’ve seen my wife, and certainly more than I’ve seen my Cardinals’ playoff games.

If we measured effort in terms of distance traveled to gather a story, and gave grades based on mileage, which might be something to consider for next year’s syllabus, then this group is making my personal Honor Roll for first quarter. They’ve been to towns named Verona, Fair Play, Branson (twice), and Fayetteville, Arkanas. The first is not related to those two bickering households, aka the Capulets and Montagues, but it is home to a really cool corn maze. You city slickers probably didn’t know corn grows on tall stalks that can be turned into incredible mazes. The crew that journeyed north to Fair Play interviewed a young lady for whom life has been anything but fair. The team that headed south to Branson had way too much fun interviewing members of the Haygood family. Our Arkansas team caught up with a former Hillcrest volleyball star now excelling at the Division I level.

Stories don’t fall into your lap. You have to sniff them out, snoop around, get your “news radar” operating 24/7. Kids have to be taught to listen and look for story ideas. It’s not something that happens overnight. Some kids never grasp this. But when they do start “getting it” and start thinking about their TV show everytime they pick up a newspaper or magazine, or scan the Internet, or listen to the radio, it’s amazing how much better they get at finding great topics. They also start looking at their own lives, and listening to everyday conversations among their friends, always looking for a nugget that just might grow into a compelling story.

So I hope the HTV staff rests easy for a little while. One thing I can promise them–another deadline is looming, and you’re only as good as your next show. Hey, complacency is not an option!

Comments Off

What kind of teacher are you, anyway? Is it the story, or the software, that excites you the most?

I am pondering those questions this week because I began teaching the digital editing process to my first-year Broadcast Journalism kids a few days ago, and it always reminds me of the famous quote, “I am much more comfortable teaching content than I am teaching technology.” Who said it? Me. A number of times through the years.

The technical side of producing our little show is much less interesting to me than those moments when we discuss focus statements, sources, research, scripts, everything BUT the technical side of doing a news story or feature. All that techy junk is a necessary evil. I want a compelling story, please. Now.

On the STN list-serv you can certainly tell who the content and techy folks are. When the debate is about student press rights or finding a unique story angle, this group over here checks in. Then when it turns to the latest video switcher or character generator, the folks with technical knowledge jump in. It truly makes the list an awesome resource.

I can only teach Final Cut Pro tricks for about three days, then I have to move on to something else. Call it “J.T.A.D.D.,” or “Journalism Teacher Attention Deficit Disorder,” often leading to the following remark: “Kids, I think you know enough to edit a basic story, so let’s get on with a new assignment.”

You know who teaches editing techniques really well? The seniors on your advanced staff. Mine know all the tricks because they had to figure them out on their own (possibly because their classroom teacher was too excited about a big interview Sally landed to actually take time to teach those awesome “motion” effects). That’s a run-on sentence composed by a sufferer of J.T.A.D.D., so cut me some slack.

I most identify with the reporters who simply want to go out, get the story, and tell it. I certainly appreciate our young photographers who seek interesting camera angles and shoot great sequences. But when it comes to sitting in the edit bay for a week, tweaking each shot, trying this or that FCP filter, well, it gets boring fast. Bring back deck-to-deck, down-and-dirty, “that’s close enough” editing for me. There are more stories out there, and we can’t spend all our time logging and capturing!

But you certainly have to pay attention to those smarty-pants students who love editing. They have a lot of power, and they know it. In the editing bay the magic really happens. Those young ‘Braniacs’ who pick up the editing techniques almost instantaneously, and conquer brand new facets of the software, will, I am convinced, inherit the world of TV news in the future, and by future, I mean next week.

You can do anything with digital software. It’s scary. It’s probably happening every night and we don’t know it. Is Katie Couric really anchoring the CBS News? Or is it Dan Rather in a perky wig, with some serious Photoshop tricks altering his appearance? Mmm? Do you know for sure Brian Williams sounds like that, or is his ‘alto’ voice digitally altered to a lower octave?

Let’s face it. The young have taken over the technical side of broadcasting. They know more, can adapt and problem-solve much better than some of us uh, more “seasoned” teachers, and in the future, I fully expect third graders to be staffing cable news shows, sitting on high chairs behind the scenes, creating 3D animations that illustrate how the GNP has suddenly dropped, or how Alaska has moved over here, next to Seattle.

Their battle cry? “We distort. You decide.”

Comments Off