From 'There' To 'Here'
A journalist Turned Storyteller - Part 2 The Static
ALBERTA, Canada
SHALLOW END… The Static
Lindsay Thurber High School 1964-65…Green [Not Ace] Reporter
Don’t even ask me how this decision happened or when, but soon after passing my grade 9, Alberta Provincial Departmental Exams – and realizing I was actually going to attend high school – I set my sights on joining the school’s student newspaper team on: The Static.
Joining an organization, in addition to Lindsay Thurber’s list of academic requirements for a high school diploma, meant extra credit toward my diploma. So, for me the Drama Club, the Debate Club and the newspaper were significantly more appealing than math, physics, or chemistry – though I had to sign up for those too.
I still remember the first day of that fall and gathering in the classroom The Static used as its meeting headquarters. It was so crowded there was barely standing room only. All 30 desks were filled and other kids like me, lined the classroom walls two deep. I remember worrying that with this level of competition I’d never get selected as a regular reporter on the paper.
The paper had two faculty advisors. Mr. Carlson, who looked like the human version of Walt Disney’s cartoon Ichabod Crane - but nevertheless, was a high energy supportive teacher and always, made himself available. The second advisor was the recently married Mrs. Foster, whose husband had political ambitions and was somewhat distracted by her own importance. She was Mr. Carlson’s exact opposite on every level. Enough said there…
To say the student editor and both teacher advisors were overwhelmed by the interest shown to join the monthly publication - was the very definition of understatement. I remember the look of astonishment on all three of their faces after the noon bell rang. The room kept filling and filling with more and more people until the head janitor squeezed his way through the doorway to warn them the meeting was now a fire evacuation hazard.
Their solution: everyone whose last name was ‘A’ to ‘M’ could stay. Everyone from ‘N’ to ‘Z’ could return at the same time the following day. Then I was even more discouraged. I got up from the desk near the front of the room [because I made sure I arrived early] for someone else then mentally questioned whether I should even consider returning the next day.
***Life lesson: I discovered a.] the vast majority of people do not show up and b.] most people lack patience and perseverance or anything matching my level of stubborn-stupidity…
For some reason I didn’t take the school bus home with my younger siblings that first day. Instead, my dad picked me up after school. Inside the car it didn’t take me long [I was 15 remember] to shed a few tears over the colossal odds I faced and how unjust it had been to be forced to give up my seat at the paper’s meeting because of where the first letter of my last name came in the alphabet. Blah – blah – blah.
As he drove through late afternoon traffic, my dad, bless him listened with the practiced serenity of a monk and the self-taught tolerance of a father of four offspring. When I was done droning on and feeling sorry for myself, my calm, logical dad offered his perspective. “If, you don’t go back tomorrow then you’re not on the paper for sure. If you do return, then you’re with a smaller crowd and you’re also in the last group they see.” Mulling that over with all the wisdom of my 15 years I decided my dad, who was 43 at the time had a point.
***Life lesson: I learned a.] at the bottom is truly a place of personal power because b.] you have nothing to lose and c.] you only have two decisions - either move toward your goal or not then stay on the bottom…
Amazingly, the following noon hour when I showed up as early as I had the day before, only eight other people had returned as I had. Then - I found out that as the original meeting had progressed the day before, several people left early. So essentially in a very short time my competition went from sixty-six to eighteen and by the November edition of the paper, [one full school semester] of the original newcomers - only I and seven other students remained.
I’d like to be able to say it was due to my astonishing writing skills, but it was due to a natural attrition which cycles for many new beginnings. The editor had expected to lose two thirds of the volunteers because of homework loads or missed newspaper assignment deadlines or people didn’t like their assignments or the newspaper was more work than people realized, etc…
My newspaper assignments were never a problem for me because the high school academic homework load was never my priority. In junior high I had established myself as a solid ‘C’ student who got the occasional ‘B’ now and then just to give my parents false hope. So additional dedicated studying with any extra homework seemed as more of a flexible component to my high school education. In other words, if a teacher taught history or English I paid close attention, if they taught anything else I did what was required to pass.
I accepted every assignment The Static Editor asked of me. I always handed in my news assignments on time then dully took back my articles [each time] and fixed it as per the instructions of one - or both of the teacher advisors. [Just before Christmas that first year, Mrs. Foster, whose husband was running for a seat in the Alberta Legislature, handed back another one of my articles covered in red ink and told me bluntly that I would never be much of a writer.]
Mr. Carlson on the other hand told me he liked my fluid-conversation-style, but that my spelling, punctuation and penmanship were atrocious. My dad suggested I spend regular time with a dictionary and my mother suggested I learn to type. We had a dictionary [eight inches thick] that I began to spend more time with, and I immediately registered for a typing class scheduled in the third semester.
1965-66…Assistant Editor
That first year of high school was mostly a blur. It was a blur for many of the obvious reasons: 1. it was the first year of high school and that in itself is a significant step toward growing up [sometimes] and 2. I embraced the freedom of having so many choices that I made too many choices.
Besides the newspaper, I ran for and was elected as a Classroom Representative to each monthly school council meeting, and I joined the Debate Club, and I joined the Drama Club. I also took too many electives, like Business Fundamentals and theatre classes. And, somewhere in there I managed to pass: Math 10, Chemistry 10, Physics 10, Biology 10, History 10, English 10 and French 10.
However, when I registered for grade eleven the minute, I found out I could drop the second language requirement and one science then Physics 20 and French 20 were gone.
Mrs. Foster’s husband won his legislative seat, and she resigned her teaching job at Lindsay Thurber then moved to Alberta’s capital, Edmonton.
The Static’s student ‘staff’ changed too. The original editor and three other student members I worked with in my junior year had graduated the previous June. With only Mr. Carlson as The Static’s sole advisor and the former paper’s assistant editor now the newspaper’s replacement editor, there were specific openings the paper needed to fill. I applied for the Assistant Editor’s position and Mr. Carlson granted it to me.
As fortune would have it the new editor was lazy and more interested in his image. As the paper’s editor he had a certain social standing with free passes to football games and dances. Because he wasn’t too interested in actually writing a monthly editorial or handing out assignments – I learned his job and mine.
1966-67…Editor [saved by a great staff]
The year 1967 was Canada’s Centennial – not a long time by European standards or even United States standards, but for the surviving decedents of many of the second sons from British and French Gentry, 100 years as a settled country was a pretty big deal.
Memorials and celebrations were across Canada in every province, city and town. Naturally, as the new Editor of The Static I felt obliged to develop something memorable for our special Centennial. What I came up with was a gathering of student editors, assistant editors and photographers from literally every other high school newspaper all over Alberta…
And I will tell you here that it took every single day from the first week of September 1966 to April 1967 to pull off that giant idea. However, I wasn’t the one who saw it through. I was just the one with the idea who looked good. Four other dedicated staff members led by a creative, organized person who worked extra hours made the first ever Conference of Alberta High School Newspapers – happen!
***Thank you again Karen Tomasson, wherever you are…
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