FROM 'THERE' TO 'HERE'

IGNORANCE 'IS' TRULY BLISS...

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: THE STATIC.

Joining any organization in addition to Lindsay Thurber’s list of academic requirements for a high school diploma, meant extra credit toward the 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 gathering in the classroom The Static used as its meeting headquarters. It was so crowded there was barely standing room. All 30 desks were filled, and other kids lined the classroom walls two deep. I remember thinking that with this level of competition I’d never get selected as a regular on the paper.

The paper had two teacher advisors. Mr. Carlson, who looked like the human version of Walt Disney’s cartoon Ichabod Crane, but who, 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 an understatement. I remember the look of astonishment on all three of their faces after the noon bell rang and the room kept filling and filling with more and more people, until the head janitor squeezed his way through the doorway to warn meeting hosts the crowd was now a fire evacuation hazard.

Mr. Carlson’s solution: everyone whose last name began with ‘A’ to ‘M’ could stay then everyone from ‘N’ to ‘Z’ could return at the same time the following day. Feeling discouraged [though I had arrived early] I left the desk near the front of the room for someone else. On my way out I questioned if I should even consider returning the next day.

***A valuable life lesson learned from this event: a] the vast majority of people don’t show up; and b] most people lack patience and perseverance -or- my level of stubborn-stupidity…

For some reason I didn’t take the school bus home that first day with my younger siblings. Instead, my dad picked me up after school and 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 before the paper’s meeting only because of the first letter of my surname name in the alphabet. Blah – blah – blah.

As he drove through late afternoon traffic, my dad, bless him listened with all the serenity of a monk who, as the father of four offspring, had developed infinite patience.

When I was done complaining 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 likely with a smaller crowd and you’re in the last group they see.”

…so mulling that over with all the wisdom of my 15 years I decided my dad, who was 43 [then] had a point…as usual.

***Life lesson learned from this event: 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, I showed up as early as I had the day before -and- only eight other people showed up with me. 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 fifty-six to twenty-eight and by the November edition of the paper, of the original newcomers only me 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 the natural attrition that cycles for many beginnings. The editor had expected to lose two thirds of the volunteers because of homework loads or newspaper assignment deadlines or people who didn’t like their assignments or the newspaper was more work than people realized…

[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 earned the occasional ‘B’ now and then just to give my parents false hope. Any additional dedicated studying with any extra homework seemed 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 only what was required.]

I accepted every assignment The Static editor asked of me. I always handed in my interviews or news assignments by deadline then dully took back my articles [each time] and fixed them 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 penmanship was atrocious. My mother suggested I learn to type, so I immediately signed up for a third semester typing class.

THE STATIC 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 how to grow up; and 2. I embraced the freedom of having so many choices that I made too many choices.

Besides the school newspaper, I was elected as a classroom rep to the monthly school council meetings, and I joined the Debate Club, and I joined the Drama Club. I also took too many electives, like Business Fundamentals and Drama classes. And, somewhere in there I managed to pass: Math 10—[with help, thank you Paul Wilson], Chemistry 10, Physics 10, Biology 10, History 10, English 10 and French 10.

However, when I entered grade eleven the minute, I found out I could drop the second language requirement and one science - Physics and French vanished. Mrs. Foster’s husband won his legislative seat, then she resigned her teaching job at Lindsay Thurber and moved to Alberta’s capital, Edmonton.

The original editor and three other student staff members I started out with had graduated the previous June. Only Mr. Carlson as The Static’s advisor and the former paper’s assistant editor [now the newspaper’s replacement editor] remained. There were several specific openings the paper needed to fill. With more nerve than brains, I applied for the Assistant Editor’s position and Mr. Carlson granted it to me.

As fortune would have it, the new editor was rather lazy and more interested in his social standing with free passes to football games and dances than actually writing a monthly editorial or handing out assignments. So, I learned his job and mine.

THE STATIC Editor [saved by a great staff]

My Senior year was Canada’s Centennial. One hundred years is may not considered a long time by European standards or even U.S. standards, but for the surviving decedents of many second sons from British and French gentry, 100 years as a country was a pretty big deal.

Memorials and celebrations popped up across Canada in every province, city and town. So, as the new Editor of The Static I felt obliged to develop something memorable for the county’s special Centennial. What I came up with was a gathering of 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 after Labor Day of our senior year to the following April to pull off that giant idea. However, I wasn’t the one who saw it through. I was just the one who looked good, because - four other dedicated Static members who were creative, organized and worked extra, extra hours made the first ever Conference of Alberta High School Newspapers – happen.

Thank you again Karen Tomasson, wherever you are…

Which brings me to a critically important point. No matter what career path you may choose in the “Arts” you’re never completely alone—supportive people are always around or close by. Acknowledge them and THANK them—regularly…