Journalism Workshops, Elevator Rides & Fill In The Blanks

Bet y’all thought I set my hair on fire and ran away.

Sorry to disappoint everyone, but my hair is not afire–although it probably would look infinitely better that way, and no, I did not run away–although I seriously considered the possibility, but with gas prices the way they are, I probably wouldn’t get any farther than Italy.

…as in Italy, Texas, not Italy the country.

No, I spent the last four days at another journalism workshop because that’s what we teachers do. We spend our free time doing things that aren’t free.

Now, trust me I have a gajillion things (and you know how I feel about things) that I could tell you about the workshops I attended, but for now, let’s just take a look-see at one…

About 20 of us crammed into an elevator which, of course, sported a nifty little sign that said something about a 15 person limit and some sort of poundage limit, too. But when 18 of the 20 are teens, well, quite frankly, they don’t read, and, well, quite frankly, they don’t care because they absolutely know they will live forever.

So with 20 of us riding up, you can only pretend not to hear the elevator conversation because teens, you know, don’t remember how to use those “inside voices” they learned about in elementary school.

So listen in with me…

Elevator girl… “Why don’t you like my _____________________. ”

Elevator boy… “Because…”

Elevator girl… “But you never even really looked at my _________________. There’s nothing wrong with it. Why won’t you just look at it?”

Elevator boy… “Because…”

Now, before you go stark-ravin’ daisy crazy and start substituting all kinds of different things that we’ll have to put into the things-that-will-get-you-fired folder, remember we’re attending a high school journalism workshop.

Fill in the blank with the f-word…

As in F-O-N-T.

That’s right. Font.

As in typography.

As in headline treatments.

Now how great is that to overhear kiddos arguing about fonts?

For now, I think I’ll put those matches away.