Summer Days Journalism Workshops & Mouse Ears

Ahhhhh the lazy days of summer and the hotter than the inner circle of hell Texas temperatures tempted me to just re-post my technorati article updating everyone on my training for the 3-day for the Cure. 

But no siree, Missy, we'll have none of that. I don't want anyone pulling my Texas card. Hails bails, no self-respecting Texan would admit to succumbing to the blazing temps or pawning off laziness on those triple digits. I was born in San Antonio, home of the Alamo. It's going to take a bit more than the sweltering Lone Star sun to stop this blogging.

OK, OK, OK… but it is summer and my DIs (Darling Inspirations) are all nestled in their air conditioned homes or out tanning by the pool or doing whatever it is DIs do when they're not driving me nuts or making me crazy or providing fodder for this blog.

I will be seeing 20 or so of them this summer when I spend that quality time at our annual summer workshop.  You know the one where I get to spend five fun-filled days and four worrisome nights with teenagers. Yeah, that's the one. 

Already the phone calls have been coming in with questions about this and that. Here's my favorite one so far. It's from a new staffer. (You can tell because new staffers always call me "Mrs. Richtsmeier" instead of Richie.)


Yearbook staffer… "Mrs. Richtsmeier, I was wondering if I had to attend the summer workshop."

Me… "Well, yes, why?"

Yearbook staffer… "Well, a friend of mine invited me to go to Disney World and it's during the same time as the workshop, and I was wondering if there was any way I could go."

Me… "Really? Disney World? Hmmmmmm. I don't know. Disney World or the journalism workshop. Disney World or the journalism workshop. Disney World or the journalism workshop. I don't know why you wouldn't want to go to the workshop instead of Disney World. The workshop is so-o-o-o much more fun…"

Yearbook staffer sounding a tad bit puzzled… "Oh…"

Me… "Are you kidding me? Go to Disney World…"
But blast it all, I forgot to tell her to pick me up some mouse ears.

Ain't Life A Beach

(Article first published as Week 7: Training on the Beach, Incidents and Oil Spills on Technorati.)

After school got out, I headed for the beach. Thankfully, we go to South Padre Island. We gave extra thanks because the Texas Gulf Coast (at least for now) remains unscathed by the BP oil spill wreaking havoc along the coastline from Louisiana to Florida.

So while the cities of Gulf Shores and Orange Beach in Alabama have closed public beaches because of the gooey, slimy mess, those of us fortunate to vacation along the Texas coast still can enjoy sun, surf and sand as well as some tasty shrimp.

My week at the beach, however, in no way stopped my training for the Susan G. Komen 3-day for the Cure 60 mile walk. 

In fact, I stepped it up a bit and  walked about 30 miles while at the beach. My family made sure I stayed on track offering to walk with me. Sometimes we walked along the beach. Sometimes we walked along Gulf Boulevard. All of it was walked in the hot Texas sun. Walking on the sand provided some extra workout benefits. We even walked a bit across the border venturing into Nuevo Progreso, Mexico, to do a little shopping. 

Although we've been there numerous times before, we did check with the tourist Welcome Center at South Padre Island before we decided to go because of all the drug violence reported in border towns. The very nice Welcome Center people told us that although there had been some "incidents," we would be fine as long as we as we remained aware of our surroundings.

They never did define "incidents." 

While walking across the bridge and while shopping in Mexico, we couldn't help but notice that we were one of the few Americans shopping there. Now I know why.

The very next day another shopping mecca destination for tourist, Matamoras, was in the news for a running gun battle that began at a police station and left seven police officers dead before it ended when the Mexican military finally took control of the situation.

I wonder if those nice Welcome Center people would have referred to that as an "incident."

And all that makes as much sense as referring to the BP oil spill as an "incident." 

Graduation, Churches & the Summer Sun

(Writer's note: Well school is out and summer is here, and I need a break. So-o-o-o I will be sharing posts made on technorati here from time to time. I still plan to post weekly. So make sure you come by. The following article was first published as "Graduation Venues Heating Up Controversy" on technorati.)

We all survived graduation in the sweltering near 100 degree heat at our football stadium. Until about three years ago, we used to hold it at Potter's House until it became too expensive.

But even if we could have passed around the ol' collection plate and rustled up enough donations to head back over to the very nice, air conditioned Potter's House, apparently the ACLU and a federal judge would have tried to stop that.

Something about separation of church and state. Oh, did I forget to mention Potter's House is one of those megachurches? 

A school district in Connecticut  had a big brouhaha showdown over wanting to hold graduation in a megachurch there. After a U.S. District judged issued a preliminary injunction saying it was unconstitutional for the Enfield School District to hold its commencement ceremonies at The First Cathedral, the school board voted not to appeal the ruling.

Like so many other high schools across the country, megachurches offer great air conditioned spaces that can accommodate everyone from Uncle Bob to Cousin Jake and even the neighbors down the street. Not only can they accommodate huge crowds, they even have enough parking spaces for them, and, as an added bonus, they even have state of the art video feeds to view your graduate up close and personal. What's not to like about that?

The superintendent of Windsor Schools told Fox News that the board voted not to appeal the injunction because "the board felt that if it remained with the Cathedral and faced the ACLU, the cost to the taxpayers would be significant and the board could not justify that cost."

With temperatures expected to soar into the triple digits here, administrators at Southlake Carroll Senior High School opted to move their graduation ceremonies to the new Dallas Cowboy Stadium with its cool 78 degree indoor temperature. Still, all that fuss in Connecticut got me wondering if moving the Southlake Carroll graduation bothered the sensibilities of parents or kiddos who are Philadelphia Eagles fans, or maybe that little move violated some sort of NFL thingy. 

When my daughter graduated a number of years ago at Potter's House, I don't recall even remotely thinking her high school was endorsing any religion. We were too busy doing the dance of joy to pay much attention to the venue.

I wonder if that judge would have changed her mind if she had had to sit on the 50 yard line in near 100 degree heat, in her black robe.

Just wondering.

Top 5 Things to Woo-Hoo About

Woo-hoo! Only one more Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday left of school.

Oh yeah, let's not forget one Saturday thrown in just for teachers to turn in all their stuff. You know, important stuff like grades, projectors, books and, well, stuff.

Jeepers Creepers, I really wasn't sure I was going to make it. I could write pages and pages about that, but not much of it would be funny. Let's just say I spent an inordinate amount of time this year throwing starfish after starfish back into the ocean, and all I got in return were stinky fish hands. (You can read that starfish story here.) I do take some solace in reading blogs by other teachers and discovering that they, too, only ended up with stinky fish hands when their year ended.

Still, since this is a no-whining blog, let's look at 5 things that can be considered Woo-Hoo worthy  this year…

Richie's Top Five WOO-HOO Worthy Things

#5…All my freshmen, sophomores and juniors are exempt from final exams. (Translation: I don't have finals to grade and can get my grades done early.)

#4…The kiddos all loved the yearbook this year, and so far, I have yet to receive a telephone call about how something in the yearbook ruined someone's life. I did have a phone call, though, from a parent who asked if we could deliver their yearbook curbside. You know, I guess like Sonic. I should have told her, "Sorry, no-can-do. I misplaced my rollerskates."

#3…My school district encourages and promotes the use of technology which is one reason why they don't block my blog. But, as with everything involving teens, sometimes you get a little more than you bargain for. It's a good thing my principal has such a great sense of humor. The kiddos showed their PhotoShop expertise on a photograph of Dr. Al and gave him this picture framed…

#2…My BFF who lives in a necklace is returning to the Lone Star state and will be teaching at my school next year. She's the one that gave me the Chicken Chucker. I, of course, gave her finger puppets. I think we're going to have some kind of F-U-N next year.

And finally, the Numero Uno reason to shout WOO-HOO as the year ends…

#1…All of those Things That Will Get You Fired actually ended up in my "Things That Will Get You Fired" folder and not in any publication.

Get Richie on Oprah & Save the Chicken

Tornadoes, Yearbooks & Firestorms

[The tornado photograph was taken by one of the art teachers from her window. My rooms are located next to the art room.]

Thankfully I didn't have to whip out the flying monkeys during yearbook distribution week. I guess the tornado counted as enough excitement.

Yep, we're talking tornado here… as in the Wizard of Oz except minus the ruby red slippers, some singing munchkins and the witch. Oh, wait, I think I've got that witch part covered.

The day before the big Yearbook Distribution extravaganza and right after we had rechecked and resorted all 1,300 yearbooks, one of the assistant principals announced rather calmly to take cover and for teachers to sweep kids who were out in the parking lot and halls to safety.

Since my classroom is located next to the parking lot, I went outside to rustle up the kids who were still walking to class since there were about two minutes left in the passing period.

Yep, I waltz right out into the parking lot, and there it was. Jeez Louise, Mr. Tornado was right there. For a brief moment, I stood paralyzed. Not from the fear of Mr. Tornado. No siree, Missy.

Paralyzed because all I could think about were those 1,300 yearbooks in my room, all neatly sorted by fifth period classes and ready for distribution.

The thought of all those yearbooks being sucked into oblivion, having to reprint them all and re-sort them all was scarier than actually seeing the darn twister. 

It took me about a brief second to realize there was nothing to do, but rustle up the kiddos and sprint back into the building for cover.

I did stop by my room, though, and, for a brief moment, considered waiting out the storm with the yearbooks in the publications room instead of moving into the interior designated room of my hall monitoring buddy.

Instead, some common sense prevailed and I grabbed my keys and went to the designated shelter room.

I figured if the tornado hit but left my trusty blue mini-van, I would hop in and take off. Take off as in hit the road jack and don't come back no more, no more, no more.

Thankfully, the tornado moved on missing the high school and spending most of its energy above the ground. 

My little tornado incident paled in comparison to the stuff going on elsewhere. I'm pretty sure the folks over at Massaponax High School in Virginia would much rather have come face-to-face with Mr. Tornado than be involved in the yearbook storm over there.

According to news reports, the kiddos printed "confessions" and scattered quotes with sexual innuendoes throughout their yearbook. Jeepers creepers. We're talking about stuff like…

• "I have sex with people just to feel wanted."
• "I worry all the time my ex-boyfriend will use the naked picture I sent him to ruin my life."
• "I had an abortion and my mom doesn't know."
• "I once did so much pot that I woke up high."
• "I'm pregnant with my best friend's boyfriend's kid."

Stuff like that just makes me wonder what part of that equation ever sounded like a good idea? Secrets, teens, sex, abortions, drugs… does anything good EVER come out of that mix? 

Yep, Mr. Tornado and even the flying monkeys look  pretty good compared to that.

I do want a pair of ruby red slippers, though. You know, just in case.


[A newsier version of this post was  first published as Yearbook Content Creates Controversy on Technorati.]

Not It! Not It! Not It!

Yes, my dears, it's that time of year again when 18-wheelers  are dropping off yearbooks at schools across the land. My 1,300 or so books are supposed to be delivered at 8 a.m., giving us a week to get them sorted and ready for distribution day on Friday.

And, yes, I know you think I should be excited about it all, but, no siree, Missy, I'm not. Instead, I think I would much rather just set my hair on fire and run screaming from the building.

Remember, we call this YBP time--as in YearBookPanic time. (I've written about it before here and here.) The time when newscasters across the universe highlight  yearbook disasters and mishaps with live news reports at 5 o’clock, 6 o’clock and 10 o’clock. And, of course, just in case you missed it, stories get posted at nano-speed across the Internet.

Once again I spent most of my weekend trying not to hyperventilate or yell, "Not it! Not it! Not it!" as Monday closes in.

In previous years, there have been reports of altered photos, embedded profanities and clothing issues. Other than the controversy over including a gay student's photo in the yearbook at a Mississippi school, things so far have been remarkably quiet this year on the YBP front.

But it's still a tad bit early. I'm hoping it stays that way, but just in case, let me once more shout: "Not It! Not It! Not It!"