Ours is a job not understood by many. We are not the "traditional" classroom teachers who lecture and give quizzes. Our students wander in and out of the room, grab cameras for unexpected events, stay after school past dinner time and create their own assignments. We simply guide them, keep tabs on their progress and look over the pre-press product for obvious mistakes and potentially libelous material. So when I was asked if I had "assigned" a story to Jason Pearce, my editor-in-chief (who had just been suspended for five days for photographing the senior pranksters who decided to jump into the swimming pool fully-clothed between classes) I had to answer truthfully -- "no." It didn't matter that I tried to explain that I never made the assignments, since that was the job of the editor-in-chief. It was enough for the administration to assume that the student was acting without teacher direction, thus they felt they had justification for punishing him. Unfortunately, they were punishing him for doing what I taught him to do: cover a breaking news event. This is one of the tricky situations in which some administrators don't seem to know exactly how a publications program works. The end product is fairly self-explanatory; how it gets to that point can sometimes be unclear to them. That is why when something goes in the newspaper or yearbook that they don't like, they immediately want to speak to you -- not the student who wrote it. It seems the trust/responsibility/accountability aspect throws them. You trust your staff to act as journalists in a responsible, professional manner -- and thus, to be accountable for their work. Many administrators see it as "your" paper, even though it isn't. You didn't write any of the articles (hopefully), you didn't make the story assignments. Your job, if you are doing it correctly, is to teach the students responsible journalism and then step back and let them practice this hands-on, real-life skill. This doesn't mean you let the students run wild; this is still an educational environment. Your role is just not one of dictator; you are there to answer questions, offer advice and oversee the class, albeit in a different style than most teachers. Nonetheless, this concept can be confusing to those who are accustomed to a traditional classroom setting. So, when the students who participated in the prank were rounded up for punishment and Jason was lumped in with those who had jumped in, I became concerned. Jason had been following his natural journalistic instincts, which took him to the pool area to photograph a newsworthy event ... and he was being punished for acting as a journalist. In his eyes -- and in mine -- he was doing the right thing by covering the event. However, doing the right thing does not always come without a price. In this case, the price was a three-day suspension (reduced from five days) for Jason. For me, it was an uncomfortable meeting with my principal and my own re-evaluation of my role as adviser. I had to ask myself if I wanted to work in a school corporation in which it seemed my role was misunderstood. After all, the principal had suspended a student for doing what I had taught him to do. The answer was: I did. Why? Because I felt that despite the fact that the principal and I seemed to disagree on the day-to-day workings of a journalism program, the administration has always been (and continues to be) very supportive of that program. Even though I did not agree with the principal's decision, he has never requested prior review, he has given recognition to my students when they have won awards and he has provided me with equipment to produce the publications. In other words, it could be a whole lot worse. Following this event, the only thing the principal asked of me was to put in writing that staff members are never to be in unauthorized areas without permission. Considering the reactions of other principals in similar situations, I think that was a fair, reasonable request. Keeping the journalism program alive and well, and being able to introduce more students to publications in my school was more important than quibbling over a student being in an "unauthorized area," which supposedly was the reason that Jason was suspended. Sometimes, you have to lose the battle in order to win the war. About the authors: Michelle Burress is finishing her fifth year of advising the Quaker Shaker at Plainfield High School. Sarah St. John, left, is a senior editor and coordinated much of the coverage following the "senior prank" incident. St. John admits to having been shaken by the incident. See her story by clicking here. Return to Top of Page