On Writing a First Draft of a News Story

Dear Reynolds Institute:

It's a quarter to eight p.m. I have consumed several pints of coffee today, half of which were drunk while staring blankly at my computer. I have transcribed notes. I have written, deleted, rewritten, deleted, then grumbled sourly when I realized I liked what I wrote the first time (which is now deleted). I have not just talked to myself, but yelled outright. I have Googled, Facebooked, Twittered (Tweeted? Twitted? whatever) and browsed for additional information.

This show's producers get paid what?

I have taken several "breaks" from writing in order to do my laundry in the bathroom sink; watch a TV show whose focus seems to be, if I'm not mistaken, people who can't throw stuff away and have other people come into their house to throw stuff away and then live happily ever after; and, for the first time in my life, cleaned my hotel room. 

In short, I'm behaving like my students do when I make them write. And therein lies the real lesson.

Writing, especially writing based on your own interviews and research, is incredibly difficult when you really want to do it well. Whatever their own skill level, my students have always known this all too well. I always like to tell them on the first day, "If you find yourself hating your story so much you want to rip it to shreds, congratulations. That's called character." I'm glad to see I've got a smidge of it myself.

I took some notes during the draft process that I plan to show them when I get back. It's all well and good for someone to lecture about the importance of revision, composition, deletion, reflection (rinse, spin, repeat as necessary), but if there's some kind of product to serve as a visual aid, that'd be a lot more persuasive. Here's a snipped of the notes I took:

4:35 p.m. Maybe move second paragraph down? Way it is now, it looks like a second lead.
4:42 p.m. Check w Doig next week for better quote re par 6
4:48 p.m. I hate you, third quote transition. I hate you with a passion. If hatred were stars, I'd be an elliptical galaxy.
5:02 p.m. chk stats re RaR survey 2005 conv w/ expl. soc media ==> convergence? or maybe just a guess? 

Honestly, I have no idea what that 5:02 p.m. note means. And I think that's probably a lesson too.

When I turn this story in, I'll get an earful of commentary. I'll listen as a teacher. I'll strive to take what nuggets I can from those with the experience and know-how in the reporting business, and at some point, figure out a way to synthesize the overall experience into my own lessons, so as to bring my classroom more towards the dynamic it needs to be. And maybe I'll figure out how to read my own notes along the way.

Gregg Long
Lake Park High School
Roselle, IL

Forming opinions

Opinion writing is probably what I get the most keyed up teaching. In Wednesday's session, Arizona Daily Star editorial writer Sarah Gassen made it quite clear that thoughtful argument drives quality editorials and columns, and she stressed that challenging one's world view, and doing enough journalism to back up one's opinions, are essential when it comes to being credible.

For the majority of our students, that's a lesson in itself. Many of us have noted that our kids don't regularly keep up with the news, and tend to shoot from the hip when assembling their own opinions on a given amount of topics. I myself have had to argue, many times, that one doesn't need to be "political" to follow politics, and that, especially in an election year, it's sort of a journalist's job to have passing familiarity with the issues being debated (we won't even get into civic responsibility). When I give opposing editorials to my class on, say, health care reform or the wars in Afghanistan, Iraq and Libya, discussion and debate tends to fizzle, since, while they might be familiar with the basics of these conflicts, they seem to accept them as the status quo: not likely to change soon, so what's the point of debating it? So here's the conondrum, as I see it: we want our students writing thoughtful, persuasive and engaging editorials, but before we can do that, we want them thinking and engaging with the world around them.

One thing I've done in the past has had weekly editorial board meetings. I stole the idea from that scene in All The President's Men, where they go around the table, arguing about which section gets to put what on the front page. The students, in small groups (I usually give these groups sections, like "World," "Local," etc.) brainstorm whatever they can, using newspapers, the Internet and their collective knowledge, concerning the events of the week, list these events, rank them, and present a case for the Page One story. Other groups weigh in, and somewhere in there, I sneak in a quick lesson on the elements of newsworthiness. From there, it's a long, hard slog towards taking a stance on these issues, but the students quickly see the difference between editorial topics they would want to read and ones that aren't worth their time.

Once this habit of "choosing" issues to cover becomes more ingrained, I start to see a pattern in their thinking that helps me direct them towards editorial topics that engage the audience and establish an effective ethos. That's when I tend to enact Ms. Gassen's approach: give them whatever material I can find challenging their positions, or other positions I suspect them to have. That's when class gets particularly vocal, but also engaging and instructive. I think the key term here is "habit": get them habitually tuned in, and ignore articulation of views for a while, while giving them time to process. Our sessions on Twitter and social media gave me some food for thought as to how to help ingrain this habit more efficiently.

Gregg Long
Lake Park High School, Roselle, IL