the minute i knew this class wasn't even relatively reasonable was when i went for one of the editor positions. two sophomores (including me) and a junior and senior went for the last positions as either features editor or opinions editor. we had to write a page about why we thought we should become one of the editors. i wrote a seemingly good page, didn't take long, was right to the point. shivam was the other sophomore, and he had about a paragraph i think. the junior wrote a quick few sentences right before we turned it in, and the senior's was probably somewhat like mine i'm guessing. but guess who they picked? the upperclassmen. without even reading the damn papers their decision was final. awesome right? they told shivam and me that we could be "assistant editors." yeahh assistant editors my butt! i help edit my friends' papers constantly without wearing any form of an editor title, and get no recognition whatsoever while the real editors are delicately soaking all the attention they want. don't get me wrong, there are some really chill editors out there, but with the good ones, you most definitely get the bad. i've even told the editors some minor mistakes i've found in the newspaper before it's printed but nooo, no one listens to the silly, young ASSISTANT EDITOR right!
they don't understand that kids don't read the newspaper as often because they don't realize kids disregard it when they find such careless, shoddy mistakes that could so easily be fixed. no wonder why the newspaper isn't as respected as it should be.
so far, hamilton's had two school newspaper issues. i'm sure they're much, much more important and meaningful to mr. riggs (the teacher) than they'll ever be to any student at this school, yet he tends to forget that in the process. the only thing keeping me going in that class are chosen few students who never seize to brighten my day and make the load a little easier to carry. gianna, megan, angelina, jordan, shivam, ryan, emma, and johanna are pretty much the only people in that class that aren't 1. boring. 2. weird. 3. anti-social. 4. too into the paper. 5. unwilling to make new friends, really. 6. BITCHES.
i'm generally a tolerant person when it comes to things like this, but i don't think i've ever complained more in my entire life than i did in just one quarter so far. and every time i see things getting at least somewhat better, i am sadly mistaken and awakened by rude, selfish, pointless, and STUPIDDD misunderstandings! i could just freakin' shoot myself in the head it's so aggravating.
okay, now that i've given you some background, let me lead you into my glaringly apparent dilemma here.
in the last paw print issue, that was released october 1st, i had signed up for three stories all together for the issue. the band column on fear for my life, the vma's article on the kanye-tswift thing, and a story that was a part of the 'spread.' the spread is the set of stories in the very center of the newspaper where it can run across the page freely. the "theme" for the last paw print was 'teen issues.' there were stories like drug abuse, eating disorders, all of that stuff. and i was interested, so i signed up to write about self-mutilation. knowing and understanding this topic, since it hits so close to home, i knew i'd put everything i could into writing it. turns out TWO DAYS before the damn issue was released, they told me my story wasn't going to be a part of that issue, and that they'd try to fit it into the next one. so, yeah, i was upset, but i didn't let it get me too riled up. when we get back to school, i have, once again, three stories in the issue (don't ask me why, i still actually believe that working my ass off will even make a difference in this class anymore). the band column (which i've yet to write because i've been sooo overwhelmed), another article in the spread story about stereotypes, and the self mutilation article i wrote. by now, i thought i technically had two stories, because the self mutilation thing was already done and set. me. riggs calls me over and tells me i have to make a "few minor corrections" on my paper and i'm thinking, ohhh that'll be a piece of cake, no worries. boy, was i wrong.
my poor, innocent paper is just red all over the place! this is what mr. riggs considers "a few minor corrections." if this is a few, i NEVER want to know what a lot would be. my paper is bleeding like it was just stabbed 245 times ALL OVER. after reading through the corrections he made, i found out with every swipe of his monstrous red pen he was shooting down every waking fragment of voice i had in this piece of writing. he took out my rhetorical questions, and basically made it seemingly impossible for anyone to be interested and feel any attachment to this piece. also, he wrote comments on the side as if he weren't reading my paper in its entirety. a question he asked in one sentence was almost always answered in the next. he told me to mention things that had nothing to do with what the paragraph was about. and, he told me to cite every freakin' time i made a statement. what if it was prior knowledge? am i literally supposed to pull these facts i'm aware of out of mid air? Oh boy, did all of this just kill me dude. i understand that i need to stop being a little whimp when it comes to this, because HEEELLOOO this IS what journalism is all about and i'm gonna have to learn to deal with it. but, when someone just murders things that add vibrancy to the paper, than they need to reanalyze how exactly they're editing. i mean at the rate he was going, he could have written the whole freaking thing by himself. even my ENGLISH teacher, who always tells us to be harsh editors, told me that was a lot.
For now i guess all i can do is bite my tongue, but the next time i'm faced with him just throwing this kind of thing back in my face, i'm just gonna have to do something about it. trust me, when i edited it, i kept the majority of what i wrote. what I THINK that I SHOULD say in this piece. if he doesn't like it, than i'm fine with that. at this point, i don't think i can handle trying to impress him much longer. it's not worth my time, nor my energy.
for all you kids out there hoping to join hamilton's newspaper team in the future: don't. unless you can handle it brutally crushing you're delicate journalistic dreams! haha, okay, okay. that was a little harsh.