Story by Story: Healing, Teaching and the Power of Student Journalism

I was on my high school newspaper staff and was news editor as a senior. I wrote a biweekly column for my college newspaper. I began advising the school newspaper in my third year at South Plantation and advised until I left to go to MSD. I also taught creative writing and advised the literary magazine for a few years at South Plantation. I was hired at MSD to advise the yearbook and, in small parentheses, teach English. 

I love the whole process: brainstorming story ideas, helping the students with interview questions, working through rough drafts, editing photos, designing pages/spreads, revising captions and then finally seeing the finished product in print. I’ve been very fortunate to be able to incorporate one of my true passions into my daily work as an educator. The students have been wonderful, bright, articulate, driven and dedicated. They make me laugh and ignore when I get so stressed at deadlines that I might cry (but, only a little). They’ve inspired me to continue doing this work, even when I felt I had nothing left to give. 

This year brought me back to advising the newspaper after 12 years of only advising the yearbook. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until now. The fast-paced immediacy of a newspaper newsroom is unmatched. The students on both publication staffs are always willing to go above and beyond to make sure the stories they write, the pictures they take, and the spreads and graphics they design are of the highest quality, giving the student body and community the type of journalism they’ve come to expect. I set very high standards for my students, and they meet and exceed them every time. 

 I think we can all agree that the best part about being a teacher is seeing your students grow and blossom into the adults they’re meant to be. I’ve had countless students over the past 24 years go on to wonderfully fulfilling careers in journalism. It makes my heart swell with pride knowing that I played even a small role in their lives. I still keep in touch with a large majority of my journalism kids, and I love seeing how they’re making the world a better (and more well-informed) place. 

One of the hardest parts about being a publication adviser is having to cover difficult topics. On Feb. 14, 2018, my school was thrust into the headlines when a shooter took the lives of 17, injured 17 and traumatized an entire community. I began speaking out immediately, within 15 hours of the shooting. I didn’t want there to be any spin on what happened, and I knew it was our story to tell. That’s what I said to my yearbook staff when we met up a few days later: No one had the right to share our experiences or tell our stories. Working to begin finishing the 2018 yearbook only two weeks after the shooting at MSD was like a fever dream. The students and I worked 12+ hours a day for six weeks to make sure it was everything it was supposed to be. We needed to overhaul the entire book’s content to accommodate  spreads about the tragedy. We added profiles about the victims and coverage about what our lives were like at that moment. It was a labor of love, but it took a toll on me. My husband has commented every year since 2018 when the new book is released that he doesn’t know how I (and the staff) finished that book. I don’t know either. I just did. We just did. 

Something that often gets lost in the shuffle is our mental health. As educators, we deal with other people’s children all day, every day. While most days may be great, there are often days that aren’t. We soak everything up like a sponge and need to be rung out. There’s so much emphasis on social and emotional learning and things focused on the students. That’s how it should be. However, one positive thing that came out of the tragedy at my school was the additional spotlight on the mental health of all school-based employees. As a therapy patient since the age of 5, I’ve always made a point to prioritize my mental health. I implore all educators to do the same. You can’t pour from an empty cup—and too often, so many of us are running on empty. 

Looking back on this (almost) quarter century of teaching—yikes!—it makes me think of the lives I’ve touched, and those who have touched mine. I was inspired to become an English teacher by my seventh-grade English teacher, Mrs. Terlecky. I was inspired to pursue journalism by my high school newspaper adviser, Mrs. Falick. I look up to my professional journalism mentors like Mike Taylor, Jim Jordan, Edmund Sullivan, Veronika Levine, and so many others who have supported me on my journey. I attribute the journalism awards I’ve won, both personally and professionally, to not only my mentors, but also my students. 

I know I’ve mentioned Parkland Speaks in other Share My Lesson blog posts. This book, like the 2018 yearbook, was a labor of love. I was able to use work from so many of the students I had in 2018. These were the real stories, experiences, poems, photos, artwork, speeches, etc., from traumatized teenagers. I’m proud of every yearbook and newspaper issue I’ve advised, but there’s something about Parkland Speaks that just hits differently. 

I don’t know how much longer I’ll teach—certainly not another 24 years. But, however much time I have left in the classroom, I want it to be spent doing what I love in a school I love with students I love. Advising a publication allows any adviser to form special bonds with their students. These aren’t regular classes; you spend hours together working on a product, travel to workshops, attend summer training, and see each other at your best and worst. No matter how frustrated I get, no matter how many times I threaten to quit or stop advising, my students and I know I’ll never do it. This is my calling, and I’m here for it.