We were still dragging about 6-8 pages from our last deadline – and they were far overdue. One student, in particular, was testing my patience on a relatively simple Q&A box. He interviewed the wrong grade, took the wrong photos and was generally finding a way to make everything take too long.
Finally, one of my second year students stepped up and ran with the ball. She volunteered to “help” this student finish his page. In the end she took it over and finished it in one class period. She knew what needed to be done and did it. No questions asked. This page has been dragging too long. It is magic when they do that. Step in to solve a problem and not involve the yearbook teacher.
I have been encouraged enough by the progress made by the staff, that I allowed them to bring food while we finished pages today. Few did. It was the most depressing lack of participation in a party I’ve seen in a long time. Sad.
Last Saturday, we held our second saturday meeting of the year and had very poor attendance, less than half the staff. So many excuses, so little time. I am going to hold them to their deadline and dock their grades accordingly if they don’t finish.
I am seeing more students in the yearbook room after school, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like we are making progress fast enough. Other times, I’m amazed at the amount of work they get done in a class period. I think that they enjoy the crawl-run, crawl-crawl, run really fast pace of it all. And here it comes, we have a deadline!
I may need some Starbucks before next week is over.
My first year, yearbook staff members are working on their first layouts now – panel pages. It is going to be an interesting week with them going through all the fits and starts of first time designers. The panel pages are templated out pretty well, but someone always finds a way to make things difficult. It just happens that way.
I hate selling. I went to college to be a writer, ended up a TV reporter/producer/director/editor. And then I became a teacher. Nowhere did I have any desire to become an accountant or work in sales. In fact, I despise anything to do with selling stuff.
The way I figure it, if you want something, you will buy it. If you don’t, you won’t. I hate all the garbage about advertising appeals and pitches, etc. I hate collecting, counting and accounting for money even more.
It is a necessary evil when it comes to yearbooks. Today, I turned in yearbook sales money. The amount of paperwork involved to account for each sale is amazing. In addition, we keep a database in a secure online server as well. The total work of making one payment for a yearbook is easily five minutes of data entry, printing, filing and accounting.
I don’t even want to talk about selling yearbook ads.
The teachers at my school were surprised today with a barbecue hot dog lunch. The dogs were freshly cooked on a real grill by one of the assistant principals and served with trimmings and condiments. It was nice to get that surprise and I sent an email to my AP and principal to show my appreciation. I know that they are used to me griping, so a happy email must have been a pleasant change.
My yearbook staff hasn’t responded to the mandatory tutorial time, except the editor in chief who has been there after school every day. I told her today, that she needs to talk to them. They aren’t listening to me. I’m glad she cares enough, now the rest of them need to do so too.
Yesterday, we had a meeting to discuss our budget process over the last year or two. The meeting was a shocker. I can’t really tell more, but I’m still in shock. That’s why I didn’t write a post yesterday. Needless to say, it didn’t make my ulcer any happier.
The more you think you know, the less you actually know. I steeled my nerves to tell my advanced yearbook class that they would need to stay after for at least one hour a week, every week until we get back on track. This will be mandatory tutorial time.
Most didn’t complain, and some actually seemed happy that I was making it a requirement. I guess the more you think you know about your staff, the less you actually know.