To all the yearbook advisers out there drowning – this one’s for you.
To the advisers who stay until 6 pm or later daily (even on Fridays) so kids can be your room and work on their pages, even though the A/C turned off at 3:30.
To the advisers who re-edit the same spread 87 times just for it to kind-of-sorta be okay enough to submit, knowing it will just have to be fixed on proofs.
To the advisers who should buy stock in Wite-Out due to the amount of calendar and deadline changes from weather-related school closures.
PS: Did you know that’s how you spell Wite-Out? I definitely thought it was “white.” #themoreyouknow
To the advisers who don’t understand why kids, despite being almost old enough to vote and buy cigarettes, don’t know how to capitalize or punctuate or spell or what a subject or verb are.
To the advisers who can’t really vent to co-workers or spouses because no one really gets it.
To the advisers who have to simultaneously juggle the looming yearbook deadline, as well as advising newspaper (who is also on deadline), teaching Journalism 1, Photojournalism and/or Broadcast classes. Not to mention answering advertiser and parent emails and phone calls, attendance, inputting grades, maintaining personal hygiene, eating right, and getting some fresh air and sunlight every now and then. Bonus points to advisers with biological children of their own who inevitably do their homework in the yearbook room, know the staff by name, and eat dinner from a greasy paper bag more often than we’d like to admit.
To the advisers who pause their carefully crafted lesson plans to adapt and deal with the reality that follows a mass shooting at a high school not unlike the one they walk into everyday. By “deal,” I mean allow these delicate teenage souls a place to vent and reflect and be sad and mad and foster an environment where those feelings and discussions are okay and encouraged.
To the advisers who just want a nap. Then coffee. Then coffee and a nap. (Feel free to replace coffee with wine.)
To the advisers who legit want a tattoo that says “trust the process.”
To the advisers who make sure being on staff is just as much fun as it is hard work – somehow finding time to organize outings and dinners and celebrations and goofy photos for the banquet.
To the teachers who are REALLY GOOD advisers but get in trouble for being bad teachers because they’re too overwhelmed and things just slip through the cracks.
To the advisers who stay up too late editing stories and captions and layouts and thinking about how to tweak page content.
To the advisers who wonder if they’re really teaching the kids anything valuable.
To the advisers who work so hard to craft a beautiful book, but struggle to sell it to a student body who don’t see the value in it.
To the advisers who inherit a hot mess of a yearbook program. And the ones who were handed a program but have no background in anything even remotely close to journalism.
To the advisers who are fueled by the day that big truck delivers those books. When that box opens and the kid’s faces light up with pride… and it’s finally worth it.
To the advisers who see the final product and actually have to fight back tears because it’s hard to believe it actually got finished and produced and IT’S HERE.
Here’s to you
Ya’ll – this job isn’t a joke. It means long, long hours with (sometimes) sweaty teenagers in a hot room that smells like a mixture of marinara sauce and popcorn.
Our final deadline is in 15 tiny school days. That’s 675 in-class minutes, which is nothinggggg. Maybe this whole post is me being dramatic, but at this point in the year I’m frazzled, stressed out, unsure, excited, and barely keeping things together. I know I’m not alone and I’m with you.
This afternoon, I grounded my editors. I said they are grounded from yearbooking this weekend. The next three weeks are going to be intense and frustrating at times and we need to take this weekend to enjoy ourselves. Take some time for mental health. Go for a walk. Enjoy the warmth of the sun on your skin (it’s been a while since we’ve had that). Hang out with friends. Watch a movie with your mom.
…and I committed to doing the same. I know it’s going to go against everything I feel I want to do, but I know it’s for the best. I issue you the same challenge.
Advisers, take a breath. You will make it! The book will get done! The students will love it! And sweet, sweet summer will come.
