I was so proud of the staff this week because at our editor’s meeting we had a really productive time where we planned out exactly what was going to go into the paper, and it all worked perfectly. I should have known that couldn’t last.

This week, because new student conferences were over, we had very few advertisers, which meant that we had a very small paper, only four pages. So, a lot of our content had to be scrapped or redesigned to fit on this small paper. I had to make snap decisions about where to put what article, with what photo or graphic. There were a lot of times when the content wouldn’t fit into the paper at all, so we had to make articles web-only.

A lot of our staples, like comics and a feature photo and the where on campus, frequently couldn’t fit into the paper either, which disappointed quite a few of our readers. But, that’s what happens when you can’t get advertising. Advertising decides the size of the paper, which makes me a feel a little powerless, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. And you can forget completely about having an associated press wire…local content only.

Flexibility means being able to roll with the punches, and take changes in stride, as part of a day’s work. I am much more comfortable with that now, and learned that the best laid plans can go astray.

We were going to have an early night on Monday. All the news had gotten in, and we were almost done putting the pages together at 7, when we heard that there was a tornado warning for Brazos County. Two editors left the Batt office (a mobile trailer) immediately, saying they were seeking shelter at the Rec. The rest of us decided to stay and finish the paper first, however. About 10 minutes later, though, a funnel cloud had formed over Kyle Field, and Mattie made the decision that everyone was going to evacuate to the MSC.

Our city editor was at this point conducting a phone interview. We finally had to tell her, “Meagan, GET OFF THE PHONE. We’re leaving.” We literally ran to the MSC because it was storming outside. Meagan said later that her first thought at this point is, “Dang. Now I’m going to have to write another news brief about the storm.”

We get inside the MSC, and all anyone wants to do is find a window to watch the storm. Meagan’s thinking of what to write in her brief. After about another half an hour, two photographers who had been in the office with us, Jeremy and Patrick, find us, completely soaked. We discover they have been outside photographing the funnel cloud this whole time. Then Jeremy has the great idea of getting the key to the radio club’s room, on the third floor, so that they can open the windows and get a picture of the lightning. Fearless photographers. After about another 45 minutes or so, the tornado warning goes away, we get back to the office and write the brief, with information about power outages and downed trees, accompanied by the funnel cloud shot. Just another long day at the office.

I still caught mistakes, reading through the paper. But this time, when I saw that a word was omitted or the spacing was wrong, instead of thinking, oh how sloppy the people at the Battalion are, I thought, Mattie must have moved that at the last second, or, it must have been midnight when they proofed that page. No, it’s still not acceptable, and we need to do our best to keep small mistakes like that at a minimum, but having them does not mean The Battalion is doing a poor job, it just means that they’re students too, and are doing their best to keep up with classes, and social lives, and other organizations, and still put a paper out every night.

The other thing that was different being on the other side was the worry. I just kept thinking, What if something happens? What if there’s a problem that comes up that they need me for? (Which was highly unlikely, because Mattie’s really in charge of sending pages and keeping the newsroom together anyway, I’m just the public face of the paper. But I still worried.)

I highly enjoyed my days off, but am glad to be back amidst the action again, with the inside look at how the Battalion comes together. (And of course, getting all my news a day early.)

That said, I think we’ve become much more efficient at getting our pages done. Instead of being in the newsroom till 1 or 2 in the morning, oftentimes we’ve got everything sent by 10. This shows greater familiarity with the programs we’ve been using, and increased efficiency. I hope that over the rest of the summer we can do even better than this.

Along with my other duties as editor in chief, the past few weeks I have been attending many administrative meetings, and there’s a term that keeps popping up. Shared governance. It’s become very overused at Texas A&M and I’m going to share my thoughts on the whole matter.

Shared governance is a big dispute right now. Every side, from the students to the faculty to the administration, thinks that the other sides don’t have it, and everyone wants to be included. As a whole, everyone can agree that shared governance is a good thing, but no one can agree on exactly what it entails. There’s even a committee that’s been formed, that the chairman of the board of regents is on, to define shared governance, and they haven’t figured it out yet.

To me, shared governance means everyone gets a say in what goes on. That the people who are affected by any decision are the ones who get to make that decision. I think that’s what the student body thinks shared governance is as well.

The faculty might think that shared governance means the people in charge ask the people who are experts in the decision that is going to be made for advice on how to make that decision, and when the advice is given to them, they use it. So shared governance, to the faculty, means that those who understand the problem should get to make the decision.

The administration, however, I believe thinks that shared governance means that they’re in charge, but they ask for people’s opinions. Sometimes they ask the experts, and sometimes they just ask for general comments. Then, however, they take that information and add it in with what they want to do, and make the decision regardless of the feedback.

The term that goes right along with shared governance is open communication. So, sure, if you try hard enough, you can give your opinion, but whether or not your opinion will be listened to is a completely different matter.

That’s what I’ve gotten out of the last few weeks’ discussions of shared governance, and where to move forward with the University. My next project is shared services, because I am highly suspicious of this initiative. The Board of Regents wants to start implementing it in September, and they just made teams to get feedback. Feedback from where? Feedback from whom? More than half of the students are gone, so it sure won’t be feedback from them. They’re supposed to be talking to the faculty, but the people affected by consolidation of business services, IT services, marketing services, won’t be the faculty, it’ll be the students and staff. And I get the feeling that “consolidation services” and “maximizing efficiency” is just fancy talk for cutting jobs.

I know I’m supposed to be talking about communication practices I’ve learned, but this is what I’m learning now – the manipulation of language by politicians to deceive people. So I’m going to do the best I can to take all the fancy, dressed-up vocabulary and put it into plain English.

I have fully experienced the meaning of the old newspaper saying, “A journalist is never off duty.” Even when I’m supposed to be relaxing, on the weekends, I’m searching through major news sources to find good ideas for next week. Staying on top of breaking news has become my number one priority, some might say obsession (I would say obsession), so that other news sources don’t get their stories out before we do. I’ve never really avidly read the news, I’ve always been more of a skimmer, or I read it if it interests me, but now I devour anything that might have the slightest applicability to Texas A&M and my readers. The never-ending search for stories to put in the Batt is exhausting, to say the least.

I’m going to end the blog this week with a plea that I’m sure you have all heard before. If you have anything to say, about anything at all, tell us! Send in your opinion in a short mail call, or a long guest column, and chances are you’ll see your name in the Batt shortly. We really do value your opinion, and want to get all your comments, questions, praises and complaints. Thanks, and Gig ‘em!

I would like to begin by saying that every single one of the section editors did an outstanding job this week. Many of them were brand new to the Battalion, but they learned about everything so fast and were still able to put out a great paper every day. The experienced editors helped everyone with any little thing they had a question about, and stayed to the very end every night to make sure the paper got done. I don’t know what I would have done without all of you, so thanks for working so hard and being so good at what you do!

This week we debuted our summer series, student leader profiles. The student leader profiles are a compilation of everything from what the jobs of student leaders actually entail, to how they are able to do those jobs and why they were chosen, to what they do in their spare time. Every section gets in on the act, each contributing something about the student leader. This week’s profile was Student Body President Eric Beckham. I am especially proud of this issue. Mattie, the managing editor, did a wonderful job on the front page, and everyone did a great job setting the stage for future student leader profiles.

I plan to continue writing in this blog once a week, so keep checking back! Also, as always, if you have any comments or questions about the Batt, send in a mail call to mailcall@thebatt.com, or ask me at editor@thebatt.com. Thanks, and Gig ‘em!

Today was our last staffwide meeting of the year. I know we should all be rejoicing that the school year is almost over, we’re all almost done with school (well…maybe not all of us), etc. However, I couldn’t help feeling a little melancholy. This is the last meeting I will preside over as editor-in-chief of The Battalion. My “reign,” so to speak, is coming to an end.

Like I told my staff: it’s been a long, hard year. I’ve never been more stressed in my entire life. Grades have plummeted. Friends have fallen by the wayside because they can’t handle my total lack of availability or the weird hours I keep. I rarely get to go home.

However, it has truly been the most rewarding year of my life. I have learned and grown so much in this past year–I really feel like it’s impossible to chart the changes that have taken place within me since assuming this position. I completely and totally appreciate and admire every single person I work with, and every person and situation this job has brought me into contact with. Words cannot summarize the wealth of knowledge and experience I have gained from having this job. 

Much like the saying used to identify the distinction between Aggies and non-Aggies, in relation to this job: from the outside looking in, you can’t understand it. And from the inside looking out, you really–you just can’t explain it.

This year has been phenomenal. I will miss you all. I have loved every minute of this job, even the unbearable ones. I don’t regret a single decision. I don’t wish I could have done anything differently. I’ve accepted the mistakes and gains I have made for this paper, and will take the time I’ve spent here and move on, constantly learning from them.

To my staff: you have all touched me on such a deep level. I know I joke around with you guys, but you are seriously the most important people in my life aside from my family and childhood friends. I spend pretty much every waking moment with you guys. You’re all so incredible. I truly believe that any one of you can do whatever you want.

To the student body: Thank you for giving me the challenges and encouragement I needed to help me excel at my job. This paper wouldn’t exist without you guys. Keep the comments coming–we will never get enough.

To my advisers at work (Cheri Shipman and Robert Wegener): You watched me develop from this meek, shy reporter who rarely spoke up to what I have become today. I wonder constantly what you saw in me when I used to sit in the back of the newsroom on those GA nights, and what caused you to push me to accomplish all I have today, and stand behind the decisions I chose to make. I appreciate you allowing me to fail sometimes, but stretching a safety net out behind me. Just in case. Without your support, I honestly don’t know where I would be today.

To the future staff of The Battalion: Please don’t undo all that we have worked so hard to get done (haha jk). Be prepared for the unexpected. Love what you do. Don’t get caught up in the politics or drama. And remember not to forget to live.

Thank you, Batt staffers, for the most amazing year of my life. I will never forget you.

While I do have a variety of relevant topics to discuss, I thought today I would focus on a mini-lecture given in my COMM 308 class yesterday morning with Prof. Stephenson. If you have had him for anything, you know Mr. Mike to be a man of great humor and wit, able to turn what could be an entirely dull subject (research methods of communication) and make it into an early-morning event I actually attempt to attend; and a man of great personal strength, having recently beat cancer (whoop!) after knocking on Heaven”s front door.

Upon the commencement of class, he instructed us to put away our notes and instead of launching into what would have undoubtedly been a delightful presentation on content analysis…he started talking about something else. Asking us how he could teach us not just to retain the information presented in this course, but REALLY teach us something.

His message was clear: having cancer ordered him to really stop and think. Prioritize. Live. Realize all the wonderful, fantastic things about life and revel in them, day-to-day. As  he said, “listen with his eyes.” Our generation is so caught up in being competitive, coming out ahead, being involved in everything and still making the grade, etc…we’re so eternally “tuned in” that we forget to stop sometimes and just smell the roses. Listen to the wind blowing through the trees. Appreciate the blue of the sky, the smell of the grass, the feel of the very earth beneath our feet. How often do we actually do this? Are we so caught up the long list of tasks and accomplishments we need to get out of each day that we’ve forgotten how?

As a college student taking 12 hours, working what has become a full-time job, looking for career opportunities for once I graduate and maintaining a minimum 3.5 GPA so I can keep my scholarships, I’ll admit that I fall victim to this rat race more often than not. I almost feel like sometimes, I’m just living day to day, waiting with bated breath for my body to catch up and quit on me for lugging it around with little to no sleep and fuel with little to no nutritional value.

Dr. Stephenson’s impromptu lecture on life really touched me. It was almost as if he had reached out and personally caught me by the arm. Forcing me to slow down–not just slow down, but halt completely…has really altered my mindset. It’s a very liberating feeling, realizing that at the end of the day, the world is still going to turn if I don’t make that A; if I miss deadline every once in a while; if I don’t go to class. I want to encourage everyone who reads this post to do the same.

And Dr. Stephenson: if you’re reading this–mission accomplished.

Schoolwork. Running the paper. Spring Break. Sitting down and writing the longest, wittiest, most entertaining and flexibly-worded post about student election campaigning, then being shot down by WordPress when they logged me out after a certain amount of stilled activity on the site. Frustration.

And now we are here, the weekend after several members of my staff have come back from TIPA, the annual Texas Intercollegian Press Association’s weekend-long competition. Universities and community colleges from all across the state shack up in one lucky Hilton for 2-3 days filled with severely outdated journalism competitions and local cuisine. Last year’s was here, in College Station, so the Batt staff simply helped set up the material packets for the competitions. This year it was in Dallas, so some of our best and brightest were shipped off to win prestige and glory to bring back to College Station.

We placed in several categories including broadcast, copy-editing, some design, some overall awards and recognition of the entire staff for content and overall. It is always an honor to be recognized by anyone as a reputable paper and while every day there are unhappy people, it is important to remember that even if they’re pissed, even if they’re sending me hate mail by the gigabytes–at least they’re reading, right?

Congrats to our staff. And thank you for coming in on Easter Sunday to put out the paper tomorrow. We may all gripe and complain but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy to see all of you. It is the high point of my day, every day.

I feel like there’s been a huge discrepancy in the information offered (even though a public information records request would reveal all the statistics needed, as I’m sure many Aggies already know) about the funding of The Battalion and vocal student opinion. I also feel it is my duty as EIC to enlighten the masses, or at least make this information more readily available and easier to understand, because frankly, I’m tired of being called crooked and being under fire for “catering to the right people.”

Basically, when The Anthem published that article last week about Murano and we had a little battle royale of the papers, I got even more hate mail than usual criticizing us for pandering to the hand that feeds us.

Well, I have something to say to all those who believe we’re nothing more than a conservative extension of the administration cleverly integrated into the student body: not only are we an INDEPENDENT student publication, but we are predominately self-funded as well. Our advertising department, which has faculty advisers but is also run by students, brings in 98 percent of the money used to support The Battalion.

This is how it works. The Student Media Board meets each semester and at the beginning of the school year, discusses the annual budget for Student Media (which includes The Battalion and Aggieland, Texas A&M’s yearbook). For the Fiscal Year 2008-2009, the budget totaled $1.4 million, about $1 million of which is appropriated specifically for The Battalion.

You’re probably wondering, where does the other two percent come from? Well, friends, that significant $22,000 comes from student fees, without which Student Media would just absolutely flounder around and eventually go under, of course. Not that $22,000 isn’t a lot of money—but let’s do a little basic math, shall we? $22,000 divided by upwards of 45,000 students enrolled at Texas A&M who all pay the required student fees ends up being around 50 cents per student. I’m sorry, but I just don’t see how that’s breaking anyone’s bank.

And not that The Battalion’s allegiance can be bought, but I like to think we’d have more dignity than to sell ourselves for 50 cents.