Issue 3, subset 1: The First Battle of Bull Run

Friday morning, my history professor began talking about how he couldn't contain his swearing when he saw the morning's headlines. Our college president, Dr. Thomas Fallo, is asking for a 13 percent pay raise to his already astounding salary. As of yet, EC has cut 150 class sections and is on warning from the accreditation committee, so this demand has hit the campus hard and is causing an uproar. The board meeting is to take place today, and as of yet, I am calling around to find out the location of the meeting.

The impact across campus is so great, that the meeting can no longer take place in the standard board room. Of course, with an issue as delicate as this, the new location of the meeting is remaining relatively undisclosed to keep people at bay. As a journalist, not only can you agilely take on these diversions and barriers, you live for them. Like a wolf with its sights set on a weaker animal, journalists chase down the story because stories are naturally weak. As long as they are going on, they are in the public eye--anything out in the open that much cannot sustain itself and cannot continue to run for much longer.

Still, people tend to protect stories and shoo away any fastidious and hungry journalists. There are a lot more administrators, faculty and staff than there are members of the Union. This is why a journalist's only hope is always persistence, which does NOT come naturally. This is why journalists should always first come to the side of those more experienced in order to inherit this quality.

At this point, the opposition has us under its thumb and have us squirming under the strain of the "First Battle of Bull Run." There is still, however, plenty of time ahead of us. We're going in for the kill.

Issue 2: Attack on Fort Sumter

Around the second issue of the newspaper, there always seems to be this humbling sense of--well, devastation. There's that moment where everyone seems to lose their head and be unsure of what to do next. Everyone feels surrounded. The writers feel like they are caught in a web of stories they were unprepared for and the editors feel as though their pages will stay blank forever. This is why it's always best to have a lookout.

As for my humbly devastating moment, I found myself staring down a single, massive white space. My stories had no photos, as they were not very photo-worthy (after all, how do you capture enrollment, cheating and a debate team tournament on a camera?). This is why this week, my humblest, most devastating thanks go to our co-photo editor, Filip. Journalists are good at finding news, but photographers are good at seeing news.

On Wednesday afternoon, I sent my quickest writer on the scene to cover anti-abortion demonstrators and a crowd of students, with myself and Miyu, our managing editor, tumbling after. As usual, there was a beligerent mob of students who disagreed, shouting obscenities as they passed, with the organizers of this display handing our fliers which people dumped on the floor. While I believe in freedom of speech, the displays were entirely gruesome and over-the-top. Blood-soaked fetuses are not images most people want force-fed to them. Obviously, some people could relate to this feeling of disgust a little too much.

While I kept my eye out for students not blinded by the signage to be interviewed, I saw one spiky-haired gentleman march up to the sign and shout "What the...(I'll leave this up to the imagination)!" right in the face of one of the demonstrators. There was nothing but what sounded like roaring coming from him for a few seconds until he stormed off through the crowd. He's just lucky these people weren't like most who have visted EC in the past.

Let's not forget the infamous Paul Mitchell who came to campus proclaiming women in politics were doomed to burn in hell. While pictures of aborted fetuses are not exactly calm images with no intent on drawing attention, and despite the quiver in my stomach from the overdone gore and propaganda (enough to dizzy even me, the biggest fan of horror flicks on this side on the country), students should be glad these demonstrators weren't riding onto campus on the idealogy of enternal damnation. Ok, so perhaps they were underhandedly, but at least it wasn't the star of the show.

In short, lookouts will keep breaking news from slipping away and serve as a great defense, not to mention a stellar showing of journalism, in the face of an empty page and an eager campus. And breaking news is the biggest source of adrenaline rushes you will ever face. It may not be the most pleasent thing you want to see, but the story behind it certainly is worth the time and effort. If I haven't made it clear enough--I did not enjoy the displays, but watching the story unfold and all the random incidents I would have missed had Filip not been out to see it was certainly a blast to be a part of.

Issue 1: Seceding from the Union

Granted, we ARE the Union. So just who is seceding? At the beginning of every semester on staff, the war between journalists and those who may be in one of our stories begins. This is because at the beginning, there is always confusion and a disconnect from many things that may have occurred over breaks. It's at this point in time where we realize that the people we did know may not be here anymore. At this point, we have to learn names again, learn the styles of different writers and form new bonds again.

That being said, it's only obvious that it is advantageous for editors to write stories over breaks and continue scrounging through news letters and online updates in preparation for what may happen and what may go wrong. This was proven to me by covering a story about hackers invading MyECC, the portal in which students may regsiter for classes/get unofficial transcripts/use e-mail (which no one uses)/use the library's resources/etc. Apparently, someone managed to infultrate an administrator's laptop, get their personal seal of which they use in their e-mails and send it to people from all around. This, somehow, led to my discovery that the MyECC portal would be redone into something which, administrators hoped, would attract students to use the services (more than they already are) and use the e-mail (which, as I said, they are not).

Why does it matter? Because in any situation which may turn sour at the sound of bad news, it is best to use journalistic efforts to win over some administrators. Of course, this cannot be done with maniacal intent, but it definitely relives the hassle of forcing ideas to generate when you have been hibernating through the duration of winter break. Building a rapport with the source can certainly relieve headaches in the future, because not only do they understand your purpose, but you become familiar with theirs and know when you can go to them for help.

Lastly, while I believe new aesthetics may not be the key to tapping in to the wants of EC students, it is certainly a step in the right direction. After all, as with journalism, we all know people will be turned off to something not pleasing to the eye. Believe you me, the almost-completely-blank space with the little blue links of the MyECC portal is not something I necessarily find fun--albiet, it is easy, but certainly not a pleasure. Perhaps in the years to come, EC will be up to speed and catch up to the digital age. It will certainly attract plenty of students.