When I got the first e-mail from my now-editor saying he’d seen my resume and had two reporting slots open, would I be interested in interviewing? I didn’t know what to say.

I’d heard of Lafayette. Kind of, sort of, in the way I’ve heard of Portland, Oregon, or Fairbanks, Alaska, or Ithaca, New York. I knew it existed and in which state of the union. But that’s where my knowledge ended.

I fired off a few e-mails to some professors, trying to gauge their collective knowledge of the city and the paper. One had never heard of it or been to the city. One noted the paper’s much-publicized redesign. One said it was a strong community paper. No ringing endorsements, but nothing to turn me off.

When I talked to my editor the first time, I’m sure thought I was crazy (not sure much has changed?). A lot of my questions focused not necessarily on the paper or the job but on the community. I wanted to land somewhere I would enjoy, somewhere I could grow, somewhere I could find my place. Luckily, I did.

But man, moving to a place where I didn’t know a soul, and which I wasn’t sure if I’d even like, was probably the craziest, scariest thing I’ve ever done. I know it comes with the territory of being a journalist. In fact, that was part of the draw to journalism. I obviously survived, but gosh, it sucked at the time.

So it was with great joy that one of my best friends from college came to intern here for the summer. It was with greater joy when another of my good friends from college accepted a job here.

Part of his reasoning for taking the job was that I was already here. How much easier is it to start from scratch in a new place when someone else has vetted the area for you and built a group of friends for you to slip into? A lot.

It helps that I like it here, though. If I didn’t, I would never let another of my friends within a hundred miles. I’d protect them by keeping them away. But instead, I’m helping them find their way to a place that is a good jumping off point.

So, it’s with great joy that another of my former Stater peers has just accepted a job here. She’ll join the copy desk. And more joy yet that another has applied for another job here.

We’re taking over. LOL. Not really, but considering a year ago this place wasn’t on the KSU radar (and still should be much more the territory of Ball State/IU grads), I say we’re on to something. I don’t know if it’s normal for one person to go somewhere and then start a chain reaction. Obviously this is my first job. But I like the fact that the next time a kid at Kent State sees an opening in Lafayette, when they ask about the paper the professors will all respond, “So&so and So&so and So&so all worked there. It’s a good community and strong paper. You should definitely check it out.”

My greatest weakness as a writer, and I suppose reporter, is my propensity to over-report. I’ve always been like this. I always end up with 10x what I actually need. It’s a good thing to have too much, or at least, better than not enough. Right?

Turns out, not always. But man, it’s a hard habit to shake.

Part of it is my approach to stories. Sometimes, I guess, I’m like a kid in a candy store; my eyes are much bigger than my stomach. I can think of 10 great angles to every story but need to work on narrowing it down to one angle at a time so I can better focus. Then, I can come back and hit some of the other angles separately, which my editor says (probably rightly) would better serve our readers. I’ll also be less likely to be paralyzed/overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of work to be done.

Focus has always been an issue of mine. Not just the “man I can’t focus with the scanner, the TV, the phones, e-mail and the other dozen reporters constantly chattering,” which yeah can be difficult, too. But focusing a story that I’ve over reported can be daunting. What doesn’t make the cut? What great story remains untold for another day? How many unanswered questions are OK? And how many of these questions, which I have indeed answered in my reporting, are the story chatters going to call me out on tomorrow because they didn’t make it to print?

I guess, to use another food-related cliche: I sometimes bite off more than I can chew. Which leads to “indigestion,” when it comes time to report and I end up chasing down angles I don’t use or need, or when I’m stressed trying to pull together a single coherent story from 10 story lines. (Oh, and throw in phrases like “hold to cover” or “12 inches” or my personal favorite, “a charticle out front and the impact inside,” and this makes the process that much more complicated.) By better focusing my ideas (there we go with focus again), I guess it would help me focus my reporting and hone in on just the specifics necessary to tell *this* story. As I said before, I can come back to the other angles. Sometimes, I forget that.

Worst of all? This tendency is compounded by something I really, really, really do need to get over. ASAP. That is, I can’t write until I’ve reported. Until I know who I have talked to, what they’ve said, who can be grouped together, what data opposes what or supports whom, where each piece fits together with the whole. This helps me discover gaps in my logic or my reporting. But I’m told actually writing as soon as I’m reporting each piece would do the same, probably more effectively, and writing earlier would help lead me down the path in a more narrow and, get this, focused manner.

I can bang the story out, usually, once I have all the ducks in a row. Sometimes, on more in-depth or bigger pieces these ducks take on the form of a rough outline, usually scribbled on a post-in stuck to my monitor. But like I said, I tend to over-report, so it’s more complicated than that. I have to sort out the ducks, decide which ones make the cut, which get relegated to the file cabinet, which to the trash and which bits actually make it through to the story I file and ultimately, the paper/Web site. If I had fewer ducks or was better as picking the ducks early on, this step would likely be easier. I wouldn’t have to “kill my darlings” so often. I’d also have more drafts, which would allow more revisions until I was pleased with exactly how it was phrased and ordered.

The other problem with over reporting? It takes time. Time isn’t really a luxury I have when writing two or so stories a day, plus any online updates that may pop up. It isn’t a luxury I’m likely to ever have. So managing what time I do have is paramount.

I both love and hate the emphasis on enterprise reporting here. I love it because I am pushed to constantly assess my beat for these issues worth looking at more in-depth. But I resent it because there’s never enough time to do the stories as well as I think they could be. Maybe I’m a perfectionist. (OK, that’s a big “maybe” and is more likely just “I am.”) But I don’t know. I have written several stories that I liked, but when I look at them in retrospect, I think them merely OK. Nothing stands out. When I look at my writing, rather than being proud of it, I constantly see what I could have or should have done instead. It’s a poor way to live. My sense of accomplishment lasts only as long as I have filed the story and am not on deadline for the next one. It’s really odd because I am such an optimist. But I guess I live in perpetual self-improvement mode, that is I’m always assessing how I did and how I can do better next time. Does this go away as I become even more confident in my writing and reporting? I’m banking on that. I don’t want to get complacent, but I would like to see the good in my work.

Why am I relaying my personal faults here? Well, you all are smarter than I am. (At least collectively.) Surely, I’m not the first person to go through this. I know I’m not, because my editor tried to give me some tips to combat it during my recent annual review (where we discussed some of these weaknesses, but which generally went well.) Maybe some of you much-experienced journalists can weigh in with tips that helped you solve these problems. Here’s one sheet I’ve already found about writing while reporting, which has some good tips to get me started.

So to recap, things to work on now that my rookie year as a reporter is behind me: more focused story pitches, and consequently tighter-focused reporting and writing; following up those big-picture stories through several shorter stories rather than one big piece; writing sooner and reworking/revising more often; confidence that I am in fact doing all right in my job.

All of those are reporting/writing technical issues. Yes, I know. We did talk about some of the other things I’d like to do. I’m going to keep pushing to be involved in things like NPD and to get some multimedia work experience here. But as I’ve told everyone all along, I see this job as the foundation of my career. I need to be a strong reporter before I can be a strong anything else.

What’s really important in all of this, and which I haven’t mentioned yet: I survived. I was scared when I was in school that I’d graduate, get a job and hate journalism. I was fearful I’d hate the city I ended up in or the beat I landed. I wasn’t sure I would like doing this every day, or that I wouldn’t stumble, fall and embarrass myself by even trying. I always left myself the out that I don’t get paid enough to hate my job, and if I didn’t like it, I’d quit and do something else. But, man, it’s been an interesting year. I love it, as much, perhaps more, than I hoped I would. And I’m pretty confident, there’s a whole world out there beyond this city and my beat waiting to be conquered. Once I nail down these basics as well as I’d like to, I’m sure it’ll be ready for me.

I have been taking a deliberate “hands off” and “mouth shut” approach to the 2008 presidential election so far. Not even my closest friends can tell you who I’d like to see enter the Oval Office in 2009. Part of it was I felt it was too early to choose my allegiance, and part of it was, I’m not into talking politics like I used to be.

Tonight, I happened upon some T-shirts supporting the candidate that I really, really want. And it saddens me that I can’t wear them.

I’ve never kept my political affiliations a secret, but I’ve grown increasingly less willing to discuss them. I even removed that slot from my Facebook profile, and unjoined groups I’d been part of more for laughs than anything else. I even removed my “support” for office holders in my home state, Ohio, because it’s fairly obvious to follow that line to my political beliefs.

Do I think all this is necessary? Actually, no. I know other reporters who think expressing any opinion is tantamount to an ethical breech. I don’t think it’s that much of an issue for someone to know I lean liberal, or that much of a surprise. If you ask, I will tell you.

But part of being a journalist is maintaining that objectivity, or at least maintaining professional distance and not giving anyone a reason to question your ability to be objective and unbiased. So by removing those items, I am not showing support to one side or the other. If that makes sense, I can still hold the same opinions without wearing my opinions on my sleeve, so to speak.

A few weeks ago, I was tapped to cover a meeting for a new group whose cause could not possibly have been farther from my own belief system. When I got the assignment, I paused for a second to reflect on it and how it made me feel. I covered it as I would any other assignment. I was neither more nor less critical than I would have been were it a rally for a cause I care deeply about. In fact, I got several e-mails the following day/week from the group’s founders and members commending me for my professionalism and for a fair story. That’s the key I realized when I accepted the assignment: I knew I could be professional about it and reserve judgment for the reader/community member. That’s how I approached it.

Those community members do not know and could not tell from my reporting where I stand on that issue. That’s important. Were I to wear my politics on my sleeve, they would have, rightfully, raised flags. Instead, I showed I could maintain a professional distance both in my coverage of things I am fully in support of and those with whom I couldn’t disagree more.

When I became a journalist, I did not sign over my rights to join civil discourse or to vote and have an opinion. But I did take on the responsibility knowing that I wouldn’t be volunteering for political campaigns or pasting candidate bumper stickers on my car.

The last presidential election was the first I could vote in. Living in Ohio, I had the great fortune of seeing many candidates come through. I did volunteer some time working on mailings for at least one and registering people to vote. I had plenty of T-shirts, buttons and more telling the world where my allegiance lie.

Now, I’m in an entirely different place in my life and career. And though this election is just as important, perhaps more, I know that I won’t be doing any of those things. I never know when I may get called on to cover someone I do support or to handle a story on something I don’t. I have to maintain my professionalism in either instance, and part of that means keeping my mouth shut and my hands off in the political races. No matter how much I want that T-shirt.

I saw this post about the Cleveland Plain Dealer shifting to all local fronts.

That both surprises and excites me.

While I always respected the journalism the PD did, it was never my paper of choice. I favored the Akron Beacon Journal because it felt more like “my” paper. Even though I realized it was a metro — not as major as the PD, but a pretty respectable size — it also wasn’t afraid to be Akron’s community paper. That “community” mission was not a vibe I ever got reading the PD. (And not just because Akron wasn’t their community — they laid claim to all of NE Ohio — but it was just their approach. I don’t know how to explain it. It almost felt like it was trying to be something it wasn’t, at least to me.)

Either way, I never felt a “connection” with the PD. That’s why I still read Ohio.com almost daily, but I can’t remember the last time I stopped in at Cleveland.com. I still gleefully pick up the Beacon every time I’m home. The PD? Not so much.

I’m glad to see the PD embracing the hyper-local, which is what newspapers are best at providing and the one thing readers can’t get anywhere else.

For me? I like that we nearly always run all-local fronts. We do run occasional stories from the GNS Washington bureau, but specific to Indiana and often with further localization added. When a national story breaks, it’s online during the day, and if it’s big enough, we follow-up with something local for the paper. Sometimes, on major issues of national importance, we’ll run a charticle version of the wire story with some quick hit points: news, impact, reaction — all held to the cover for maximum readability.

Recently, I read a post with the idea that we should abolish the idea of the A-section being considered the “most important” and yet stuffed with national wire stories that many people have already read, seen or heard before the paper lands on their stoop in favor of pushing more local stories.

I don’t know where I stand on that one, but it’s something to ponder. I both agree that it’s silly to fill our papers with national wire copy many people have already read, but I also think there’s a place for that there. Lots of people haven’t heard, or they saw it on TV and want more than the sound-bite version. I know, it’s growing increasingly less necessary with the Internet, etc., but I do think we should fill that need as much as possible as well.

On the other hand, there is so much news every day — and the amount is only growing — that it’s overwhelming to many people. It’s easy to become apathetic when you try and keep track of everything. Newspapers have always done the job of filtering down a list of most important or I guess, “If you don’t pay any other attention to the national news, these are things you should probably know” stories that occupy a few pages in the paper. To charge a premium on the ads to accompany those stories, I do agree, is disingenuous because their importance continues to dwindle, but I’m not ready to throw out all the national wire stories. They still serve a purpose.

I usually read the paper “Front page, Opinions page (inside A), back of A (jump from front), Local cover, Local inside, glance at Biz…” I’m not the typical news consumer, but notice I still spend the most time with the local news. I also read a lot more news than most people and more frequently. I skip national wire in the paper because I’ve already read or seen most of that news elsewhere. State wire I’m more apt to at least glance through in print, but we run that in our local section not our A-section. This is also assuming I read in print, which I do probably 4/7 days a week. Otherwise online, it’s top 10 slots, local news beyond those stories and then opinions. And that’s about where it ends.

As for getting more local content? I couldn’t agree more. Though I’m not sure where the man-power for that will come from. I don’t believe the “we’re doing more with less” garbage. No, something’s got to give. I digress. Something I’ve come to love here in Lafayette, for better or worse, is that people read what we write. I mean, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been out at a meeting, event, whatever and heard the phrase “Well I read in the newspaper that…” And as much as people will complain about us not covering this or doing too much on that, they read it. They talk about it. Months later, people still remember me from “that column you wrote about moving to Lafayette.” Last week, I was at one of the schools attending a parent booster club meeting. One of the mothers, whom I’d used to illustrate a story on parent involvement the week prior and who’d had her picture on A1, told me everyone commented on it to her. She said she was even stopped by a total stranger in Wal-Mart to talk about it.

People want to feel connected to their communities. The New York Times isn’t going to write about the fire that took the families Christmas presents away in a town smaller than my elementary school. But that’s all those townspeople are talking about for weeks. The Washington Post isn’t going to write about your local standout basketball player signing with a university. But when you stop in the school and ask what’s going on, that’s the first thing anyone will mention.

I know we hear a lot about the demise of foreign reporting. I don’t necessarily disagree. But I do think that newspapers like the PD do a better service to local communities by writing about what they know best: their own people and places. If you have more resources devoted to local reporting, you’ll find more people with stories to tell. It’s bound to happen. And those are the ones people clip out and paste up in their scrapbook to keep forever. That’s the kind of news people want anyway.

(Also this post’s title is a reference to the “Dawg pound“, i.e. the Browns, in Cleveland. Get it? It occurred to me most people wouldn’t. So I wanted to point that out. lol.)

It’s that time of year when journalists reflect on the top stories of the year. Today, I saw Time’s edition on the newsstand blasting its top picks. And the J&C exec. editor’s Sunday column this week was about how the top story really differs from person to person.

The top picks we have were up for debate via a poll at the bottom of jconline. My vote — in agreement with more than 50 percent of the about people to vote by the time I did (I can’t find the polll or its results now to compare) — is the Wade Steffey story.

That story began just as I started here. He went missing the day I moved to this town. Though my part in the ongoing coverage wasn’t much, I do feel proud of all our efforts and the work we did on that story and my own work on it. I just think it touched so many people here in so many ways — from volunteers to friends to Purdue policies to just casual readers, students and strangers — and went on for so long, that of the list it probably left the biggest impact.

It’s not that I don’t think property tax is a big issue. It’s huge. Even though I don’t pay the taxes, the delays here are wreaking havoc on the schools I cover. Plus it’s just an ongoing mess. I just don’t think we’ve actually gotten to the crest of that story. There’s a lot more to come. I’d keep it on my list of stories to watch in ‘08 — which is where I’ll throw Iraq — which would, for the record, be my No. 2 pick among the list. (I would place it No. 1, except that by this point many people have sadly become immune to the news.)

I also think a change in leadership at Purdue is a big deal for the school and I guess the community at large. But really, not as big a deal as we and many others made it out to be. And the ongoing financial troubles at area non-profits is sad, but isn’t financial trouble for non-profits practically the norm? Ditto on the health insurance debacle.

Local municipal elections, eh. Though there were some interesting results and some changes worth watching, it’s not such a big deal to me. Vote centers and a smoking ban, likewise, seemed much ado about nothing.

And the snowstorm in February that practically shut down everything in the county except the J&C was a huge inconvenience at the time, but it came and went. No lasting impact. As evidenced by this weekend’s wintry blast, no lessons learned either. It will go down as nothing more than a punchline to tales of “This is nothing compared to the blizzard of ‘07″ during future storms.

In considering the top stories the J&C covered and also thinking about what the heck I did this year worth even mentioning (it’s hard to remember all the stories I wrote even in the past week!) I’m going to list what I think are/were my 10 biggest stories (or more so issues since it’s hard for anything to be taken alone) I covered this year on the education beat:

1. School funding issues: A new state formula meant some districts (big, growing ones — like TSC) benefited and saw more money, but left others (ones with stagnant, declining enrollment — almost everyone in this region except TSC) to adjust to less state money. Also, the property tax delays are going to cost tax payers hundreds of thousands of additional dollars.
2. Changes in school leadership: West Lafayette has a new superintendent, who has come in and recently proposed some ideas that could be construed as radical. That will be fun to follow. The search for him was not so much fun on my end. Likewise, Benton’s superintendent has just a few weeks left before his replacement steps up to bat. And the county’s largest district is searching for the perfect new guy to fill the very big shoes of the current 18-year incumbant when he retires this summer.
3. Consolidation talks: The three Tippecanoe County districts commissioned a study to look at whether it would be feasible, cost-effective or in their best interest to consolidate resources. Pretty much what came out of it is a collaboration committee to meet annually. This year they met, rehashed what they already work together on and discussed the possibility of a joint charter school. Schools in White County have commissioned a study to look at the same issues. And a recent state report is encouraging these discussions, even suggesting such consolidations (for districts smaller than 2,000 at least) ought to be required. Definitely a trend to follow in 2008.
4. Full-day kindergarten: The legislature offered it to more students than ever this fall as the governor pushed it through. More implementation is on the way. This has caused a glut at some of our local space-starved schools. But generally has good support. Will be an ongoing issue.
5. ISTEP/NCLB/PL221 fall-out: Seems every month or so someone was failing at something according to these numbers/results. I’m working on a few bigger stories that look at some of what the numbers mean — achievement gaps, how poverty/transiency/race affect them, etc. The implications of these numbers, what they say about the schools and the community and what they may mean for both’s future, is interesting and telling about how well students are being reached. Again, something to keep an eye on.
6. Teacher contracts: Benton and WL both finally came to an agreements after a few years of ongoing disagreements as teacher’s finally backlashed. TSC had a relatively minor (compared to those) scuttle with its teachers, approving a contract they rejected, but it did take state intervention to settle 3/4 through the first semester.
7. Graduation rates: Too low in this city, according to the state’s formula which was used for the first time in the rates released in 07 for 2006. Disparities not just between our city high school (which posted a 65 percent) but surprisingly also among two otherwise equal and pretty similar county high schools.
8. School construction, renovation, reuse, demolition: To build or not to build. If not, to put portables outside growing schools or renovate and add another wing. To consolidate schools and close some or restructure/redistrict. To refinance old bonds or not to. What to do with buildings no longer of use/when to just tear them down. What old schools are being/can be used for. What to name new schools as they come on line. Etc. I wrote all those stories, mostly within this county but also in some outlying counties. I suppose this is an always ongoing issue. But taken all together, it is crazy to think how many different hands are being played all at once and how vast the differences between each player (i.e. district) is in their approach.
9. Private/charter schools gaining traction: The one charter in this county is growing. So are all the private schools — especially one of the high schools which of late has become a major player. Another small private school is seeking a charter — from a school district that’s never done it before. Virtual schools were OK’d, then denied, then … well who knows where they’ll end up eventually.
10. School safety: “Hit lists”, accidents and more sprinkled the year. Additional security cameras went up in several schools. Grants for more sidewalks and cross walks were won. Crossing guard times were reconsidered after a fatal accident on the way to school.

So as you can see, I would say I got a pretty amazing schooling on the education beat this year. (That pun was entirely intended, how could I resist?) I’m looking forward to following these and other stories this coming year with a little less “Wait, what does this mean? I’ve never covered this before can you start at zero?” and a bit more in-depth probing on my part.

In addition, I could write a novel of “firsts” I covered this year off my beat — from bank robberies to court sentencings to county commissioners and enterprise looks at some of those non-profits’ issues. I won’t, but the point is, I have grown a lot this year. In a good way.

Enough about me: What were your top stories or projects this year?

I just realized that though I claim to have no experience writing self-evaluations, I am mistaken.

My paper’s letters to Santa just reminded me of that. See, all these are is a quick-hit appraisal of your good deeds over the past year recounted in an attempt to convince the jolly old elf (though in my case, the editors are none of those things) that you are deserving of what you want.

Here’s a few of my favorite submissions, with the part that made me smile in bold. You can read more here and here (and throughout the week at jconline)

• I hope you have a great Christmas. I want some highlighters. I want a CD of High School Musical 2, $50, three gift cards to Toys R Us and a Wal-Mart gift card. Santa my real birthday is Dec. 20 then five days after is Christmas. Christmas is my favorite month in the whole entire year. It is the bestest month because we get presents and oh yeah I also want some new clothes like sweatshirts and new pants and some new shirts too please. And I want to see you on Christmas Eve and I want a globe.
  Cheers,
  Jasmine

• Will you make me soldiers and will you please bring me a dog? And may I have a football game on XBox Santa and one more thing, can I have a brother and a nice sister? Santa your reindeer are cool and P.S. can I have a Wii and a PlayStation? I love you.
  Cheers,
  Mikel

• How are your reindeer? I already know I am going to get coal. I wish I had been good last year and this year. How do you visit all of the houses in one night? I hope on Christmas Eve you won’t be pooped out. How is Mrs. Claus and your elves? How is Rudolph? Some people think you do not exist, but I do so so so much. I hope you have a Merry Christmas!
  Ariel

• I think you should come to my house and bring me a Wii, a bike and a dirt bike 85 cc. I got good grades like A, B, C, D, because I worked hard and got good grades. I helped my grandpa build a doghouse and I was not expecting money. I hope you think I deserve the things I asked for. I hope I get my presents.
  Yours truly,
  Jacob

• I think you should come to my house and bring me a Wii, a laptop, and a Spiderwick book. I haven’t bitten my sister. I worked really hard not to. I also did not hit her all year. I had some candy and gave it to my neighbor. I fed the fish at Indiana Beach. I did it so they would not die. I hope you think I deserve the things I asked for. Please come to my house.
  Your friend,
  Faith

So this isn’t news. But come on, didn’t those make you smile?!

Now that I finally looked through this evaluation form I noticed something interesting. One of the about two dozen skills to be ranked on my upcoming evaluation is “Consistently breaks news online.”

I guess that makes it a priority (as if I didn’t know).

But it’s also funny because it’s in the section above deadlines for daily and enterprise stories. Isn’t the point the deadline is always now?

Gulp.

That was the first thought I had when my boss handed me a form this morning and said, “Self-evaluation. It’s due Dec. 27. Just attach any narrative at the end.”

Um. OK. I can do that. Even though I’ve never done it before. Ever.

Gulp.

How do I do that? Narrative of what? What am I supposed to do with these pages? What do these questions mean? Where does this form go? Who sees it? What do my answers matter? What if I’d rather explain than rank? What if I really fall between two rankings? What if I don’t want to play along? What if I just fill in all 1s and set my expectations low? What if I overshoot, and he really thinks I’m terrible and will wonder WTH was going through my mind? What if I undershoot and he realizes I think I suck? What if I do suck? What if he regrets hiring me? What if he lets me go? What if… I’m blowing this all out of proportion? I know.

Gulp.

I knew this day was coming. A year ago this weekend, I graduated. A year ago next week, I was interviewing for this position. A year ago next month, I established residency in the Hoosier state.

• What have I learned over the past year? (Too much to put into words, and yet, never enough.)
• What have I accomplished with my rookie year? (A lot, but not as much as I hoped.)
• What have I to show for the first 52 weeks of my professional life? (More bylines than I thought possible — lessons attached to most. Connections I couldn’t have fathomed. Golden opportunities I lucked into. But too many questions unanswered, lessons unlearned, personal goals not met.)

But what’s more, or at least, all I can think of at this point:

• What haven’t I learned that I should have? (A lot, I’m sure.)
• What haven’t I accomplished with my rookie year? (Too much.)
• What haven’t I got to show for my first 52 weeks of my professional life? (More than I’d like to admit.)

I don’t like this feeling of uncertainty. It’s unbecoming. I am more a “pull off the band aid quickly” type of person. When I sit around and actually dwell on this, I grow less confident instead of more. I don’t like that.

Am I proud of what I have done here? Hell yes. I should be! I’m working way too hard not to be.

I stumbled my way through many difficult tasks/stories this year with gusto. I do feel like I am doing well overall, though certainly I have room to improve. (Hello, if I didn’t realize that I’d be delusional.) But just today, four different people on my beat commented to me — one through e-mail, one passing in the hall, one in an office as I was signing into a school and one in a phone conversation — on what a “great job” I have been doing on this beat. Three of the four have been part of less than positive coverage within the past month — so it’s not even me doing a great job making them look good! I don’t look to external validation, but I do feel like to the readers and to the members of the community I cover, I have proven myself and made a positive impact.

But that’s not the point of the self-evaluation. Is it? The real challenge is have I proven myself to my toughest critic: me.

And after the self-eval, have I proven myself to the powers that be?

And beyond that, to the entire point of an annual review: What can I take from all I have learned and how can I apply it to making me better?

I wish I could pull that band aid off right now. But ah las, maybe it’s best to leave it on a little while longer and let things fall as they may. Good, bad, indifferent.

Today, I learned a something I can’t believe nobody told me before.

I cover 26 public school corporations. (That’s what they call districts in Indiana.) There’s about 40,000 students among them. But while I do cover all those districts, I tend to stick mostly to the three districts in this county (admittedly, they account for more than half of the student population). So, I don’t get out to the “region” districts very frequently. Consequently, my contacts there are, shall we say, lacking.

When stories pop up that require me to find “real people” from those areas (i.e. impact sources, which we are all but mandated to include in EVERYTHING), it’s not always easy. Here, I usually know parent council members or a parent or two at the school or at least the principal well enough that he or she can help point me in the right direction, or I can always stop by a school at dismissal to grab someone. But, at schools an hour or more away from here, especially on stacked days like today where long-shot phone trees don’t work, this isn’t really an option. I struggle with it.

Last Friday, one of the five stories I wrote (Fridays are always my busiest day) was about a consolidation study being conducted in one of the counties. I talked to the people actually involved, and I talked to the group chosen to do the study (which will begin next year). I made a feeble attempt to find a “real person” through a contact or two, but by 7:30 p.m. after starting around 9 a.m., I ran out of time and motivation. My story was solid except impact sources.

My editor had the reporter on Saturday, who had a lighter schedule than typical, make some calls and write into my story with parents. Whatever. He easily found three parents. I reasoned that he’s older, wiser and better connected than I am (having worked at the paper almost 30 years, all of those are true statements), so it was easier for him to make those calls and find those people.

Turns out, I could have found them just as easily. I just didn’t know where to look.

Today, a state report was released that recommends schools do basically exactly what the study I wrote about is considering. I got pegged, rightly, to do a schools reaction piece to complement the news of the report.

I needed “real people” to comment, and though often I find myself grasping at straws for the usefulness of those sources in stories, this was one instance where there was no question that was a needed voice. But how to find them?

I mentioned to my editor I had the local professor who advised the commission and school officials, but I needed some parents. He made the off comment that the way the reporter found people on Saturday was looking for unique names on honor rolls and finding it in the phone book.

My reaction: “OMG are you serious?! Why didn’t I think of that?” That was non-verbal of course, because I felt like an idiot for not having thought of that before. Genius.

I mean, we run honor rolls for 26 school corporations, dozens of schools, etc. on the Communities page. We archive them all. Many have hundreds of names of students. Names that are tied to parents, who therefore obviously have a vested interest in the schools, who therefore might have something intelligent to say about the schools when topics requiring that opinion arise.

So this afternoon, it took a few attempts to call someone who answered. But all told, it took less than 15 minutes to find a “real person” who rounded out tomorrow’s story well. Way less effort was needed than I’d usually have to give. Duh!

It was “ding, ding, ding” in my brain. I can’t believe it’s been almost a year and nobody ever gave me this advice tip before.

I’m sure there are other old-hat tricks that nobody has thought to share with the rookie, but man, this just makes so much sense I really was dumb founded I didn’t think of it myself. So, anyone reading this with their own brilliant reporting tips, by all means, share the wealth.

Today I think was the first time I really knew my education reporting here had made an impact. Not just in an, “I appreciated your story,” or “You did a nice job covering that issue,” or even “Thank you for bringing X to light, too many people don’t know about it,” way. No, it made an institutional difference. And yet, when the man I was talking to told me, he apologized thinking I wouldn’t want to hear.

I’m working on a story about parental involvement in one local school corporation. This year they have made this a huge priority. I keep hearing it, left, right, center. Parents, principals, etc. They’re even paying to send teams from three of the schools to a parent leadership academy to develop more parent-focused programs for the schools. In short, the district is making, if not strides, an honest to God effort, and the teams are getting ready to begin implementing what they’ve been studying/planning this coming semester.

Insert me. I’m following up on this academy group. I talked to a few administrators, a counselor and a few parents. Another parent called me back tonight. I asked him how he got involved and why. His reply?

“You probably don’t want to hear this, but honestly it was all the bad press (the school) and (the school district) were getting in the J&C. I kept reading it and thought it was giving a bad impression about the schools. So I wanted to get more people involved. So I approached (the superintendent) and asked what I could do. …”

I could have chosen to take it the way I take many complaints about how negative the paper is regarding that school. I could point to the dozens of stories I alone have written this year about positive things happening there. I could point to the stories that are perceived as negative and, at the least, show they are balanced and fair. I could tell him, I can’t control the news that comes out of the school — if you have low graduation rates or high incidence of violence, you should be held accountable.

But I didn’t.

Instead, it dawned on me this man, having gotten sick of reading about negative things in the schools, took it upon himself to improve the schools. And the district has joined him to devote significant resources (that parent academy isn’t cheap, to say nothing of the cost of staff time to implement the programs they’re developing) to see its students have a better chance at success.

Holy crap, I thought. In a roundabout way, I did that. It feels good to make an impact, even if it’s not in the way I intended.