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CSPA is affiliated with the Graduate School of Journalism at Columbia University in the City of New York.

The following speech was written and presented by Jim McGonnell, newspaper and broadcast adviser at Findlay High School, Findlay, OH during a luncheon at Columbia University in the City of New York on March 20, 2008. Mr. McGonnell is also the 2007 Dow Jones Newspaper Teacher of the Year.

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I would like to thank the Dow Jones Newspaper Fund for selecting me for this award and to Ed Sullivan and the CSPA staff for giving me the opportunity to speak today. 

To my family who has to suffer when things aren’t going so smoothly, especially my wife who a number of times has kept me from getting fired when she “tones” down my letters to the administration over various issues. I love them very much and thank them for their support.

Finally, I would like to thank Nabil Shaneen, one of my most colorful and dedicated ex-editors, Jack Kennedy, Renee Burke, and the Bowens all good friends and respected colleagues for their kind words in their letters of recommendation. Also that very friendly women on the corner of Lexington and 26th St.

This truly is a great honor for me. To look out from this podium and into the faces of people I have admired and looked up to since I started teaching and advising newspapers and to just be in the same room with many of you I now call my friends, is humbling yet heart warming.

I almost didn’t reapply for this award this year, many said it was to soon, wait a few years, but I thought I don’t know how many more years I have left, so why not.

I asked if I should give the same speech, everyone told me yes and when Allan gave me the green light I felt good. I am sorry if you were in Philly but there are some differences.

So my friends here we go.

Near the middle of my 30th year of advising and teaching, I began hearing voices in my head. Now getting older has not been that tough, but I did think this was strange. At first it was just mumbling, a low “dadadadadada” then as the months went on, the voice became clearer, more defined.

Now I must admit my wife is a reality TV junky, and to make her feel better and spend quality time together, we watch all of them, American Idol, Amazing Race, Project Runway, and of course, Survivor.

So I was not surprised when I started to recognize the one voice in my left ear.
In the right ear, I had heard a low humming, it was catchy but again nothing recognizable.

When it was finally June and the rat race to get everything done by the end of the year subsided, sitting in my office I could now hear him, clear as could be.

“Get your torch, it’s time to go,” I could not figure out why Jeff Probst was telling me to extinguish my flame, it was time to leave.

Just as I was about to tell him I really was not ready to go yet, in my right ear I finally recognized the familiar sound of my disco days, Gloria Gainer was singing louder than ever. “OH NO, You will survive, don’t you walk out that door, you’re not leaving this behind, HEY HEY.” Now she did alter the lyrics for me somewhat, but the two messages were clear.

Thus the dilemma, Probst was telling me it is time, the 30 years on this education island has been a great ride but enough is enough. I must admit, it was tempting but I declined.

As I sat there considering my future, I came up with 5 reasons to continue teaching and advising and why high school journalism programs, newspapers, broadcasts, and now video yearbook are my life.

Here are my top 5 reasons to stay.


Number 5: Money
It would be a huge loss of income if I retired at 30 years. Teacher retirement in Ohio at 35 years is a good thing. I have a daughter in college and a freshman in high school, who is in my journalism program and she could often be heard chanting in her bedroom, “four more years, four more years" and she was not taking about George Bush. She just wants to go on the trips, I am not that naive.


Number 4: Fun
I am still having fun and I like the fast pace of today’s youth. Why would I want to give up the late night sessions, where we finish final layouts and put the paper to bed?

Making cappuccino runs to Speedway, celebrating holidays, and late night laughter are highlights.

Definitely one thing we all look forward to are our annual trips to some of the most beautiful cities in America. Breathtaking moments of standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon at sunrise, touring the Washington, DC monuments at night, and doing time on the Rock in Alcatraz in San Francisco were unforgettable.

And of course coming to this great city, seeing a Broadway show every night, getting stars’ autographs after those shows, standing in Times Square doing a 360 spin with students that may never get out of Findlay, Ohio, again or having a once in a lifetime dinner atop the World Trade Center at dusk are just a few awesome memories I’ve had as a high school journalism teacher.


Number 3: I still love my job…a lot
Okay some days the paper work, red tape, administrators, parents, fellow teachers and even some students make it not so fun.  But I love my kids and how each month through the drama of high school, they turn into these work alcoholic and responsible journalists that publish a decent paper every month, and in turn make a difference at Findlay High School.

One thing I love about teaching media classes they are always changing and fast paced, rarely are 2 days the same. With that being said, journalism teachers need to keep up with change. Our curriculum must provide the skills and principles so our students are well aware of what is happening  “now” with both media and technology.

Whatever the medium - print, radio, television, or Internet - if news organizations are to be trusted they must prove themselves scrupulous in their insistence upon accuracy and their dedication to fairness.

Our students need to be taught how to be responsible, professional and fair. Growing up with Channel One, many view the Anderson Cooper’s and Lisa Ling’s more so than the Peter Jennings and Tom Brokaws as cream of the journalism crop.  They are the new wave of journalism, and I guess that is not all bad, when you consider there aren’t many models for them to follow.

The Stephen Glass’s, Jason Blair’s and even the Toledo Blade photographer who altered pictures of the Bluffton University in Ohio baseball team’s field after their bus crashed in Atlanta, have tarnished our profession.

Student journalists must be taught how to balance their rights with responsibility. Readers trust them to be honest, fair and accurate, especially with controversial school issues. They truly may be the only voice students in our schools have left.

Our student body wants our student journalists to ruffle some feathers, fight for their rights and find out the truth, even if our administrators don’t like that. But with that goes responsibility, to look at both sides, weigh the issues, then write responsibly what they have found, and not just be faultfinding whiners.


Number 2: All of you
I would miss friends and colleagues. Ones that continue to make a huge difference in my life. Ones that everyday when I walk into my classroom, you’re with me, not physically of course, but I carry the knowledge of what you have taught me over the years.
You make a difference everyday in my classroom.

Does that make sense to you?  Because everyday when I walk into my room, with me comes Homer Hall, Jack Kennedy, Rene Burke, Steve O’Donahue, Dick Johns, Nick Ferentinos, Aaron Manful and, so many more.
It gets crowded up there, but because of your wisdom, guidance, knowledge, compassion, humor, sarcasm, and willingness to share I stand here today as one of the lucky ones to be honored by the Newspaper Fund.

I really am pretty lucky, but actually my kids are the lucky ones. They get the experience and knowledge when all of us are standing in front of my classroom and trust me, it gets more and more crowded as more people come in my life and make a difference.

That learning base expands in the summer also. While some see teaching summer workshops as a job, for me, it is professional growth, but I also enjoy spending time with friends. From Florida’s tropical Camp Orlando to Betsy’s sweatshop at Michigan State and the camaraderie of teaching with such a strong staff at Ball State, renews my spirit for the upcoming school year.

And in January I was invited to join the board of the newly formed Center for Scholastic Journalism located at Kent State. We had our first meeting at Poytner in January and what an outstanding group of people that is to brainstorm and work with.

I’m proud to be a journalism teacher and be a part of such a dedicated group of people that care and give so willingly to their students.


Number 1: I still make a difference
English Novelist Charles Kingsley once said, “Never, if possible, lie down at night without being able to say: I have made one human being, at least, a little wiser, a little happier, or a little better this day.

Our publication offices, studios and newsrooms are safe havens for kids who may not feel the love at home or in the hallways, who get dragged down by the high pressure testing our state legislators have turned our schools into.

All states have standardized tests; some can stop our students from walking at graduation and receiving their diplomas. We reward kids for a sameness or oneness in thought. We want everyone to bubble in the right answer, so our schools receive good ratings. But my goal goes beyond good ratings.

We all encourage our students’ individualism; we want to nurture good responsible journalists.

We are creating many of our country’s future leaders; ones that can problem solve, multitask, communicate, and think critically. Ones that will make their own difference in peoples’ lives time and time again.

We preach individual convergence stressing the importance of being a well-rounded person. That lesson is reinforced in our journalism classes, we converge our media so we teach kids how to produce stories for print, broadcasts and now the web. We always encourage our students to brainstorm different paths of thinking in editorials, columns and coverage.

Because we make a difference everyday, so do our kids and even better, they want too make an impact. It becomes contagious and spreads.

They tell stories about others.

Who knew a story we did on a homeless boy in St. Louis, MO at a national convention, would be identical to one of our new students sitting in a basic English class or a student’s story of struggling with weight during wrestling season is the same as a girl’s in a Communications class, and hers is an everyday battle.

Or a news story on Relay for Life is really the same story about a boy’s mom who had been in and out of chemotherapy and just died four weeks ago.

My students ask, “Have I done enough, will my story make a difference in someone’s life?” Throughout my career, I have had some amazing kids that have left a lasting impression on me as well. Since being named teacher of the year, I am realizing more and more I have done the same. Some years it is hard to see if you left any type of impact on students.

I have been invited to several class reunions, received numerous congratulatory phone calls, notes, messages, and visits. It has been overwhelming, surprising and very endearing.

One student I heard from was a photographer who was one of the most timid kids I ever met. He was also one of my wrestlers, and I needed him to develop some more aggressive traits. When I put a camera in his hand, at first he did not want to step out and be seen, but when I brought him here, to New York City in 1984 to the Olympic ticker-tape parade that all changed.

I told him to go on his own and find great “moments” to shoot. Once he left us, we did not see him for a couple hours. Then in the middle of the Olympic parade walking down Broadway beside gymnast Mary Lou Retton, there he was waving as if he had just won a gold medal.

On the plane ride home he would not shut up, he told story after story about his day and about scaffolding that collapsed on top of the crowd. He climbed in an ambulance and took pictures of injured parade watchers until he was thrown out and threatened to be arrested. I had created a monster.

About five years ago one of my editors that went to Kansas State emailed and called me telling me we needed to talk, and fast. I considered a road trip to Manhattan, but with the holidays near he said it could wait until he got home.

When he came to the house and we finally talked, he was wringing his hands and sweat was forming on his brow, he finally said, “I’m changing my major.”

This guy wanted to be my first “real” journalist, a newspaper reporter for a big paper and make me proud. Of course I acted disappointed and had to play along. The next words out of his mouth are what made me know I made a difference in his life. He looked up at me with tears in his eyes and told me, “I want to be a journalism teacher, and I want to do for people what you have done for me.”

Rarely am I speechless, but this statement filled my heart with so much warmth and the fact I was choked up, I couldn’t respond. It was at that awkward moment of silence he realized that the career change was really OK. The only thing I could say after thank you was, “You will be a great teacher,”

And folks here are the words of wisdom I gave him. “But you know, you’re going to be poor.” Now wasn’t that inspirational? His comment was “But you’re not poor,” and I said, “I am married to a principal.”

He was so right though, I am not poor, the thousands of kids I have come in contact with and friendships made, I would never find in any other occupation. This doesn’t always happen for all teachers, those that race the kids to the parking lot at the end of the school day and never get to spend extra time outside a class period, are really missing out on the riches of our profession.

I also found how a teacher’s openness and compassion could make a difference outside the classroom too. Even in a place that is 900 miles away. Many of you may not know that I am a New York City junkie, I love this city and I have been here close to 90 times.

On September 11, 2001, at about 9:55 my wife called and told me to turn on my classroom TV. I was devastated by what I saw, as I watched with tears streaming down my face, actually watching the events all week was difficult. Then on Friday during an interview on "Good Morning America," watching Howard Lutnick tell of the loss of his entire company, 658 of his staff, including his brother on the 101-105th floors of the north tower of the World Trade Center, it came to me.

I called my wife and told her that on Saturday, I was driving to New York, we played the “no you’re not”, “yes I am game” but to make a long story short on September 15th at 6am I left. I had to go, I had to do something to try and help, but really to see it for myself.

Many thought it was the journalist wannabe in me, but it wasn’t that, someone had changed the world, as we knew it forever, in the city I love and I had to try and make a difference. Driving across the George Washington Bridge it all became real. Looking down the Hudson River, the smoke still rising, I realized it was true, not a dream.

The hotel I usually stay at on 8th Ave. was right next door to one of the fire stations that lost 16 men. Flowers, notes, and people poured onto the sidewalk. After talking to some of the firemen that remembered me, I headed down town to help, to do something.

The sadness and sense of loss was numbing and yet by the end of my second day inspiring. New Yorkers are are resilient people and these days more kind and helpful.

Now back to the lady on the corner of Lexington and 26th St.  One area had memorials for their missing or presumed dead loved ones. On fences, window sills, even phone booths and a number of people walking around with pictures in hands asking if anyone had seen them, missing children, parents, grandparents. As I sat on the curb face in hands crying, an older lady came up to me and asked if I was ok? And whom I had lost in the towers?

Embarrassingly I said, "No one." It was just the sense of loss all around me was more than I could handle, she touched my shoulder, sat down beside me and said look at these pictures of my granddaughter, she was on the 100th floor of the north tower. I know she is gone, but I need to keep hope in looking for her. 

We chatted about 15 minutes and in that short time we actually helped each other. I helped her by just listening and letting her talk about her granddaughter. I found such strength in this woman, she touched me deeply.

I cry a lot more these days at really dumb moments, like when people are voted off reality shows, Extreme Home Make Over, I am a mess, and even chick flicks, it is kind of embarrassing, but that woman has had a lasting affect on me.

Just like us with our students

I am blessed, even though we have made a difference in their lives, my students have given back to me 10-fold and certainly made me a better teacher, adviser, father, and person.

Joy J. Golliver once wrote, “The meaning of life is finding your gift; the purpose of life is giving it away.”

Thanks to all of you for sharing your gifts and this very special honor I have been given.

Good luck and have a great second half to your year.