Call me McFly, because I’m a time traveler.
I can remember so clearly being in Nexus writers’ training four years ago. I can remember sitting in a classroom on the second floor of Girvetz and only going because Tiffany wanted someone to go with her. And I remember Ted and doing this lame exercise where we tested out lede and nut-writing abilities by faking the intro to a news story about the training session.
And then somehow four years of time melted into nothing. I’m standing in front of a class of would-be Nexites and talking about how great the paper is and the fundamentals of news style and how to make your editor not hate you. And I gave them that same lame-ass writing exercise. “Pretend you’re writing a story about this very training session. Write a lede that would grab a reader and a nut graph with all the relevant information.”
I honestly wishes I had gotten a normal room — like just a rectangle with chairs. The lady who doles out room assignments for such events stuck us in a mini-lecture hall for both nights. My worst nightmare: being a teacher. I like teachers now, I guess, but I spent so much of my adolescent life viewing educators as my moral adversary that being in that position. being the guy wearing a collared shirt and glasses at the front of the lecture hall was just too surreal.
The first night: I turned red and talked too fast. In fact, I powered through what was supposed to be two hours of info in one.
The second night: I didn’t freak out. Things went better. It was more conversational.
I hoped I impressed on the kids I taught that I want to help them. For better or worse, the Nexus has worked out well for me and I’m glad I was a part of it. I honestly believe in that paper and I think those writers deserve every chance to have as good an experience as I did.
If just one of those kids ends up working longterm or even semi-longterm for the Nexus, I’ll be happy.