First things first, play me. (It won't open in a new window because I'm lazy, so you should actually finish reading this post before you click that.)

If you haven't been paying attention, I am the daughter of a newspaper editor. I was employed by a newspaper last year as a typesetter, and I was a reporter for the school newspaper. Journalism is in my blood.

This year, the school paper (actually, it's one page in the local paper) is under new staff leadership. Consequently, the journalism students have decided that newspaper is a class, not an activity, and students not in a journalism class are not allowed to be on the Red and White staff.

This makes me livid.

Issue #1 came out 2 weeks ago the day after coronation. I didn't read the whole thing. When I read the first story and noted that they named the wrong guy as Homecoming king, I couldn't bear to look at the rest. For God's sake, it's the school paper, it's the day after coronation: they've got nothing else to freaking write. They got the most basic fact in their biggest story completely wrong.

Jayson Blair is giggling like a schoolgirl right now.

I picked up issue #2 after an anonymous tip today. Dear God, it actually gets worse.

First off, I would like to note the headlines: "Victorious Homecoming," "John Quincy Public" (actually, it's the name of the boy who is this week's senior feature), "Homecoming Survey," and the only decent one, "Olson Attends YEA Camp." Inspired, aren't they?

We'll attack the only story that passed the Headline Test first. Exactly one paragraph long, it quickly flunks the Good Journalism Test once one notes that Olson is referred to by only his first name throughout the article; any reporter knows to use the last name only. This may be a small town, but if you're not in the chicken dinner news section, you shouldn't write with such a familiar tone. (For anyone who's wondering, "chicken dinner news" is what I call the section that has about 15 different paragraphs, each reading along the lines of, "So-and-so's daughter, now residing in California, visited him last Saturday." Nope, not kidding--in a small town, people call in their own "news," and the little old ladies get pissy if you don't publish it.)

Now, let's give the Olson article the six question runover.
What? Youth Engineering Adventure Camp.
Where? South Dakota State University.
Who? Olson, a junior at AHS.
Why? Olson has a strong interest in mechanics and engineering.
How? Olson "applied and was one of the twenty selected out of South Dakota's youth." [NOTE: Ask any grammar buff--a good journalist only writes out "twenty" if it begins the sentence.]

You may notice that something is missing. When did Olson attend the camp? Good question. The article doesn't say. Seems like a bit of an oversight, eh? Not if you have Olson in your study hall, as this little critic does. He's quick to admit, "I don't get why it's in there. That was in June." In other words, it ain't news, honey. Perhaps it's just me, but when your paper consists of four articles, you can't afford to be using filler the second week of publication.

Another big flaw in the Olson story is this: Olson had to "design a project with a group." That "group" accomplished a "task" and explained its "design." (I should note that the original article actually has the group explaining "their" design; pronouns, people.) Hm...could you vague that up for me?

Now, article #2: "Homecoming Survey." For this, 10 students were interviewed and asked what their favorite parts of homecoming were. Do we use direct quotations? Yup. Do we know enough to use quote marks to indicate those quotations? Nope. That would be too easy.

Article #3 is "Victorious Homecoming," and...gah. I can't even begin. With lines like "The cheerleaders also got the crowd ready for the game by doing a pep fest followed by the drum line, band, and flag twirlers," I don't even know how many [sic]'s to include. I could say six or seven things about that line alone: cheerleaders don't "do" a pep fest, "drumline" is one word, "flag twirlers" should be referred to as "flagettes" or a "color guard," etc. All the commas in the world couldn't save that sentence. Believe me, the rest of the article isn't any better.

Last, we have the senior feature. I'll give this one credit. As a journalist, the author of this piece shows some promise. The reporter is a sophomore, and with a little practice, he'll be a decent writer. This article is a mess, though; I don't have the heart to tear it to pieces. I will, however, note that the ending ("Chances are, John will never be without a friend") positively smacks of the new journalism teacher's fondness for saccharine.

Don't get me started on the photos. You should never have 11 two-inch photos on one page. Need I say more?

All in all, I managed to compile a list of 97 grievances. Ninety-seven basic errors in grammar, layout, photography, spelling, and reporting on one page.

Methinks an underground newspaper is in the works for AHS. I know quite a few students who were on the staff last year and can't be this year, so I have a feeling that the high school will be feeling the gentle wrath of a few dissatisfied reporters. A girl in my class is an excellent photographer with a big ego, and she'd jump at the chance to be our official photographer.

I think I could do it. I think I could start an alternative periodical for AHS. If the journalism class wants to kick us off the playground, we'll build a bigger and better one for ourselves.

Two weeks and 97 grievances later, I have a plan.