Per usual, it’s around one o’clock and the newsroom is sluggish. Walking onto campus last Monday, still excited from dropping off some film for development at Dotdotsons, I took a brisk walk down the asphalt and concrete pathways into the basement of the Center Building. Passing, and almost running into one of the patrons of the clothing outlet near the restrooms, I quickly bade my apologies, stepped headlong down the hallway, and trod into The Torch’s newsroom.

Dusty, cluttered, and most assuredly worn, the newsroom always feels like a step into another time. Sparing the seven-year-old Macintosh’s, the feeling of many up and coming reporters, photojournalists, designers, and editors from years past excites the old spark of glory days. That is , until you take a seat in one of the dusty chairs.

Moving past Andre, our editor-in-chief and boss, I glanced over to see him munching on a burrito as he tapped on his laptop and chatted with Zach, our layout manager. Thinking nothing of the conversation, I made my way to the rear desks. Depositing my backpack, lunchbox, and camera bag, I casually grabbed my own laptop and returned to the two. Taking my seat at the head of a faded red couch, I caught the drift of homework as their main topic of discussion. Boisterous as usual, Andre explained how he couldn’t decide on which designer to pick for his movie monster poster project. He had an idea of what he wanted, yet he wasn’t sure of his choice.

By now, as I worked on cut-lines and searched for information, my usual eavesdropping had caught Zach at a loss for designers. He kept noting “blocky text” and with a quick lap through my mind, I remembered Saul Bass. “You mean Saul Bass?” I blurted out. “Yeah,” he responded. They continued on like this until I once again interrupted.

“So how was the trip?” I asked, referring to the convention that Andre, Zack, and about four other members of the Torch took to L.A.

“We won best in show,” Andre responded.

“What does that mean?” I asked. “Like overall, or…”

“We won Best in Show for a two-year college,” he explained, referring to the paper that we publish weekly.

“Where’s the paper that won?” Zach asked. “And do we have any papers from the other schools that entered?”

“No,” Andre replied smugly, “We have all of them.” Retreating to his office, and then returning with a black tote bag, he then proceeded to dump all of the contesting newspapers onto the table for us to have a look at them. It was about this time that our photo editor, Kira, our faculty adviser, Dorothy, and copy chief, Keasey had entered my mind. They were probably there beforehand, but as one who usually gets lost in the tasks at hand, when I had ditched my laptop for a newspaper, I saw that they had all gathered to see their fellow competition’s work.

It was a blast seeing what other people had done and being able to smartly state that we were the best at something. I mean, sure, the Torch has had it’s ups and downs, and tonight wouldn’t be any different. But it felt good to know that we (well, minus me and the multimedia crew, Johnny and Gina) had created something worth awarding.

But what does this have to do with professional practice? Nothing really, it’s really just a long winded setup, with some bragging, and a way to quietly tick away the word count while hopefully entertaining and informing you. I’m an anecdotal writer, so sue me! Anyways, the professional practices bit didn’t come until later. So, as I was saying…

We all enjoyed the magazines while we waited for the others to show up. Andre had his managerial meeting while I snacked on trail mix and worked on… well, let’s pretend I was working. Waiting in line for the assignment meetings can get loathsome at best, especially when you are the only one there on the lower staff. Showing up early does not win you any badges in this bunch. But it does get your work done in one of the most laid back atmospheres I have ever had the pleasure to work in.

Continuing on, John (a photojournalist, and one who can write) and Charlie (our other academic advisor) arrived in their usual flair: John with a “hello” and Charlie with a flamboyant “Congratulations on the win!”. What we would ever get done without John’s reporting and Charlie’s wit I say is a mystery. So the time ticks away and before I know it, three o-clock has splayed itself upon the clock face and what I had shown up for has finally arrived: the assignment meeting.

This is where the preoccupied suddenly meets the professional. This, and the workshops every other Wednesday, are the true events of what anyone who enjoyed their work would consider the actual job portion. The meetings are usually tedious, but highly informative; and provide the groundwork for what makes us better at our jobs everyday. This is about the time when Gina arrived and good old Keasey took his place at the high chair for the beginning of the assignment meeting.

As blunt as using a sledgehammer to chop carrot sticks, the first words to come out of his mouth were: “Pitches (for stories) have been really light this week. It’s a requirement, right? Without pitches, you don’t get paid.” Well, that’s Keasey for you. But it’s that blunt sense of honesty that I most appreciate and what ultimately has led to a great respect for him in the newsroom. It also lends to making his teaching more personal and constructive; something I think all of The Torch team admires.

After his spiel, and his “I love you guys” after realizing how tense the room had become, we all dove into the assignment. Fortunately for us, we get to pick and choose our work. It not only qualifies us in honing our craft, but also gives us more confidence for when we have to step out of our comfort zones. I, naturally, took on sports with Kylee (a new reporter), Kira took on dancing, John went to town on construction, and Gina took on video editing. All in all, pretty light in both turnout (with no reporters showing up to the meeting) and assignments (we pitched as fast as we could think of something). But we got it done.

The assignment meetings, in terms of a professional practice, are ones of tenacity, learning, and the collective good. They promote perseverance by way of a deadline, create an environment of obstacles to hurdle, and in the end, help everyone who is involved not only to produce a paper, yet to better our fellow coworkers as well. It gives us structure at the expense of other classes/life obligations. The downside is that this isn’t a place where your schedule will be as flexible as a regular job. But it is one where your work will be highly valued and your participation is worth more than gold. It’s a difficult balance, and one that I have repeatedly thought of giving up. Day after day, I find it harder to justify because of constantly looming homework assignments. But I always feel that it is a decision that I would regret making.

           (Zach Russell, layout director for The Torch newspaper, plays pirate with a 500mm Japanese-made lens as he and other members rummage through the photo editor’s desk in the basement of the Center Building, Monday. However, designed for a camera, he could not get the resulting image to focus properly. Feb. 22, 2016.)

For instance, just after the meeting, when everyone is usually ready to leave or work on finalizing their projects, John, Zach, Kira, and I began rummaging through the hollow cabinets and creaky shelves in awe of the treasure trove of random multimedia gear. From an expensive Canon L-lens all the way down to a floppy disk with track photographs from 1997, we had a blast foraging.

It’s for those little moments, and so many more, that I would hate to leave it. I know Teresa Hughes or John Meyers, my current teachers, would gladly see it leave my agenda for punctual attendance and more professional assignments. But I think that I’ll stick with it just a little while longer.

And as for The Torch paper that won? It was the MLK edition that made the grade. Who knew that we were that good at making newspapers?