My Life as a Journalist: Part 7 — All Good Things Must End
During my four years working at The Battalion, I was given the chance to learn that there was more to Mr. George then his frequent bouts of shouting.
The Battalion basement office was, without a doubt, my home during my time at Texas A&M.
An emotional man to be sure, the paper’s advisor loved his job and it showed through every aspect of life in the Battcave. From the meticulous job he did every day with his Batt-rant e-mails (and later Batt-rant blog) to his style of coaching through trial and error, Mr. George nurtured one of the most creative environments I have ever had the joy to be a part of.
Even with his long history as a journalist up his sleeve, Mr. George knew that the best way to teach student journalism was to let us fail on our own. He gave us the opportunities to make our own choices, suffer our own mistakes — and, of course, he was there in the end to show us exactly where we could improve.
Instead of rolling up his sleeves and doing our jobs for us, Mr. George gave us the tools and resources to maximize our potential and make real change with the paper. I know for a fact that under most any other advisor, I would not have been given the chances to experiment and the opportunities to succeed that I had.
Beyond his role as a newspaper advisor, he was also there for us as a friend. I imagine every Batt employee who spent any real time in the Battcave has a story or two to tell about how Mr. George lent some advise, bailed us out of trouble or just shot the shit with us.
After my sophomore year, Mr. George and I began to talk with some seriousness about my future at the paper. It had become obvious by then that my stint as an editor was not just a resume-building fling. My work meant something to me and he was beginning to take notice. We started to discuss the possibility of me applying for editor-in-chief.
The thought of being EIC had always made me nervous. I knew my limitations. Technical editing was never my strong suit and I had trouble saying no to controversy. He saw the potential for me to rise above these weaknesses though and become a great editor. Through his pep talks, I began to see those possibilities too. I also began to see the assets I could bring to the paper. I wanted to do it.
And so, after my third semester as Aggielife editor, I turned in my application to be EIC. Mr. George worked with me to prepare for the interview, hone my technical skills and scale back my impulse to court trouble. In the end, though, I let him down.
As I started off this series writing, The Battalion was my life during college. The paper came before everything else — including grades. By spending so much of my time in the Battcave, I had forsaken my actual classes and my grades showed this to be true. I did not have the GPA required to become editor-in-chief.
I felt as small and worthless as a mound of bat(t) droppings when I asked Mr. George to remove my application from consideration. What hurt me more then anything else, though, was the fact that he seemed genuinely sorry that he might have had a role in my low grades. He was afraid that the paper, and by proxy he, had been the sole cause for my low GPA. More then I regret not having the chance to be EIC, I regret making Mr. George feel that kind of shame.
As all good things must pass, Mr. George left Texas A&M my senior year — the year things at The Batt began to go sour.
To be continued…
