Jamie Jones: Having a Career Day

Having a Career Day

The Varnell Elementary School students came as baseball players, dancers, doctors, lawyers, firemen, singers, soccer stars, teachers and even — GASP! — politicians.

Not a single child was dressed as a newspaper reporter.

Can’t say I was shocked.

For starters, today’s newspaper reporter attire is nondescript.

The most romanticized newspaper employees in most kids’ eyes are Peter Parker and Jimmy Olsen.

And at the students’ age, my career aspiration was to be a professional football player. If that fell through, I would work at Sears. Not Belk. Not JC Penney. Sears.

Through my years as a professional journalist, I’ve spoken about the world of newspapers to classes across all grade levels at several Career Days throughout Whitfield County.

I look forward to every opportunity to speak to youngsters about journalism — despite most Career Days beginning at 8 a.m. For the future of the industry, we have to keep young people interested in journalism, encourage them to study the profession, then write for newspapers, magazines, websites, blogs, television, radio and other media outlets. Plus, most schools have tasty spreads in their hospitality rooms (little known fact: reporters love Chick-fil-A chicken biscuits).

Being a newspaper reporter isn’t sexy.

Police officers have guns. And pepper spray. And bulletproof vests. And handcuffs.

Firefighters have ladder trucks. And fire hoses. And axes. And breathing apparatuses.

We have a pen. And a notepad.

The day I was giving my rehearsed spiel about journalism to a disinterested class and heard the professional musician on guitar wowing the class next door with Justin Bieber’s “Baby,” I realized I needed a crafty way to hook my audience.

Now, the first few questions I ask the children are, “Who could be a doctor right now? Who could be a police officer right now? Who could be a teacher right now?”

Of course, they all answer no. Except for the wise guy on the back row who swears he can perform brain surgery.

This leads to me telling the kids, “You can’t be a doctor, cop or teacher today. But every single one of you can be a journalist right now.”

Then, I wait for the “oohs” and “ahhs” to subside.

After the half second has passed, I ask for two volunteers: a reporter and an interviewee.

I hand the newly anointed reporter my handy digital voice recorder and turn him or her loose with the simple directive: “Interview your classmate about what he wants to be when he grows up.”

The results vary widely. Some kids are shy. They’ll blush, then say a few words. Other children jump into full-out interrogation mode.

To make things extra interesting, I let the kids ask the professional newspaper reporter questions.

When dealing with kids from ages 5 to 18, you come to expect anything. Some kids are enthusiastic about writing. Others are preoccupied with reading the comics in the newspaper you handed out. Then there are children who are staring out the window at the big, red fire engine the other kids are admiring.

Here’s a sampling of their questions and my responses:

Kid: “Did you have to go to college to be a reporter?”

Me: “No, but it helps and keeps you from having to grow up for four or eight more years.”

Kid: “Are you one of the good guys or the bad guys?”

Me: “Depends on who you ask.”

Kid: “Have you ever interviewed the president?”

Me: No, but I have interviewed the mayor of Varnell.” (Sorry Dan, the kids weren’t impressed.)

Kid: “How much money do you make?”

Me: “Not as much as your teacher.”

Kid: “Are you married?”

The teacher usually interrupts with, “It’s not nice to ask such personal questions.”

Kid: “My brother was in the newspaper once.”

Me: “Well, that’s not a question, but thanks for letting me know.”

Kid: “Can I touch your beard?”

Me: “Ummmmm ...”

When my facial hair was in the Forrest Gump-running-across-the-country stage, one brave student — Ashley — asked to touch my beard. Taken aback, I asked the teacher if that was legal. She shrugged her shoulders. I shrugged my shoulders back and gave Ashley the OK.

Ashley even wrote a sweet note, which I keep in my desk drawer and read to lift my spirits whenever someone calls into the Forum and bashes me.

“Dear Mr. Jones. Thank you for telling us about news reporters. Thank you for letting me touch your beard. Sincerely, Ashley”

Thank you, Ashley, for listening to me talk about news reporters.

There’s a future for you in this business.

You aren’t afraid to ask the hard questions.

Dalton native Jamie Jones is co-city editor of The Daily Citizen.

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