Team Building & Leadership

I’m so lucky that I’ve met some of my favorite people through The Lion’s Roar. I met my best friend by writing one of my first articles with her. 

Past editors have become mentors and close friends without whom I wouldn’t be the same. I hope I can be that type of person for younger editors now. 

This year, I’ve tried to start: I’ve written a couple recommendation letters for some, helped others find and apply to journalism internships.

Bar all else, I’m proud of the community we’ve fostered in room 1201, The Roar’s home base. 

With mid-paste-up push contests and karaoke breaks, we’ve proven that you don’t need to take yourself too seriously to do seriously good work. 

Our bond only grows at NSPA, all 25 of us on staff piling into one hotel room to ask and answer increasingly personal questions. Tears have been shed — from laughter and from emotion. 

In my first volumes on the paper, I remember past editors making me feel so welcome and appreciated, and I’ve tried to emulate their attitude in the two volumes I’ve led. 

Early on, I set myself the goal of talking to every person that comes to one of our all-welcome meetings. Some meetings, room 1201 is bursting at the seams, so meeting my goal is difficult in just 40 minutes, but for the most part, I’ve succeeded. 

For staff, I’ve continued the traditions of media day and of writing personal thank-you notes in the last issue of each volume, and I’ve brought back the tradition of bestowing a superlative-laden newspaper hat upon each person that we brought to NSPA.

Let me set the scene. We’re in 1201. I can barely hear yourself think over the roar (pun intended) of excited reporters and editors. We’ve got a packed agenda, so I’ve got to get things started.

“HEY EVERYBODY!” I yell. My voice cracks. How embarrassing.

“Thanks for coming! Let’s get things started. As I said in the email I sent to you all, today we’ll be critiquing the last issue and brainstorming article ideas for the next one.”

Now quiet, forty or so expectant faces stare at me.

“To get started, what do we think about the cover? Likes, dislikes?”

Silence. I suddenly empathize a whole lot with my teachers. Someone gets up, but only to grab another couple of the cookies/bait I brought.

“Come on, guys, you’re killing me here. Anyone? Anything?” Maybe I’ll get someone to speak up through pity.

“Okay, I’ll start.” Lead by example, right?  “I absolutely love our cover graphic — shout out AJ! — but I think we could’ve tightened up that subhead a hair more.” 

Someone finally speaks, and participation snowballs from there. Phew.

Leadership as a whole is hard. In parts, it’s easy. Bring in food? Easy. Design merch? On it. Send out emails? Piece of cake. Clean up after meetings? Annoying but doable. Running meetings? Now, that can be awkward and difficult, but I’ve gotten better. 

It’s all about problem-solving. Trouble with your co-writer? Let’s talk it out. Missing graphic? We’ll make a placeholder and reach out to an artist. No available camera? I’ll bring you mine tomorrow.