The Devil's in the Details

One thought kept occurring to me throughout this semester: Wouldn’t it be great if shells weren’t part of Advanced Reporting, but a class unto themselves?

Fortunately, my capstone is, from my understanding, exactly what I just described. To me, the fundamental problem with shells was that they were an extremely worthwhile project capable of teaching us oodles...but not a lot of us wanted to give them the kind of attention they (should have) demanded.

Shells are an awesome project. Stimulating. A chance to build some reporter muscles we too often neglect — innovation, big ideas, etc.

Why, then, do I think the shells assignment didn’t go too well — or, at least, why didn’t I like them as much as I know I could have?

I see three major reasons: time, ownership, and communication.

Time:
With our hectic schedules and the already demanding nature of Advanced Reporting, I think we needed a more definitive understanding of how we were expected to split our time. Too many of the kids in our class have Super(wo)man personalities. They try to do it all. And when “all” is too much…well, frankly, it’s hard not to self-destruct.

For me, I enrolled in Advanced Reporting assuming the dynamic would be pretty similar to Reporting: working with an editor on a specific beat. Had I known before I wrote out my goals for the semester that shells would be such a big chunk of the class, I could have mentally prepared for them. If shells continue to be a part of the Advanced Reporting curriculum, I recommend giving reporters a specific list of expectations so they have a firm grip on where to direct their time and energy.

Ownership:
If the Advanced Reporting class does this again, I recommend letting them pick their groups and their topics from the very beginning. If I’m going to spend a semester with a group immersed in one topic, I want that group to feel like it owns the topic. Just like any story, a shell is going to inspire reporters if they feel like they’ve invested a part of themselves in it.

I didn’t feel like I “chose” Growth. (Ironically, I think I pitched the idea in the initial brainstorming session. Go figure.) I couldn’t make it to the session when we whittled away the potential topics because we held it on a Friday afternoon, I believe, and I had to work. My original group got thrown in with another group halfway through the semester. (I firmly maintain that my original group had, by far, made the most progress.) I still did my part, but by then, I didn’t feel very invested in the shell. I hadn’t bought into it; I had no ownership.

Communication:
Shell groups can’t be as big as Growth was. With that many people in one group, it’s too hard to keep track of everyone, and it exacerbates the ownership problem. Over-delegation leads to feeling disconnected from the goal. In this case (though I don’t want to speak for everyone), I don’t know if many of us felt like we ever completely understood what was going on with our own projects.

I propose setting a cap for team size at somewhere around 6 people, including a designer. If that means the topics groups tackle are a little more intimate than the ones we covered this semester, I’m okay with that. I’d rather see a team with less manpower and more communication than one with an assembly line feel. The fewer people there are, the easier it is to keep everyone on the same page.



I hope none of this sounded bitter. I’ll admit I’m still a little sulky over Public Safety’s disbandment, but I’m over it for practical purposes. And I really do love the idea of shells. I just think that as guinea pigs, our class definitely revealed a number of ways this project can be improved so that the Missourian can pursue shells in future semesters with fewer headaches and more victory dances.