Beyond the ‘sidelines’

Sometimes life throws us more than a curve ball. We find ourselves navigating an unknown path, traveling in a direction we never envisioned to be heading.

It can be frightening, exciting, for the good or even bad. It can be life altering.

That happened to me in high school. I graduated from Montgomery County High School in 1999. If you are good at math you can likely come up with a guess at my age without me freely giving it away here.

I’m a self proclaimed nerd. I have no shame in admitting that. Growing up I loved reading and writing. I excelled in English classes and I was never bothered by literature assignments that would make classmates cringe. I also didn’t mind being tasked with a book report or essay.

I wrote poetry for fun (yes, you read that right). I was inquisitive about people, places and things. I don’t recall ever walking away from finishing a book in which I didn’t have a plethora of questions after that last page turn. I simply had a desire to know more.

When I entered high school, my dream was to become a doctor. In fact, I was certain that would become my career path. When I needed an elective to fill out my schedule, I signed up for journalism on a whim. I assumed it would be relatively easy as I enjoyed reading/writing.

That impulse decision turned out to be a total game changer. I walked into Kenn Johnson’s journalism class not knowing that meeting him would steer me on an entirely different route.

Mr. Johnson (I still find it odd referring to him as Kenn as it was always Mr. Johnson or Mr. J.) had a great sense of humor. He made the class fun. 

When it comes to journalism, he was the real deal. I was fascinated the day he brought in movable type to show the class (physical letter blocks that were used to set text in newspapers by hand before type was digitized).

Mr. Johnson taught us about the history of newspapers, the printing process and most importantly, all the ingredients necessary to build a good news story. He was firm if he needed to be (and that was often because we were know-it-all kids who really knew very little).

In my high school days things had evolved to the utilization of computers, but the production part of the paper was still old school. It required paste-up; we used light tables and printed out stories, headlines, etc., and pasted them onto a page with wax.

There was a dark room where photos were developed from negatives and hung to dry. Students used graphic tape and X-Acto knives to place borders around images.

Mr. Johnson was serious about instruction, passionate about journalism and the art of storytelling. Student members of the Tribal Tribune produced award-winning material year after year. It was a true honor to serve as the tribune editor.

Semester after semester I kept returning to the journalism class, trying new things, even roles outside my comfort zone.

Mr. Johnson saw something in me early on and he pushed me. I vividly remember a hearty discussion we had when he propositioned that I try writing a sports story. I was adamantly opposed, but he stressed the importance of a good leader/editor being well-rounded in all aspects of the paper, capable of stepping up to the plate—particularly in times of crisis.

By the time I graduated it was clear that I had ink running through my veins. My dream of becoming a doctor faded as the desire to pursue journalism grew stronger.

Mr. Johnson taught me everything I know. Taken under his wing, I was given the know-how to chase a lead and bring an individual story to life on the page through words. He stressed the importance of freedom of speech and the press, how to ask questions (even if they might be tough) and advised that it’s OK to express an opinion someone might disagree with.

He followed my journey through college as a staff member and later editor of the Eastern Progress at EKU. He laid a rock solid foundation. Because of Mr. Johnson I was not only prepared for growth but he paved the way for future success. I owe him so much credit and thanks for landing in the editor’s seat at the Advocate.

I’ve enjoyed a now 21-year Advocate career that’s been rewarding and fulfilling beyond measure!

Even after Mr. Johnson retired from teaching, he never once quit rooting me on from the sidelines. Ironically, “Sidelines” was the name of his Advocate column.

Mr. J. even stepped in temporarily to fill my shoes at the Advocate when I was on maternity leave. How admirable to do that not just for me, but for the paper! 

His presence will forever be missed, but his legacy will continue on through the lives of the many students he touched. I hope I continue to make you proud Mr. J!

—This article was written by Jamie Vinson, the Advocate’s Managing Editor.