Jaire
Byers
BEST PARTNER EXPERIENCE
DEADLINE I LEARNED MOST FROM
BEST AND LEAST EFFECTIVE COPY
BEST AND LEAST EFFECTIVE PHOTOS
BEST AND LEAST EFFECTIVE QUOTATIONS
EXPERIENCE I LEARNED MOST FROM
BEST INTERVIEW EXPERIENCE
BEST MODULE
BEST SPREAD
LEAST EFFECTIVE SPREAD
BEST LEADERSHIP EXPERIENCE
BEST AND LEAST EFFECTIVE HEADLINES
BEST FACT-GATHERING METHOD
BEST INTERVIEW QUESTION OR APPROACH
FAVORITE PROJECT OF THE YEAR
I immediately think of when Brogen Witucki and I collaborated one night to write a dominant story on the Grand Blanc v. Powers Catholic varsity basketball game over a two-hour phone call. As we bounced ideas off of each other and the story began to write itself, I couldn’t help but think, “This is why I joined the ECHO staff. This is what I came here to do.” I usually don’t do well when it comes to phone calls, but our communication and collaborative skills felt seamless during one of the most productive two hours of my time in Yearbook.
I shudder a little thinking about it, but our first deadline comes to mind. After what I later realized was a full-blown panic attack, I intended to talk to Mrs. Butzu before school about my difficulty meeting the deadline the next day, but my bus had to do an evacuation drill, so I no longer had time to meet with her. I still had to turn in my camera before class, and despite my attempts to divert any attention from myself, Mrs. Butzu caught on and asked if I was doing okay, leading to a brief conversation that came to be one of the definitive moments of my experience in Yearbook. I quickly learned that you can’t hide from Mrs. Butzu. With her uncanny and characteristic ability to see straight through people, she observed that I seem to build ideas that are too ambitious for me to actually handle, and I end up burning myself out. And, that’s precisely what I had done. She helped me realize that often the best work comes from realizing your limits and finding the realistic conciliation between your ideas and your reality. Although this was one of several experiences that month that drove me to nearly quitting Yearbook before even starting, it was also one of several experiences that shaped my identity and skills as a reporter, as a student, as a person.
I was able to achieve my best copy with the dominant story Brogen Witucki and I wrote about the Grand Blanc vs. Powers Catholic varsity basketball game mainly because I think I have ample control over reporting when writing a longer story. This story shines because of the way Brogen and I were able to get unique perspectives and details from an intensive set of interviews and follow-ups.
By contrast, I feel cramped when I’m assigned to supercoverage-style copy where I have to reduce my reporting to a disjoint series of quotations without context. Although these quotations are unified by a common (and relatively personal) question of what their proudest moment was, I didn’t have the time to dig deeper with each of the players for a host of reasons: only one shot at attending a practice, being extremely uncomfortable and anxious in high-testosterone environments, and the sheer number of quotations I needed to get.
This photo of two golfers chatting while walking between holes has many qualities that make it my best photo. Technically, it is nearly flawless with the subjects in focus and framed effectively, little over- or underexposure, and an effective use of depth of field. Artistically, there are a few noteworthy characteristics: the alignment of the golfers’ bags, the sense of listening in on an intimate moment, and the imagery of figures walking toward the light.
The other photo, by contrast, lacks several of these redeeming qualities. The photo, as an arbitrary portrait with a meaningless background, lacks a story. The angle and the lighting are unflattering to the subject as well, and the subject is slightly out of focus. Although this was taken for a supercoverage-style module, I could have taken a better photo that reflected the evocative story about a breakup that his quotation revealed.
FROM “Connor’s Line of Flight: JV golfer, Connor Belcher, prepares for and reflects upon the upcoming season”
“That actually blows my mind,” Austin said. “I honestly did not know that. He wouldn’t tell me anything like that. I try to do everything to help him, just trying to make him a better golfer. I try to help him in life—everything. That was my plan, to [be] a role model, so he could look up to me. He’s my little brother. He’s the only one I’ve got after my parents go.” —Austin Belcher
This quotation works well because it’s telling of the behind-the-scenes work that a reporter does to find the story underneath the surface and make connections between people. The story was originally about how a freshman golfer was preparing for the upcoming season, but it turned into a story about how much an older brother can influence his younger brother’s life. The most powerful part about this is that I was able to be the middle-man and share something so special between these two brothers that might have gone unshared for years.
FROM “A Part of Me You Do Not See”
“I like spending time with family. We like snowmobiling and ATV’ing." —Jacob Cox
Although this quotation is taken from a supercoverage spread, that doesn’t excuse it for failing to dig deeper. I remember how difficult it was to interview this subject as I tried to coax him into sharing more about specific memories he has with or specific emotions he has toward his family. This was my first time on a supercoverage spread, so I suppose it’s excusable to some extent, but I later learned that there is no subject too difficult to get a story out of.
Although not the most positive, I feel like it would be insincere not take the chance to tell the story I never got to tell. At Physician’s Park on a brisk summer morning, doe-eyed and overdressed, I was shoved into the yearbook experience head first, as I quickly learned the kind of environment I’d be navigating and the role I would assume for the rest of the year. Somehow cliquier than everyone said it was, I found myself feeling more like an outsider than I was prepared to feel on what was supposed to be a “fun” summer day, more like an outsider than I would ever expect to feel among people I believed to be my friends—or at least potential friends. Unamused by the quirky games that felt strangely self-congratulatory, disappointed with the blissfully unwelcoming atmosphere created as a byproduct of GB YRBK’s brimming talent, I failed to connect with anyone, but it was my fault for not being cool enough. It felt so pathetic that, once again, the only person who seemed to appreciate my presence was “the teacher.” I won’t pretend I wasn’t hurt deeply by that experience because recognizing that helps me identify and capitalize on the unique role that I eventually accepted and enjoyed on the staff. I didn’t come here to play. I didn’t even come here to make friends. Hell, I didn’t come here to take nice pictures. I came here to learn. And that kind of resolve doesn’t come without some pain. After all, I did say, in what felt like a clumsy and and pitiful and pretentiously honest “speech” at the picnic, that I joined the staff to gain wisdom from reversing my perspective on the school from the outside in to the inside out—and apparently Butzu cried, I hear. I guess all that wasn’t a coincidence.
My best interview experience was from my final deadline where I interviewed Connor Belcher as a prospective golf team member. He told me how much he looked up to his older brother and how he got him into golf and inspires him to be a better golfer. I didn’t want to do follow the angle that included his older brother in the module, but Brogen Witucki encouraged me to give it a try and see where it takes the story. It ended up being one of the single most gratifying experiences in my time on the staff, and it was a great way to end strong on my final deadline.
I DIDN'T COME HERE TO PLAY.
This is personally my favorite module because of how effectively it depicts Mr. Moore in a context outside of the classroom, both in content and tone. It really shows through the copy both how comfortable he was with me as an interviewer and how comfortable he is with his students—plus, the third-wall break at the end is so cute. My choice to use a question-and-answer style rather than the original intent of a short story helped to make the copy come off as conversational and intimate, which just highlights the theme of the page, which was about looking into the complex interpersonal relationships among students and staff in the school.
The Sense of listening in on an intimate moment
Could have taken a better photo
This is overall the best spread I participated on because it’s simultaneously dramatic in visual and dramatic in concept. The contrast of color and use of grayscale photography in such a colorful yearbook draws the reader in. It’s simple and raw and exposed, and it just works. This spread confronts and discusses some of the most sobering topics in the whole yearbook, like classism, racism, identity, just the angst of growing up and the fear of meeting people’s expectations. It’s a prime example of supercoverage done impactfully and beautifully.
I consider this to be the least effective spread that I worked on because it fails to offer a compelling perspective about athletic life. Although some of the quotations do evoke emotion, the spread as a whole is not very impactful. Because of the high density of the quotations, there is not enough room to expand upon the quite factual answers the subject gave to the question of their proudest moment in their respective sport. The design of the page doesn’t really add much to the coverage either, although it does help that it provides a visual comparison of the teams’ sizes, but that’s not very meaningful. I’m not a fan of supercoverage-style spreads for this reason, but it’s difficult because our school simply has so many students that it’s difficult to cover so many people meaningfully, but there is a way, and this isn’t it.
I played an indispensable role in the creation and development of the “Strength In Numbers” spread. Although my only assignment contribution was the bottom-right module, I devoted my extra time to help my groupmates execute their parts of the spread. When anyone was having trouble finding an angle or writing a headline or choosing quotations or even designing the page, I offered my help. The sidebar’s concept was my thinking; I recommended to Sydney an icon site from which we drew all of our graphics and helped select and place them; I suggested new interview questions to improve the dominant module; I came up with most of the headlines; and I stayed up late to make sure every single part of the copy deadline was in place and flawless for once. I like to think of my role here as the glue that held our team together.
THE GLUE THAT HELD OUR TEAM TOGETHER.
IT'S SIMPLE AND RAW AND EXPOSED, AND IT JUST WORKS.
This is the most effective headline I wrote because it works trifold: it’s catchy with a commonly used phrase, it related to the idea of interpersonal solidarity, and it references with a double-entendre to the fact that it’s an infographic spread that quantifies social relationships through numbers.
This is the least effective headline I wrote because although it is catchy, the idiomatic reference doesn’t clearly communicate the idea of the spread being about athlete’s proudest moments—the connecting is simply too convoluted. It makes it more confusing that the connotation of “books” is contrasting with athletics and that the typography overly emphasizes “one.”
The best fact-gathering method I used was for the “I Am GB” twin spreads. We had to take the time to explain the page’s concept thoroughly to every potential subject, gather a supercoverage-style variety of responses, but still pay respect to the depth of the spread’s concept. The best way to do this, I figured, would be to carefully create a Google Forms survey that’s conducive to in-depth responses. But instead of posting a link on social media and limiting our sampling, we arbitrarily chose classes and made small speeches in each of them (explaining the concept and showing them the spread, and inspiring interest in the yearbook), and passed out sheets that had the link so they could take the survey in their free time. We also targeted classes where the students had access to computers so that they would more likely write quality responses. The results were spectacular, and we only had to do follow-up interviews for a few subjects. I’m still amazed that we got so much powerful coverage (34 people) in such a short time.
“Is there anything else you would like to add?” is personally my favorite interview question, and arguably the universally most effective interview question. It’s free from bias and editorialization, it puts the mic completely in the subject’s hands, and it helps to capture all the residue of the subject’s unvoiced thoughts throughout the interview. Oftentimes, I’ve found that I get my most meaningful material after asking, “Is there anything else you would like to add?” One of my favorite examples of this is when I was interviewing Mr. Moore, and he broke the fourth-wall to talk directly to the readers, referencing to the fact that he might get a flood of game requests after people read the module.
My favorite project of the year was our promotional strategy during Yearbook Week where we wrote letters to people we had covered meaningfully, sharing with them our thoughts on the coverage, attaching a sample of that coverage, and encouraging them to buy a yearbook. I always felt a need to reconnect with the people I had covered; I felt a special connection to each of these people that no one else in the school shared, but I didn’t know to express that odd connection. This marketing strategy was perfect for that, and it was such a joy getting to take that extra step and let subjects know that they’re more than a deadline, that they’re more than a space-filler, and that they’re real people from whom I draw inspiration and whom I often think about.