In my very first career-related class (Intro to Telecommunications at Ohio University, fall 2006), I learned that my entire career would be like one, huge group project.  Likewise, every assignment we had that term was also a group project.  And like most groups, not everyone completed all of their share, yet credit was distributed equally.

Here at Westminster, in the Broadcast Department we have our fair share of group projects too.  Whether it be an assignment (like producing a long-format radio story with a partner) or filming a high school football game with the rest of the remotes crew, we often work with one another.  Tempers can fly, feelings briefly hurt, but the amazing part is that we remain friends.

The County Line is an exceptional example of the group project theory.  Every Thursday night, about twenty students collectively work to organize a thirty minute news magazine show—live.  From producer to director, writer to anchor, reporter to videographer, sound board operator to tape operator, we do it all.  And by this point in the year, everyone is more than familiar with their respective roles and responsibilities, even given we sometimes rotate positions.

Nevertheless, sometimes we do fall short, and the rest of the group (and the overall outcome) suffer as well.  This past week was another example of this fact.  Two times this semester I have anchored, and two times this semester I have been forced to write scripts just hours before the show aired.  Normally, this process is supposed to take place the previous night, or during the day (the day of the show).  Hours beforehand is not only inconvenient, but highly stressful.

Usually, inability to write scripts can be attributed to lack of materials.  In other words, the anchors do not have access to news packages or new sources or sound bites on tape—all needed to effectively write about, into, and out of a specific, pre-produced story/quote.  And that’s where the problem rests: these items are supposed to be pre-produced…in advance…beforehand…with plenty of time to spare.  In this way, the anchors have ample opportunity to view the footage or listen to the quote and can make appropriate writing adjustments.  True, anchors can not necessarily write Thursday’s news on Tuesday.  But Wednesday night/Thursday morning is not out of reach, especially in regard to non-dated news packages.

So off I went, violently hurrying about on Thursday afternoon, trying to determine what some stories were even about.  (Which, by the way, is especially hard when the only information is a title slug, reading something like “Pony Ride PKG.”  How an anchor introduction is written from a slug is beyond my expertise.)  I was forced to frantically call the producer and reporters involved.  They were all in class.  So next came texting, and we all know a story can’t possibly be described in 160 characters or less—even with a qwerty keyboard.

In the end, we anchors had minimal mistakes throughout the show.  But they could have been avoided had we had more time to adequately prepare.  The point is, people are expected to hold up their ends of bargains, especially in group projects.  And though we produce The County Line every Thursday, it is, by virtue, no different.