Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, March 30, 1992 TAG: 9203280175
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: JOE KENNEDY STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
Just perfection.
When she doesn't get it, she storms around the room shouting, "Garbage! Garbage! Garbage!"
At times, the pressure has made her young workers on Salem High School's yearbook, the Laconian, say they don't care about perfection, or whether the yearbook is good enough win awards.
This year has been relatively calm.
"I haven't had to holler `Garbage!' once," Noel says, "and they haven't once said, `Who cares about the judges?' "
High school yearbook staffs are wrapping up their efforts for the year, putting finishing touches on the spring activities supplements and beginning to look forward to the day when the product of all their efforts comes out.
Soon, they'll be able to breathe again.
"It's something that when you get it done, you feel like you've accomplished something," says a smiling Joel Hickerson, who handles the Laconian's sports section.
Stressful, frustrating, time-consuming and sleep-wrecking, the job offers an early taste of adult life, replete with financial worries.
Staffers at many schools receive an hour's photojournalism credit for the countless hours they put in. In return, they learn to sell ads, schedule assignments, interview subjects, take photographs, write copy, lay out pages and meet deadlines, all while keeping up with their school work and social lives.
At some schools, they've mastered the intricacies of desktop publishing, using computers to write their copy and even to lay out pages. At William Fleming High School in Roanoke, they've gone high-tech by shooting tape and blocking out a script for their video yearbook, now in its third year.
At Patrick Henry High in Roanoke, they're trying to boost sales from a measly 350 last year to 500 or more this year - or else face an administration weary of underwriting a losing effort.
The joys are quiet ones, earned with difficulty. Nobody adores the yearbook staffs. Bands don't play for them. Cheerleaders don't wave their pompons in their behalf. Campus beauties and sports stars don't dream of accompanying them to the prom. Staffers don't even get played up in the yearbook.
What they do get is the satisfaction of a job well done. Even if their classmates don't aways agree.
Yearbooks have changed in recent times. Most Roanoke Valley schools retain the hard-bound, picture-filled books of yore. Now, though, they often contain sections of color photos and spot color throughout. In many cases, dedications are passe - too many deserving school officials were overlooked.
Several schools have senior videos, which are viewed as threat, however slight, to the more expensive, but more lasting, traditional books.
Like cheerleading, yearbooks have become the subject of summer camps costing $200 or more - there's one at Hollins College - and competitions on state and national levels.
Awards are duly noted. In Salem, the school board invited the Laconian's creators in for kudos after their most recent award.
In a nation wracked by recession, yearbooks are becoming a tougher sell. Success depends on many things, not least the students' socioeconomic backgrounds.
When Matthew Thompson interviewed for a job as media specialist at Patrick Henry High School last year, he was told that yearbook duties came with it, and was asked how he felt about that.
"Needing a job, I said, `I feel fine about that,' " he says.
He got the job and quickly discovered just how difficult supervising a yearbook staff can be - especially when you lack the personal computers and other high-tech gear some staffs have.
Thompson hopes to sell at least 500 yearbooks this year. Last year, the figure was 350, and the ink was copious and red, though the publication was chosen for Taylor Publishing's Yearbook Yearbook, an honor.
"We're going to lose the book unless we turn it around."
Mike Sissler, the school's assistant principal, blames "lack of school spirit."
Melany Bundy and Troy Jamison, the editors, are more specific. Students from poor families can't afford the $30 book, they say. Some students don't care, others want to spend their money on other things and some have children to raise. Yearbooks are the least of their worries.
"It's not `Happy Days' any more," Jamison says. He joined the staff because his father, a 1963 PH graduate, told him it was fun.
At Fleming, seven students are shooting tape and blocking out directions for a video production house in Nashville. Their 45-minute product will be available to students in the fall. But last year, only 150 paid the $25 for the tapes and senior portrait books that come with them.
Still, the video has enabled the school to recoup the losses it suffered with its traditional yearbook, adviser Jimmy Deck says. He notes that nowadays, seniors get autograph books and other souvenirs from cap-and-gown companies, ring suppliers and other businesses. That may account for the low sales, which he, of course, hopes to increase.
Elsewhere, yearbook sales are thriving. At William Byrd High School in eastern Roanoke County, Phyllis Zorn's staffers sell 600 to 650 books to the 1,075 students.
At Cave Spring High School in Southwest Roanoke County, sales reached 810 to the 1,150 students. Glenvar High in the western county distributes 400 books to its 600 or so students. At Salem High School, Noel and her staff - through early discounts, direct mailings, sales of fast-food coupons and other strategies - will sell 835 to 1,013 students.
That's better than 80 percent, though still less than the 90 percent that Noel says she'd be satisfied with.
Even in the midst of such prosperity, there is concern among yearbook advisers.
"The last couple of years it's been very tough to get a staff together," says Sandy Ferguson, the adviser at Cave Spring. Ever-increasing requirements for advanced studies diplomas - which many of her staffers want - cut into the time they might give to yearbook work.
She also sees the senior video, produced by an outside firm, as a threat - though she and other advisers note that videos are less portable, less lasting, less hands-on and in general less satisfying than the traditional yearbook.
"You can't autograph a video," they say.
Yearbooks can cost $20,000 or more to produce. While staffs at some schools have occasionally made enough to invest in computer hardware, none feels financially secure. One off-year could be disastrous.
***CORRECTION***
Published correction ran on March 31, 1992.
The portrait book at William Fleming High School is not limited to senior pictures but includes pictures of students in all classes. Because of a reporter's error, this information was incorrect in Monday's Extra section story about high school yearbooks.
Memo: CORRECTION