Showing posts with label West High School. Show all posts
Showing posts with label West High School. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Slow and Slower

[Whole New Media] Within a couple of hours after a West High School student died yesterday in a horrendous car wreck in Ogden, most every student knew who she was.

For the record, the victim is 17-year-old Alyssa Lopez. She was a junior and a cheerleader. Several other teens were involved; three were injured.

Most news outlets were keeping Lopez' identity quiet last night. The Salt Lake Tribune didn't name Lopez until
2:22 p.m. today--a full 24 hours afterward. The Deseret Morning News identified her online at 1:02 p.m. KSL TV and radio moved slightly quicker, with an I.D. at noon.

With the aid of frantic text messaging and online chat yesterday, the West High student population was in the know long before the mainstream media decided they should know. The usual explanation given at news outlets for withholding such information is "next of kin must be notified." That's respectful, and tradition. But no doubt the girl's family knew shortly after the accident.

The story behind this story is fascinating. Traditional media have always played the authority figure on choosing when to run a story, or whether to wait or to dribble out information in bits to the public. Editors and station managers have always worked from the assumption that "it's news when we say it's news."

Uh, not so much. Any student with a cell phone yesterday (including those who attend other schools) knew everything they wanted to know about this story. And almost 24 hours before the mainstream media chose to flesh it out.

It's sort of like those Comcast advertising turtles--the Slowskys. And all these c-r-r-r-a-z-y kids are the high-speed hares. (Holly Mullen)

Friday, November 30, 2007

Stephanie Bernritter, 1968-2007

[Heroes] This beautiful soul is Stephanie Bernritter. She taught English and creative writing at Salt Lake City's West High School from 2002 until just a few days ago.



Ms. B, as we all knew her, died of complications from a long battle against leukemia on the night of Nov. 28. She was 39. Stephanie is survived by her husband Kevin, of Salt Lake City, relatives in Seattle (her hometown) and countless friends and proteges.

She is a warrior and a goddess. Fierce about good writing, loving toward all, this woman is the teacher you all hope your children will get. I know I did. Stephanie taught my daughter, now 19, and was her advisor when she co-edited WestWinds, the school's socko literary magazine. Beyond her passion for teaching, and her famous 15-minute "writing prompts," Stephanie helped with student clubs and athletics, including soccer coaching and advising the Gay Student Association. She headed up numerous poetry slams at coffee houses around Salt Lake City, where her students showcased their considerable talents.

My son was in her 11th-grade English class this year. She led him through The Grapes of Wrath with the usual reverence for John Steinbeck's literary talent, but she also got her students writing brief and beautiful essays about poverty, alienation and socialism.

I used to visit Stephanie's classes each year and talk about creative non-fiction. The students and I batted around ideas, discussed ways to narrate a story. I always told them how much they had to say and write, and how valuable their life stories are. This, in a world where too many adults in their lives dismiss them for their youth and inexperience. That, or they fear them, simply because they are teenagers.

None of this applies to Stephanie. She gave all of her students the power to live well and to write their truths. Dissing the state of public education is becoming a regular mantra these days. But it's fairly certain these critics never knew a teacher/a human being/a warrior like Stephanie Bernritter.

I just returned from a memorial service for Stephanie at West High. After a short video of her life and work shown in the library, the entire school gathered on the front lawn to send up balloons in her honor. We ended the service with a collective shout--what amounts to Ms. B's favorite expression: Right (or Write) On! (Holly Mullen)