Thankful for people who care

The Spring 2007 class -- along with two members of the Summer 2007 class -- gather in front of the Diversity Institute in Nashville, Tenn.

I didn’t fully understand the experience I was about to embark on when I arrived at orientation.

This weekend was more than information about journalism and training for our internships. It was about support, great role models, mentors and the beginning of lifelong relationships.

I am used to doing everything on my own. I started working at age 14 and haven’t stopped. I went to Cuba by myself. I moved to a university of 45,000 students three days before school started, not knowing anyone. I moved myself. I paid for everything.

As I reflect on these experiences and the experiences of the weekend, I can honestly say for the first time that someone believes in me and that many people (besides my sisters) are behind me 100 percent.

I first applied for this program during my junior year and didn’t get in. I didn’t give up. I applied for the program the following year. Today as I sit here, I am glad that I did.

Most of all, I’m glad that there are people like (program founder) John C. Quinn who actually care about the future of the press and about each of us. The staff of the Chips Quinn Scholars Program is great, as well. They are the people who made this weekend a great experience and who give me hope for the future.

-- Maria Ines Zamudio, Summer 2007 Scholar, Springfield (Mo.) News-Leader (one of two Summer Scholars attending Spring orientation because of scheduling conflicts)

An abundance of gifts

The weekend makes me optimistic about the future of journalism and about my own future in the field.

The friends and mentors I have made amazed me so much, taught me so much and made me laugh so much. Ashley (Anthony) was brave to be the first to recite the First Amendment. It helped to have Stephanie (Armenta) to share our fears of fast-paced dailies since we have worked only at magazines. When I learned that Kellie (Hwang) and Mariecar (Mendoza) also belong to the Asian American Journalists Association, I felt comfortable sharing that already-established connection with them. (I'm excited to have the same connection with Chips Quinn alums).

Deanna (Dent) showed me her photography project and gave me tips on getting into photography. At odd hours of the night, Maria (Miranda) and I shared our experience of studying journalism and discussed how my classes in Hong Kong emphasized different things from her classes here. Maria (Zamudio) and I talked about traveling and going abroad; I hope she has a wonderful time in Beijing (try fried scorpions!).

Tara-Lynne (Pixley) is a fabulous dancer and I loved her contagious energy. Connie (Llanos) is fun and hilarious; it inspires me that she tries hard and asked for so much advice about getting more feedback on her work throughout this orientation. She'll be an amazing editor and mentor herself one day--I'd work for her :) Craig (Henry) impressed me when he talked about how direct he is with his editors about what he wants to learn. I hope I can one day be that assertive. And I hope to one day acquire as many new media skills as Brian (Aguilar). Alex (Burris) is one of the sweetest people I've ever met, Gabby (Gonzalez) is passionate and inquisitive, and Diana (Diroy) packs so much energy into her tiny self.

I hope that the skills and traits that I admire in my fellow Chipsters have rubbed off a bit on me. And I hope that I have contributed something to someone while I'm here.

It's sad that orientation's over now but I know that we'll stay connected in some way. I'm looking forward to also learning from the dedicated, passionate and knowledgeable network of mentors we now have.

-- Cathy Tran, Spring Scholar, The Orange County (Calif.) Register and University of California-Santa Barbara

The elusive cowboy

Having fun line dancing at the Wildhorse Saloon, a Nashville landmark, are Ashley Anthony (left), Career Coach Colleen Fitzpatrick and Connie Llanos.

His thumbs hooked in the belt loops of his jeans, the man in cowboy attire high-kicked and pivoted with a grace that comes only from experience. His tipped black hat, matching boots and shirt fit the Wildhorse Saloon's decor and clientele. But still, he managed an air of superiority. I was enthralled.
I've never traveled to anywhere even close to the nation’s Heartland before. My closest brush with the stomps and gyrations of line dancing came in elementary school, years ago. My cowgirl-wannabe of a school librarian would give me short lessons in the hallway. No, this man was far removed from any previous experience or understanding I had in the way of country anything.
He was the real thing.

Twanging accents shouting friendly "Hey ya'alls!" and the never-ending barrage of country crooning formed an unintelligible din. The sounds curled up through the saloon's atrium, filling the three floors then bouncing back to the dance floor, where The Cowboy was fully engaged in serious dancing.

Giggling teenagers tried their feet at a line nearby but no one could approach the calm confidence of The Cowboy's obvious expertise. Side step after side step, swivel, stomp and swivel again, he never missed a beat. But he also never smiled. I thought that was curious.

We joined him and many others on a packed dance floor to misstep and laugh our way through a simple routine. After repeating the same stomps and pivots what seemed like a hundred times, our gaggle of line-dancing hopefuls swarmed back to our tables. Laughing uproariously and red-faced (line dancing is more strenuous than it looks), I noticed that The Cowboy had taken his leave of the lines and was nowhere to be seen. Perfection alone must be far less entertaining than making goofs with friends. The Cowboy showcased his skills, inspiring our laugh-worthy attempts, then high-tailed it. Our night, however, was only getting started.

-- Tara-Lynne S. Pixley, Spring Scholar, The Greenville (S.C.) News and Florida A&M University

Showing, not telling

The Wildhorse Saloon was the perfect setting for photos, dancing and fun.


In just a few hours I’ll be on a plane back to California. As I sit here typing my final blog entry I am drawing a blank. Maybe it’s because we’ve done so much in so little time that I’m at a loss for words.

Or maybe it’s because I’ve had such an amazing time here – in Nashville and as a participant in the Chips Quinn orientation – that I can’t think of any words that could possibly define how much fun I’ve had and how much I’ve learned.

So instead of writing it here, I’m going to show you what I’ve learned through the articles I crank out every day.

For the moment, I’ll tell about the non-journalism stuff I learned here in the music capital:

* I learned to line dance – almost mastering “Money Bags.”

* I learned that Jack Marsh is better than I am at line dancing.

* I learned a new cheer: “Hooooooooooooooooollllllleeerrrr and swoller!”

* I learned that I have a Nashville accent late at night (I’m a native Californian).

And I learned that country music ain’t all that bad.

-- Mariecar Mendoza, reporter, The Desert Sun, Palm Springs, Calif., and California Polytechnic State University

Living Loie's philosophy

When I arrived at the John Seigenthaler Center Thursday my thoughts were filled with the comments I had heard from previous “Chipsters” who affirmed I would never be the same after my Chips Quinn experience. I was excited and grateful for the chance to come to Nashville and participate in the conferences and exercises. I was confident the speakers and coaches would improve my writing skills and maybe even give me the dose of “journalism juice” I was craving.

Five months into my first job, after three months as an intern at the same paper, self-doubt had begun clouding my work and fear was steering me toward another career path. Cynicism from colleagues was beginning to wear on my usually vibrant personality and positive outlook. Even a dreaded career in public relations had begun to look like a possibility.

I am not saying all my fears are quelled. I teeter between a lack of confidence and an incessant drive to succeed, which makes my life harder than it has to be at times. But these last few days have filled me with hope that journalism is the place for me. I cannot begin to name everyone who has touched me over these last few days. Each person has been special and has provided me with some needed comment or warm set of words.

Sitting through session after session with my fellow Chipsters, alums and all of the phenomenal Freedom Forum gang, I never felt more at ease or more satisfied with the people I was surrounded by.

From line dancing to dancing along to the Freedom Rockers, from laughs to tears, all of it was special and life changing.

There are so many quotes I take away with me. I plan to hold on to them and replay them in my head so when times get tough again I can remember why I am doing what I am doing, and why I belong exactly where I am.

But quite possibly my favorite quote of this trip is something John Quinn said as he handed out Loie Legacy Awards to Chips alums. He said his late wife lived by the quote: “Dance like nobody’s watching, sing like nobody’s listening, love like you’ve never been hurt and live like it’s heaven on Earth.” I plan to.

-- Connie Llanos, education reporter, Daily News, Los Angeles and California State University-Northridge

An orientation 'high'

I have a feeling that when I get back to Arizona, I will still be on an orientation “high.”

The only problem with these past four days is that they flew by too fast. The second you start to get to know someone, understand a topic or appreciate an aspect of journalism you didn’t notice before, the rug is pulled out from under you.

When I got here, I did not know what to expect. I was shocked by the attentiveness of the Freedom Forum employees and the quality of every session and speaker. From each person, I learned at least one valuable lesson that I will take with me into the newsroom.

What I value most is that I now have a strong support system that I will not be shy to turn to. The genuine compassion that everyone in this program has for each of us truly amazes me. I couldn’t think of anything better than knowing that I am not alone.

And that support does not stop at just the Freedom Forum. My fellow class Scholars and I are in the same boat. I don’t think any of them will hesitate to come to my aid when I have a problem, drop by to visit me when they are near, or just call out of the blue to say hello. There are not many people in my life I can say that about.

I can only say that I hope this high never ends

-- Kellie Hwang, Spring Scholar, The Arizona Republic, University of Washington

Mixed emotions

It's the final day of Chips Quinn orientation. Part of me is happy about that because it means I get to return to my job. But it's also difficult to leave.

I have had the pleasure of knowing many people involved with the Freedom Forum for many years now, and it is great to see them again and catch up. Obviously, it also is difficult to part with the new friends I have made. I'm torn between getting back to doing what I love – working for the Argus Leader – and leaving the people I have grown to love.

I have heard it described how Chipsters are a close family. I didn't believe I would be able to get close to 14 strangers in just four days. I was wrong. The Chips Quinn Scholars program is an unforgettable experience.

From the inspiring words of John Quinn and other speakers, to hanging out with Rick (the owner of the Red Door Saloon – Go Bears!) with Mariecar (Mendoza), Brian (Aguilar), Kellie (Hwang) and Connie (Llanos), to watching Jack Marsh and Karen Catone line dancing at the Wildhorse, to all of the other experiences: Thank you.

-- Craig Henry, online journalist, Argus Leader, Sioux Falls, S.D., and University of Oklahoma