What color is your parachute? Or what will you make of your parachute?

 For the last three years, six semesters to be precise, I have co-taught a 400-level required journalism course with John Dille, the wise man in the video above.

John and I have made a great team.

We teach a course about the Business & Future of Journalism. John is awesome talking about 'Big B' Business. And I share lots of information about what newsrooms are doing these days to attempt to guarantee that they'll be around in the Future.

John had taught the class on his own for two semesters before I signed on. It didn't take long for us to get in step with each other, using some of what John had taught before and adding new wrinkles to the class syllabus. The topic is a moving target and we are constantly updating our class content. But even so, after six semesters together, we've gotten into a pretty smooth routine.

John and me at graduation 2014.

We were lucky to have each other. 

I was very lucky to teach with such a caring, passionate educator and journalist. And I think the best students leave our class understanding that too.

In the final minutes of the final day of each semester, we offer some last words of advice to our students. I tell tell them not to be afraid to change directions along the way and to remember that they are snowballs - always accumulating knowledge, experience, skills that will serve them well no matter what they do.

John tells them the story caught on video above.

Because Spring 2014 at the Cronkite School of Journalism has been our final semester (we're going to take a little break), I was moved to record the tale that John always shares during these last minutes that we still have the students' attention. It's a winner. Even graduating seniors stop and take note. You should watch it.

Our class from the Spring 2013 semester. They look extra-serious because they are taking a quiz.

Robin Phillips, Phoenix 

My Perfect Gift on My Last Day At Work ... at least for the moment

This might seem a bit strange to be considered a Perfect Moment, especially since it happened on the day I decided to take medical leave from work to take care of my health.

I had been fighting the doctor’s advice for a while, thinking I could “Superwoman” through just about anything. But I eventually found that just because I might want to do something in my head and heart, the body does not always agree.

So, the time came to tell my students, and I have to admit I was able to do it without crying which had been my big challenge. Because they mean so much to me, but also because this would be the first time in 30 years I was not working.

I made it through the first group, and then on my last day had to tell the second group of students. It helped that some of them had already heard!

At the end of the day, I did not realize they planned to have a small going away send-off for me.

I was doing just fine until my boss started talking about how 8 years ago we had joined together to re-launch this Newswatch program at the Walter Cronkite School of Journalism, and how much I meant to him and the more than 800 students we have taught during our time together. I was OK, until his voice started cracking.

Then it was my turn to speak. I think I was able to get out the words “Thank you” and “Remember to work hard and have confidence in your skills” before all of a sudden I felt the tears start to well up. It was incredibly emotional and all I could do at that point was say, “Just use what I taught you” and then I held up my hand and added, “I’m done.” 

That’s when it started, the students all started hugging me, one by one, some crying, all saying I was the toughest teacher they had ever had, but they were so going to miss me because they knew I cared.

One even stood for a while sobbing on my shoulder. I was there comforting her after spending two semesters seeing her at least two days a week, sometimes more, and really enjoying watching her grow.  Her feelings were so raw, and heartfelt, and then I started crying again with her.

Another student even hugged me and pressed a note into my hand saying please read this letter later. It was a note telling me she appreciated my no-bullshit approach to things, and loved that I challenged everyone to be better. She thanked me for caring about her.

No, I think it goes the other way, I thank all my students for caring about me. They called; they wrote on Facebook; they instant messaged me. Former students I hadn’t heard from in years, reaching out to say “Hang in there, get better and get back to work!”

I was touched at the overwhelming support and love I have felt since making this tough decision to finally put myself first. I am a very blessed woman with amazing students, wonderful, supportive colleagues and a wife who is with me every step of the way. I also have amazing doctors! Just knowing all these people are behind me, supporting me, hoping to see me back walking the halls of Cronkite again and asking “What else ya got?” in our morning news meetings gives me hope, and courage, and the will to also get healthy and get back.

So, my Perfect Moment was in getting the opportunity to really know how much people care for me, and that is a gift I will remember forever.

Sue, Phoenix

OUR FIRST PERFECT MOMENT MONDAY

An InLinkz Link-up

Never wanted to be President, but Helen Thomas showed me I could grill one

As a journalism student in 1975, I snuck into the White House press corps which was camped out in the basement of the East-West Center in Hawaii to watch Ms. Helen Thomas, UPI cover President Ford. 

• Visit Didn't Help Ford Win Hawaii, Honolulu Star-Bulletin
• Daily Diary of President Gerald R. Ford, Dec. 7, 1975 (the 34th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor)

As reporters talked and laughed, waiting for Ford to mispronounce the word "hegemony," Helen Thomas smiled and typed away. She was my rock star.   

Eleven years later, I was working for that very same UPI, covering the deposed dictator President Ferdinand Marcos as he landed in Hawaii, exiled from the Philippines.

I hate the disgrace that came to Helen Thomas at the end of her career. I prefer to remember the very smart, very visible role model she was for women journalists.  

I never wanted to be the President.  Helen Thomas certainly showed me that I could grill one if that's what I wanted to do.  

Helen Thomas died today. She will always be remembered. 
 Thomas, Pioneering White House Correspondent, Dies at 92

The future of journalism

Business and Future of Journalism 2012, originally uploaded by RobinJP.

These college students are really engaged - that's the Perfect Moment.

This is my class at the Cronkite School of Journalism at Arizona State University. They look like they are taking a test, but they aren't. They are giving me and my teaching partner, John Dille, feedback on the semester.

On the whole, their class critiques are very useful as we continue to develop the class for Spring 2013.

Oh, and the class? The Business and Future of Journalism. A 400-level class about journalism as an industry and the impact of the Internet on the business of news.

Some of these students may look a little stumped, but who blames them.

Robin, Phoenix

The inspiring shelf life of flying cars

I talked with a class of high school students this week at Cronkite School of Journalism. These were smart kids who chose to spend a few weeks in school this summer getting a taste of college life.

My talk was on the Future of Journalism.   We started in the Cronkite museum to get a taste of the past - historic newspapers, early hand-held TV cameras and a a 1984 Macintosh computer that amused them. "Look, they used the rainbow Apple logo!" one exclaimed.


I then told them that when I was a kid and we thought about what the future would bring, we thought it would include flying cars.

"Yeah," my friends and I thought, "It'll be 2005 and we'll definitely have flying cars."

I then showed the students this cool video of Google's self-driving car project from 2010 which was designed to make driving safer, more enjoyable, and more efficient. The video shows a blind man named Steve who took the hands-free car for a spin... ending up at Taco Bell for lunch.

I talked with the students about innovation with a purpose, new ideas that help make people's lives better.



And I then asked them:

"When you were kids, what did you think you'd see in the future?  What did you dream about that you just knew will be here when you're older?"

They looked at me.  Thinking.

And then one young man shot up his hand.

"Flying cars."  


Robin, Tempe