Remembering a Teacher

This is off topic from my standard running fare but a personal blog is as good as any place to share some thoughts and reflections after some recent news.

Let me set the stage. In college, I was a hot mess in many ways (the same could probably be said for my 20s in general, frankly). By the start of my sophomore year, I was at my third university (UW-Madison) and without a clue as to what to do with my life. After lacking any direction whatsoever for what seemed like forever, two beacons emerged to help me start to navigate through things: running and writing. And despite continued struggles, they remained constant sources of stability, hope and enjoyment for me throughout the duration of college.

Writing in particular led me to try some journalism classes, and before I knew it, I was majoring in journalism. It didn’t feel like typical “school” or leave me asking, “what’s the point?”  I devoured my classes and all the J-school offered. I even took on a part-time job affiliated with the J-school, just to learn and soak up more.

Central to all of this, of course, were my professors. Professor Baughman was among my favorite. His passion for the written word and the history of journalism were undeniable—and if you weren’t captivated by his lectures, you weren’t listening. He had a wit and sophistication about him that made his lessons so interesting and funny, and he was also incredibly friendly and clearly loved his students and what he did.

I took as many of his classes as I could and knew I had found my calling. I honestly don’t know where I would be or what I would be doing if I hadn’t found journalism, and his classes in particular. He made me want to be a better writer and to tell stories that mattered. He made me realize history is filled with lessons for the future.

As I neared the end of my senior year, I applied for jobs from coast to coast—and within both the news reporting and public relations industries, thanks to my completing both tracks within the J-school out of sheer paranoia about being able to find a job. Keep in mind it was also months after 9/11, and market prospects were questionable, to say the least. I desperately wanted to be the kind of journalist my schooling had trained me to be; the kind of writer my teachers like Professor Baughman had helped me realize I could be, and how I could bring light to important stories by simply putting pen to paper, so to speak.

The first job offer I received was from a PR agency, and nearly 14 years later, it’s still the organization I’m proud to call my employer. I didn’t become that breaking news reporter, and I’m not writing in-depth features to bring attention to an under represented issue or population like I had once imagined. I have, however, found a rewarding career related to my degree that enables me to tell stories — and, more importantly, I can point back to the lessons of Professor Baughman and confidently say I still carry them with me today.

Speaking of “today,” or the present in general — that leads to what drove me to write this post, which admittedly has become a bit rambling. On Friday, I happen to see via Twitter the announcement that Saturday, March 26 (the next day), would be Professor Baughman Day in Madison, in recognition of his contributions to his students and the university. Madison Mayor Paul Soglin issued the proclamation, noting that he had “committed his students to the legacy that ‘the great state University of Wisconsin should ever encourage that continual and fearless sifting and winnowing by which alone the truth can be found,’ ” –the latter part of the statement being in reference to a quote on a plaque outside a university building, according to the Wisconsin State Journal.

It turned out Professor Baughman was in the hospital for a serious illness. Not knowing anything else, I had a brief moment of panic, stopped everything I was doing, and quickly typed up an email to him. I hadn’t seen him since 2002 and hundreds of students later, I’m sure he wouldn’t remember me (with maybe the only reason he would being my unusual maiden name). But I felt the need to let him know how much impact he had on my life, and how appreciative I was for what he had taught me. I also congratulated him on James Baughman day and let him know I would be observing and celebrating it from St. Paul.

Sadly, Professor Baughman passed away the next day (Saturday), and I don’t think he saw my email. The news hit me hard, and was a huge loss to the university and so many people whose lives he touched. I also am sorry for the legions of future students who won’t have the opportunity to learn from him. In an era of fragmented media outlets and what oftentimes seems a disdain for the past in order to keep things fresh and relevant, voices like Professor Baughman’s are so needed for the next generation of journalists, reminding us that the core fundamentals of good writing, and telling a good story — and ultimately shedding light on the truth—will never change.

After not thinking much about college or the lessons from it for so many years, I realized how important my teachers were in helping me get to where I am today—especially Professor Baughman. I am forever grateful.

R.I.P., professor.