For her school’s 50th anniversary, yearbook adviser Susannah Keneda wanted a special photo to pay tribute to the milestone. Here’s how she made it happen.
To commemorate Bedford Junior High School’s 50th year, I challenged myself to arrange 900 students and faculty members into the shape of a 50. I had never done this before, but felt it needed to be done and I am not scared easily by a challenge.
I started with my principal, knowing I needed his support to make this work. My experience has always been when I explain the why and how, he supports my hare-brained ideas. He gave me suggestions for contacts and scheduling, and later forwarded a detailed plan from a local elementary school who recently organized a similar picture for their 30th anniversary.
We scheduled the picture during homeroom on a Wednesday in late October. An early plan to use the practice field was scrapped due to new construction going on in that area. The head coach gave permission to use the football field, allowing us to use the yard lines already established. Still, I wondered: how much space would we need?
The band director helped with the spacing issue, suggesting using square corners, not rounded ones for the numbers, and printing out a football field PDF to map out the spacing.
After contacting the drone operator and the district public relations department, I used Google Drawings for the 50 and assigned classes to the shape. I insisted on everyone on campus being involved in the picture—head custodian, cafeteria ladies, support staff, aides, etc. I even asked our district maintenance man to be included.
I made sure special education students were located for easy removal. I strategically placed administrators and teachers with conference so they could help with crowd control. A class with a student in a wheelchair was slotted in an easily accessible spot as well as a teacher who just had foot surgery.
As the day grew closer, I stressed and worried a lot. I met with the band director who suggested using stakes and roping off the space. I bought hot pink yarn (our visible rope) and Home Depot generously donated paint sticks (our stakes).
My seventh period class did a test run to figure out spacing. Standing like soldiers, shoulder to shoulder, looking forward were the directions. Twenty-three ninth graders filled 10 yards.
The week before I confirmed with the drone operator and borrowed extra hammers for the stakes. I prayed for good weather and stressed some more. Using the football field PDF, the band director drew the 50 outline for the estimated 900 people. We determined we wanted about 400 in the zero and 500 in the 5 to fill it completely. Feedback from previous organizers suggested keeping people in close proximity so the number looks filled.
The week of the picture, I asked each grade level to be color coded for the picture in school colors: ninth graders in blue, eighth graders in red and seven graders in white. Many staff members ended up in the color of the grade they taught. My principal also sent out a reminder about the picture and what to wear. Students who were not color coded would still be in the photo, but the color coding was a fun addition. To wrap up preparations, I sent teachers the 50 map of where classes should stand and made sure the band director had a megaphone for directions and announcements.
On the day of, I woke up stressed, but excited and ready. We had beautiful weather, not too cool and no clouds in the sky. After first period, six staffers, the band directors and myself rushed out to get the shape set up on the field. An assistant band director suggested printing out teacher names to place around the field. A few staffers headed back inside to make the print outs.
The principal came out to let us know he’d dismiss by hallways so we could easily place everyone. In came the first wave. I smiled because so many kids were color coded and I knew how awesome this was going to be. As more kids arrived, the majority in their colors, we kept filling in the numbers. With the noise and numbers, we abandoned teacher assignments and just filled in the number, keeping teachers with students for crowd control.
Meanwhile, I realized the drone guys were not here. WHERE IS THE DRONE? I panicked on the inside, but remained totally cool on the outside. I breathed and watched as kids kept coming. I stressed out a little more when I realized the Assistant Superintendent of Secondary Education FOR THE DISTRICT arrived.
I reminded myself to breathe and sought support from a colleague and the band directors. We can do this! Students kept filing out, yearbook staffers were directing people, special education students were in place, and still NO DRONE.
I emailed the drone operator. No reply. I called his cell—no reply. I tried his school phone and learned someone would be there in 10 minutes. WHAAAT????? I panicked when I realized 900 junior high kids, two pregnant staffers, etc. have been in formation for 20 minutes already. I communicated with my principal who suggested a backup plan—a 10-foot ladder. I agreed knowing he needs to do something, but knowing the ladder is not high enough.
The drone guy arrived, but quickly told me he couldn’t do anything because the other guy had the app that operated the drone. I silently panicked but started breathing again when I learned he’d arrive in a few minutes. The second drone operator showed up and a substitute (who is a former teacher) took over the megaphone. I joined the crowd for the picture. We were all in, the drone was UP and the kids were being great (whew!). We were over time, but this was finally happening. The drone operator gave directions to the sub with the megaphone: everyone should look at their feet and look up at the drone on the count of three. ONE–TWO–LOOK! Great job! We then did it all again.
The principal took over the dismissal plan. I thanked everyone on their way back in for their patience and support. Kids and teachers asked about seeing the photo.
In the end, we were way over time. Our homeroom time is only 20 minutes long. Due to the lateness of the drone, students were out the majority of the next class period. However, since I had buy-in with the principal and teachers, they remained flexible and supportive. The majority were excited that this had been planned and they would be part of such a commemorative moment on campus.
In the end, I realized I can only control so much. Mother Nature smiled on us. No matter how much planning was done, rain or wind would have canceled the day. Truly, without the drone, we were doomed. You cannot get high enough on a ladder to take an aerial shot. Plan B included someone getting on the roof to take the shot, but there were safety and proximity concerns. Thankfully, the drone arrived. I am also thankful my staffers took a moment to take pictures on the field to document the outline for the yearbook.
The kids who could not be in the photo because of FERPA restrictions stayed in the library with a substitute. I shared the photo with staff with the rules they could not print or share it. I worried students would take a picture with their phone and have no incentive to buy a yearbook.
My favorite moment of the experience was opening up email, the drone operator with a lovely apology for the drone crew’s tardiness and my principal asking for permission on how he may use MY picture. When I opened the attachment—of course during my last class of the day—I almost cried I was so happy with the outcome.